New Staff of S. H. I. E. L. D.

"This is Butcher, an expert with knives." Fox introduced again, then stood aside and waited to watch the show.

Wesley was awakened by cold water being poured over him. He heard Fox's introduction in a daze and slowly climbed to his feet. He looked at a fat, scruffy guy who was watching him with a knife in his hand.

"How many punches did the mechanic knock him out?" the Butcher asked.

"Four punches." The fox said as it gestured with its fingers.

"Haha, he really is a bad guy. He came to me and asked me to give you something different." Wesley walked over and the butcher handed him a knife.

Pain was not enough to describe what Wesley was feeling now. It hurt too much. He had never been in so much pain. What did it feel like to have a knife across your body? What did it feel like to have a knife thrust directly into your palm? He was completely reluctant to remember any of this.

When he woke up again, he felt very warm. He was soaking in warm water, but his face and arms were completely fixed by something. Was this a mending liquid? It was a good thing to accelerate the formation of white blood cells in his blood and quickly recover from injuries.

"Is anyone there?" Wesley's face was covered with wax, and he couldn't open his eyes at all.

"Hey, you're awake!" A guy with a weird accent said.

"Yes, can you do me a favor?" Wesley asked. The other party moved quickly and directly removed the frozen part of his face. Wesley opened his eyes at this time. "Phew, thank you. This is?" Although Wesley knew, he still needed to act. No one knew if the other party was friendly enough.

"A place specially used to recover from injuries." Wesley finally glanced at the Russian.

"Hello, Wesley. What's your name?" Wesley greeted.

"My code name is Pesticide, but I usually have nothing to do and stay here." Just as Pesticide said this, Fox walked in.

"You're awake. You've recovered from your injuries, right? Now get up. We don't have much time. Cross is moving faster and faster. I don't know when he'll get here. We have to hurry." Wesley could only get up, grab the towel next to him and wrap it around his waist. He followed Fox and left. Before he left, he waved to the pesticide. He would meet the regulars here.

"He's a gunsmith and knows all kinds of firearms. You need to learn firearms from him." It was still an introduction. Wesley didn't say much and just stood aside and listened to the introduction. What he really remembered was Apple. It memorized all the introductions. The technical things were directly compared to the database, and the empirical things were directly recorded and sorted.

Firearms were Wesley's favorite. At least he didn't have to get beaten up. He started shooting training, correcting his shooting posture through apples, and then shooting. The recoil was unusually strong. If his heart wasn't beating fast, he needed to practice more.

"It's really difficult. I need a lot of practice." Wesley really wanted to practice shooting here all the time, but that was impossible. Every day, he had to go to the repairman to get beaten up first, then to the butcher's place to get stabbed. When he recovered, he would practice shooting again. He spent three weeks in such a life.

On this day, he was practicing his knife skills with Butcher, but someone broke in. "Someone was killed again." With that, he turned around and went out. Butcher hurriedly followed him out. Wesley glanced through the window. He did not look happy, but he felt good. His cheap father was really awesome. These days, people were often carried back, and none of them were alive.

"Cross is moving faster and faster. We need you to grow up as soon as possible." Fox said.

"I can't promise anything about that. Training is not something that can be done overnight. Besides, I only have one chance, right?" Wesley countered. The Assassin Brotherhood knew that he was Carlos's son, but they couldn't say it, so Wesley said that they had no way to refute him.

Fox said nothing more, and Wesley left the butcher's directly. He was going to practice his marksmanship. The accuracy of a head-on shot was high now, but he was not satisfied. Standing there and aiming directly was not the slightest bit difficult. He needed to move.

Moving to shoot was more of a test of experience and required more practice. Wesley began to move left and right to shoot. Without equipment, he ran on his own. He kept waving and shooting with both hands, and his heart beat fast from time to time. He was beginning to master a little technique. Although it was not always possible, it was at least an improvement.

Wesley's painstaking practice was obvious, so Sloan couldn't say anything. Wesley had to make more progress. Although Cross wouldn't kill his son, once they caught him, they wouldn't have a chance. Wesley had to be able to kill his father without risking his life.

"Fox, can it go any faster?" Sloan asked.

"No, it's already the biggest burden. He was just an ordinary person in the past. In just a few weeks, he became a top assassin. This is because he has special abilities. If he goes any faster, he will die."

"Well, for the time being, we can only let the people outside hold it for a while. We also have to strengthen the security here." Sloan knows that he can't be anxious. There is only one chance. He must seize this opportunity and not waste it.

Next, Reevesley began to practice making the bullet turn. This was not a technical problem, but a feeling problem. He needed to master that feeling, and this action was called swinging the gun. Using the inertia of the swing to make the bullet's trajectory arc, the strength of the arm and the control of the wrist needed to find his own rhythm.

"Hoo…hoo…" Wesley was breathing heavily in the room. He could no longer lift his arm. His gun swing practice was the most difficult. He had to practice for several hours a day and then he had to go to the recovery room to recover.

"It's starting to look like it. You're improving fast." Fox was impressed. They started training as children, and Wesley started halfway. It's not bad to reach this level in just five weeks. "But Cross is approaching. You don't have much time. We don't have much time."

Wesley nodded. He did not have much time, so now he needed to work harder. "Apple, can you control my heartbeat?"

"Sure," Apple replied crisply. Wesley communicated with Apple in his mind. "Then why didn't you say so earlier?"

"You didn't ask."

"Well, help me control the good-hearted heartbeat for the next week. I'm going to make a sharp advance."

"As your heart beats faster, your strength and speed will also increase. I suggest you train normally."

"They are about to lose their patience. I have to meet up with my father and then directly destroy their nest. It's not too late to train normally in the future. Otherwise, I can't get out of here. It's too dangerous."

"Understood."