Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel? - v16 Chapter 4 hey hey

Frank waited patiently.

Don't get me wrong, Bonavia's matter has long been settled. What he was waiting for at this time was the completion of his weapon repairs.

Normally, Frank is not a very patient person. Sometimes there's no patience at all, like when it comes to those damned people and aliens. However, people have two sides.

The craftsman in front of him raised his hand and tapped his head in great distress, and the sound of metal intermingled came out: "This ohm Messiah is above, what did you do to this gun?"

"Slaughter seventeen orcs with it," Frank replied. "But not in the form of pulling the trigger."

The craftsman's red electronic eyes protruding outwards trembled for a moment - his remodeled and extremely stable robotic arm almost missed and dropped the gun to the ground: "Sir? Is there something wrong with my hearing sensor?"

"No problem, artisan."

Bonavia sighed and began to explain in Frank's place. The language function of the Punisher seems to be degraded when facing humans, and it can always say some things that are very scary or unclear. At this time, it was her turn to appear.

"As you heard, the truth is what the lord said. He killed seventeen orcs with this gun, so can it be repaired?"

Frank glanced sideways at Bonavia, then turned his head and nodded: "Can it be repaired?"

The craftsman's mechanical face began to shake, proof that he was doing calculations. The former Tech-priest of the Mechanicus, like all his colleagues, learned more advanced science and technology after arriving at Terra.

Most people reworked themselves right away, like stronger outer materials, finer sensors, and a whole bunch of inexplicable features, but this craftsman is an outlier, he doesn't care much about other things Interests, just like making and repairing weapons.

So he didn't modify himself too much, on the contrary, in order to get more efficient computing power to satisfy his hobbies, he even gave up part of the stability. Because of this, his mechanical face was always shaking.

Three minutes later, the craftsman said in his synth voice with a lot of noise obviously: "Nangxiu, my lord. But I'm afraid it will take about a day. In order to maintain the stability of this sacred bolter and the machine spirit in it, I'm afraid it will take a lot of time to fix it. Ah, if only it didn't give birth to a machine spirit."

"I don't have that time. I'm leaving the Terra Space Station in 19 hours." Frank replied coldly, not caring about the "machine soul" in his mouth.

"Well then, would you mind depositing this sacred weapon with me first?"

A mechanical tentacle stretched out from the craftsman's back, picked up the bolt gun with a completely twisted handle and barrel, and put it into a huge backpack on his back: "Next time you come to Terra Space Station, you will You can take it away."

Frank narrowed his eyes and saw another tentacle sticking out from behind the craftsman. The tentacle brought a completely new firearm and placed it in front of him.

"Instead, if you don't dislike it, you can try my work."

Frank raised his hand to pick up the brand-new gun, and the heavy feeling in his hand made his brows stretch immediately. He looked closely at the gun. It didn't look the same as a bolter. There's no overtly violent aesthetic, replaced by a low-key menace.