Have you ever seen New York at four in the morning?
Shang-Chi had.
"On your left."
"No, shut up! Stop saying that!"
Shang-Chi cried out in despair as a figure ran past him.
A little while later, that devilish voice rang out again.
"On your left."
Shang-Chi was on the verge of breaking down.
Watching John race far ahead, he couldn't understand why a mage could run so fast and have such incredible stamina.
Only after repeating that line beside Shang-Chi more than twenty times did John finally stop. Looking thoroughly refreshed, he pulled a towel from his flat pocket and wiped his face.
Shang-Chi trudged over to a trash can and promptly threw up.
Oh, and Peter was already lying on the grass, probably unconscious. Even he had no idea how he had gone from a warm bed one moment to running through hell the next.
John had finally experienced Captain America's idea of fun.
"Why do we need to exercise to learn magic?" Shang-Chi asked in confusion.
John answered as though it were obvious. "Do you think magic is for close-range attacks or long-range attacks?"
"Uh... long-range?"
"So if someone gets close, you just wait to die?" John looked at him as though he were a hopeless case, leaving Shang-Chi feeling that he had a very good point.
"The workout's over. Wake Peter up before he catches a chill."
Seeing his driver pull up, John left the two of them behind without another word.
Shang-Chi looked at Peter. "Are you sure he's sleeping?"
Who slept with their eyes rolled back?
There was more than one wizard in New York.
And those wizards had to go through a department to enter the country.
The Woolworth Building.
Fury walked to the phone booth outside the building, picked up the