In the end, Eric did not take away the helmet that could isolate the power of the mind. Since the professor returned the helmet to the Brotherhood, let it continue to stay in Riven's hands. He carefully sensed the internal structure of the treasure and the material that made it up, and kept every bit of information in his heart, and perhaps one day it would come in handy.

Although he doesn't want that day to come, it's always beneficial to prepare.

When everything was done, the agreed time was almost here. Before the genuine doctor came back, Eric and Riven left separately. After saying goodbye to each other, he stopped the taxi at the hospital gate.

This car is still the famous yellow worm appearance, with the bright yellow body painted with the words NYCTAXI. Their fame has long been spreading with the reputation of the New York metropolis. As one of the 12,187 similar vehicles, its owner is also an immigrant with an accent like most drivers, with a cheerful and talkative personality.

"Mr. Eric?" Eric took the position of the co-pilot. The black driver who had just walked out of his youth and had not yet faded his lips did not start the car, but turned his head and stared at him for a while.

"It's me." Eric was a little surprised. He was not so arrogant that he thought he was so famous that he could be recognized by taking a casual car.

The driver smiled apologetically, and he drove slowly away from the hospital gate.

"I'm from the Bronx. I was there the last time you put out the fire." He turned the steering wheel and explained. "My friend is also a taxi driver. He lives in the fire building. When something happened, his whole family was trapped on the roof. You saved his wife and two children from the air."

So that's it, Eric asked casually: "How are they?"

"Great. No one can thank God for his resignation for nothing, and of course you." The driver smiled, and he was sincerely happy for his friend to escape from the bad luck. "The insurance company compensated him with a sum of money, plus his original income, and now he bought a house in an independent community and lived a middle-class life---I told me that he should have done this long ago. Now he finally understands that life is limited, and the money spent can make himself happy."

"It makes sense," Eric smiled. "Money should have given the owner enough support, otherwise why should they gather them together."

At this time, the car turned a corner and drove onto the road leading to Westchester. Then the speed gradually increased. The street trees on both sides flashed like a lantern and were left behind far away.

When he met the legendary hero, the driver was very interested and kept talking about mutants with Eric.

"I don't hide it from you. Since that day, many of my friends have regarded you as idols. My brother is just thirteen years old. He is very envious of your abilities. He is determined to be a mutant and fly to the sky like you. My mother finally advises him not to make stupid attempts. And I am the same. I follow your news. From newspapers and TV, I have collected a lot of news reports. I read the reporter's interview with you and cut it down and posted it on the wall. Your words are so true." He patted the steering wheel and said loudly. "How can we divide the originally equal people into classes, separate God's people, and let one group of people rule the other. We should get along equally and help each other."

"Yes, this kind of spirit should be promoted," Eric nodded: "Everyone is for me, I am for everyone."

"Well said, that's where the musketeer's soul lies." The driver laughed and repeated the famous saying: "Everyone is for me, I am for everyone----I love Dumas to death."

As he said, he let go of his hand from the steering wheel, making a gesture of firing a musket, and then he treated himself as a swordsman, wielding a thin thorn sword that did not exist, fighting with an imaginary enemy in the void, and it took a minute or two to stop.

His body was shaking so hard that it was hard for him to hold the steering wheel in one hand and drive so steadily. Eric thought silently.

After the driver's excitement passed, he calmed down for a while, then pretended to be nothing and asked about the person he really cared about.

"Can I ask the name of the lady who is on your way?" He turned his head and glanced at Eric quickly. The red blood gushed out of his dark face, but the tension in his eyes exposed his mood. "The silver-haired one is so beautiful."

Eric smiled, this time his smile was full of kindness and teasing. Ororo was always so popular. She was smart and capable, and she had a kind of heroic spirit from the inside out. She was full of love for children, both adults and children. She was such a person: she never brought you a sense of threat, but before you knew it, you felt that you were very close to her. She was like a breeze, quietly living in your heart.

"She is Ororo." He replied with a smile. The driver felt even more embarrassed when he heard his laughter. He tightened his face, sat upright and focused on driving the vehicle, and then walked through two forks before relaxing.

