In American comics, drawing cards reveals wave-particle duality

n minutes ago.

Moonlight shines through the broken glass windows into the abandoned chemical plant laboratory.

A dozen elite ninjas from the Hand knelt on the ground, forming a complete circle.

In the center of the circle, Murakami stood in an ancient curse circle drawn with human blood.

"Everyone..."

Murakami's voice was low and hoarse.

"I'm sure everyone is well aware of our situation."

No one spoke, but everyone's eyes revealed deep hatred and unwillingness.

They are the last elite members of the Hand, but now they are forced to hide in a place like this.

"Damn Hydra..."

Murakami chewed on the name.

"They thought they could easily swallow us up, but tonight..."

A ferocious smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

“Instead of a temporary experience like before, we will gain lasting power to resist.”

As he spoke, he took out a seemingly ordinary stone from his arms, but in the moonlight, the surface of the stone seemed to be wriggling, and some ancient blood-colored patterns could be vaguely seen.

"I'm sure you've all heard that this is a holy object that our ancestors obtained from a sealed shrine three hundred years ago."

Murakami held the stone high.

"It contains part of the power of the ancient demon 'Beast'."

"But sir,"

A ninja spoke up.

"Why didn't the ancestors use this power?"

"Ah……"

Murakami's venomous, dark gaze fell on the ninja who spoke, and the latter couldn't help but shudder.

“Because of the cost.”

Murakami's voice became even colder.

"To gain the power of the 'beast', a large number of lives must be sacrificed. And..."

He paused.

"The user's soul will eventually be devoured by the devil."

The factory suddenly fell into deathly silence.

No one present was stupid, and every ninja understood Murakami's intention.

"I won't force you..."

Murakami looked around and thrust his long samurai sword directly into the ground.

"Those who are willing to follow me can stay. Those who want to leave can leave now."

Yet no one moved.

These ninjas are elite members who have received training from the Hand since childhood, and their loyalty to the organization has long been ingrained in their bones.

"Very good, I only need ten people..."

Murakami began to chant an ancient spell.

The surface of the stone began to emit a dark red light, and the ancient lines squirmed like snakes, looking particularly strange under the penetration of moonlight outside the window.

Deep red light seeped out from between the lines like flowing blood, condensing into wisps of blood mist in the air.

The magic circle gradually lit up as Murakami chanted in a low voice.

Those complex and twisting runes began to pulse, and every stroke emitted a chilling bloody light.

At this moment, the ten ninjas kneeling around the magic circle suddenly trembled violently, their faces twisted in pain, but no one made a sound.

They could feel that their vitality was being forcibly drained away by an invisible force, as if thousands of tiny needles were piercing every pore in their body at the same time.

The blood boiled beneath their skin and their muscles began to atrophy, but they remained kneeling upright.

The first ninja's skin began to dry and crack like tree bark exposed to the sun.

His eye sockets were sunken, but his gaze remained firm.

When the last breath of life was taken away, his body turned into a kneeling corpse that was as droopy as a dead tree.

Next came the second, the third... Their lives seemed to be thrown into a bottomless pit, transforming into pure energy and flowing towards the sacrifice in the center of the magic circle.

As the light of the magic circle grew brighter, a blood-red column of light shot up into the sky, illuminating the entire night sky.

In the distance, crows were startled and began to cry ominously. The ground began to shake, and dead branches and leaves swirled and danced in the unnatural air currents.

The air was filled with a strong smell of rust, which was the smell emitted when life energy was forcibly extracted.

Murakami stood in the center of the magic circle, his body was undergoing a terrible transformation

First, his skin cracked as if burned by fire, revealing the shiny black scales underneath, and his bones rearranged themselves with a teeth-grinding cracking sound.

His ten fingers grew slender, his nails extended into sharp claws, and his spine protruded from his skin, forming a row of sharp bone spurs on his back.

The most terrifying thing is the change in his face.

His jaw began to extend and his teeth became long and pointy.

The eyes turned from black to golden, and the vertical pupils flashed a cold light in the darkness.

His forehead was cracked, and a pair of curved horns emerged from his flesh and blood, with the surface covered with fine lines.

The severe pain almost broke Murakami's nerves, but a crazy smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

This kind of pain, rather than being tortured and eroded by Hydra day after day, gave him a morbid pleasure.

He could feel an unprecedented power surging through his blood vessels, and every cell was cheering.

The moment the last ninja turned into ashes, the light of the magic circle reached its peak.

Murakami howled toward the sky, his voice a mixture of human voices and the roars of wild beasts.

His body was suspended in the air, surrounded by thick blood mist.

When everything calmed down, the moonlight once again shone on the open space of the abandoned factory. The patterns of the magic circle had disappeared, leaving only a circle of charred marks on the ground.

The person standing in the center was no longer the human Murakami, but a monster covered in jet-black scale armor.

"Hiss...Chimo Chicken..."

Murakami flexed his slender fingers, feeling the surging power in his body, with a cruel smile on his lips.

Back to the present.

"Boom-"

Murakami jumped down to the ground from the second floor easily.

Its body swelled rapidly and its skin began to crack, revealing the dark scales underneath.

His face was distorted, his eyes turned blood red, and fangs protruded from his mouth.

The arms stretched and lengthened, the nails turning into claws.

"Hehehe... I sacrificed one third of my men,"

Murakami said with a grin, his voice carrying a metallic resonance.

"Now, I have gained the power of the ancient demon 'Beast'. Do you think you can defeat us alone?"

"by?"

"Can you damn Nantong please get out of here..."

The ancient demon beast, as far as Jonathan knew, was a male, which forced Murakami to infuse the beast with strength again.

Isn't it Nantong?

Reasonable and correct.

Jonathan picked his ears, and the radiation covered his body more completely.

"court death……"

Although Murakami didn't understand what Jonathan was saying, he could guess that it was some ugly trash talk.

Murakami pounced out like a beast out of a cage, his movements so fast that it seemed as if he created several afterimages at the moment of his leap.

The trajectory of the claws left a faint dark purple energy trace in the air.

“Those who don’t understand the bad jokes are blessed…”

Jonathan raised the corner of his lips slightly, and dodged sideways with a nonchalant move, wiping it away perfectly.