"You must be in a lover relationship. I have watched the videos many times. Her eyes looked at you very unusually. I think she must like you very much." After the excitement, the driver was a little disappointed and muttered in a low voice. He was still a young man, only a little older than John and Baby. His emotions were like the weather in June, and he came and went faster. "A ordinary person like me could only look up to her from afar and hoped she would be happy. Please don't let her down." His position became very fast, and he turned around and asked Eric, as if he was a younger brother who wanted to send his sister to marry.

Eric could only nod to the Ororo admirer. He dealt with it vaguely, and then chatted while running around, and time passed quickly.

Walking through the town, the academy was right in front of it, and the driver looked at the rearview mirror and pointed to a car following them and asked about Eric.

"Is the car behind your friend yours? He kept following us for several turns." The car he pointed to was a black Ford, about fifty meters away from the taxi. In fact, it was followed by it since the hospital came out, but Eric ignored it.

"It seems that I'm going to get off the car early and I'll give you the money for the car." Eric handed the money and tips to the person next to him, but the driver did not accept it. He parked the car on the side of the road and took out a business card from his body.

"Will you save people in the future?" the driver asked.

"As long as you need it," Eric replied.

"Then I can't take your money, it will make my conscience uneasy." The driver insisted on refusing. Eric did not pretentiously, and he took the business card sent by the driver.

"I usually run this road. Please call me if you have anything to do. I am honored to be with the hero." The driver made a "phone" gesture in his ear, looked at the black car that followed the stop, and whispered: "I can't help, take care of myself."

Eric waved him away, then picked up the business card and looked at it. There was a yellow taxi in the middle of the business card, with a line of black words written below: "Which Cheetah or me, which one will reach the finish line faster-------Si ShushuだKun?Tianren?????赚有!?p> "Thank you, Snake." Eric said to the taxi that was leaving, then turned around and walked backwards.

"Now let me see who you are." He came to the front of the Ford, stood in front of the car without moving or talking. After more than ten seconds, the door opened and a familiar man walked down.

This man wore sunglasses and had a burly figure and a cold expression. From the outside, he could have been the title of a terminator with another gentleman, but an unspeakable anxiety destroyed his temperament. Especially after taking off his sunglasses, he could no longer hide his heart. His eyes were red, his eyes were black, and his beard was scattered around his mouth. I don’t know how many days it has not been trimmed.

"Jest Warren", Eric remembered this man, and they had a relationship with each other.

"It's me." The man replied. He looked very calm now, not as cautious as he had in the previous two times.

Eric passed by him and got into the car.

"Find a suitable place," he ordered, and Jester obeyed him as if he had followed Stryker's orders.

After many twists and turns, they came to a street coffee shop. It was not remote, it was in the middle of a street, squeezed by taverns and pastry shops on both sides, looking very inconspicuous.

There are not many customers in the store at this time. There are several rows of tables separated from their location and some guests are chatting. The waiters brought coffee and walked back, lying lazily on the table, watching the TV show bored to pass the time.

Eric asked for a latte, and Mr. Jester was the same, but even if he looked at him, he had to drink it first before he could find out something was wrong.

"This is our third meeting." Eric straight to the point. "When you first met, you followed Mr. Stryker as his accomplice, but you almost breathed by my iron rope. The second time was at the bottom of Lake Alcalli, when I brought people in, and you stood in front of the commander without hesitation, as if you were going to die with us. Today is the third time, you drove behind me alone until the near the academy. Are you not afraid that I will kill you, the murderer who persecuted your compatriots?"

Jester lowered his head, kept turning the cup, loosening his hands and clenching them, and then loosening them.

He finally made up his mind and was about to speak, Eric interrupted him.

"Let me guess, Mr. Warren." Eric stared into his eyes and said slowly. "You came out of the hospital alone. It seems that you have had a relationship with it as a personal identity. When you got in the car, I saw a few movies in your hand. It seems that someone among you or your acquaintances has become a patient. This person will not be you, otherwise you can go to a military hospital or something, so the patient is your family. What disease do they have?"

Eric did not ask Mr. Warren to answer, and he started to speak on his own.

;
Chapter completed!