Coulson still had to search place by place, but Osborn didn't need to.
The places where Randolph buried these things were in Norway, Canada, and Ireland, respectively.
With him just watching from the side, Osborn immediately found the remaining two halves of the staff, with the last half in the hands of those whimsical young people.
Taking a close look at this thing, the runes on it were actually quite nice.
This thing could strengthen the human body through some kind of magic, and it could probably also be used to complete system tasks.
As for Coulson, after Harry finished talking to him, he deployed a squad to Canada right in front of him and recovered this thing.
Seeing this, Coulson simply decided not to leave and just stuck around to watch Osborn recover this thing.
"How do you plan to handle this thing? It's very dangerous," Coulson said from the side.
"Repair, experiment, research."
To Coulson, this was the worst way to handle it. Before he could speak, Harry continued, "I know what you want to say, but this is also officially registered. Osborn will absolutely not be like you, only caring about doing experiments without considering the consequences."
"Besides, this thing's danger level doesn't compare to the Tesseract—Tony told me you even wanted to use that thing to research weapons."
"Furthermore, this is officially authorized by the United States. In fact, I also have an agreement signed with Thor. Do you want to see it?"
There's no need to mention U.S. authorization; the President is his father, so he decides what experiments can be done.
On the other hand, one of the clauses in the agreement with Thor is that "diplomatic partners can prioritize handling Asgardian artifacts left on Midgard."
Coulson had nothing to say, but Harry could see that he still didn't take this thing seriously; after all, that was just the S.H.I.E.L.D. style.
In a sense, S.H.I.E.L.D. could be considered to have inherited the "superhero spirit," and its behavior was very close to that of a large vigilante organization.
But regardless, this matter was undoubtedly where Osborn had the moral high ground.
"Alright, then I wish you success in your experiments, Mr. Osborn."
Coulson knew there was no need to continue the conversation; it would be better to rush back immediately to formulate a strategy to recover the last part of the Berserker Staff from that group of angry young people.
"He doesn't look like he's going to give up—I've seen many people like that. They have firm beliefs and think they are the 'chosen ones'," Randolph said from the side.
He had indeed seen many such people, especially during the Crusades. The fighting was fierce, and the high fighting spirit of both sides made this Heavenly Palace warrior hold them in high regard.
The Crusaders and those of the opposing faith both believed their own gods were the orthodox ones, and killing was done with such alacrity. This level of conviction was similar to S.H.I.E.L.D. believing they were the only ones who were right, and thus always ready to break rules and violate laws.
But in Harry's view, shutting out these so-called "anomalies" was a sign of refusing to progress.
"But in reality, humans can protect themselves." Harry brought the two sections of the staff together, and the staff instantly completed its self-repair.
"What about you? Why are you doing these things?" Randolph asked curiously.
"Osborn is a company, just fulfilling the responsibilities that an enterprise should have in society." Harry didn't intend to explain, and to be honest, it wasn't easy to explain.
Simply put, it meant using the resources on hand to organize production and then distribute them, but this was hard for an Asgardian to understand, even for Randolph who had stayed here for thousands of years.
The last part of the staff was also easy to recover. Harry had already had these experts release some "research data" online, and soon these young people would be able to deduce the location where the staff was buried.
"Boss, we have arrived at the location," Frank sent back the message.
"The opponents can be considered super soldiers, try to capture them alive—after this mission is over, I should be able to give you a vacation. Do a good job."
"Received, Boss."
A Berserker is worth the strength of 20 warriors; this was obviously Randolph's one-sided claim.
Moreover, even if this were true, it would only have that effect if it were a Heavenly Palace warrior holding a complete weapon.
These angry young people only had one-third of the staff, so Harry really wasn't too worried that Frank couldn't handle them.
It was night now, and there was almost no light around the church; the environment was very dark, but Osborn's infrared imager had high clarity.
"Targets in sight—they're dressed quite trendily. Let me see... family alive, good family situation. Why are they doing this instead of doing something else?" Frank shook his head while checking the information on these people.
You have to know that veterans like them least wanted to go to the battlefield—except, of course, to fight Aliens.
"Be careful, the file says they are all super soldiers, the kind with magic," Kurt said from the side while checking his firearm.
"Alright, all units pay attention, targets in sight, get your equipment ready. We should be changing shifts after this mission."
Several young people wearing strange clothes and with ferocious expressions swaggered into the monastery gate. According to their research, the stone staff was right here.
They pretended to look at each other and then made a gesture, which seemed to be a tactical gesture learned from a TV show.
This scene almost made the ambushing soldiers laugh out loud.
Because the moment they stepped into the church, they tripped a tripwire.
"There are enemies—ugh!"
This was a type of restraint trap. After the tripwire was triggered, it quickly retracted, shrinking from the feet upwards, tying the unlucky guy up tight, and high-voltage electricity instantly shocked him unconscious.
Seeing the ambush, these young people shouted, "We are gods, I am not afraid of you! Come out and fight me!"
"Terrible performance," Frank complained internally.
These few young people were like angry little squirrels; they didn't choose to retreat and return the way they came, but instead charged toward the church filled with traps, just like knights charging through thorns toward the Holy Grail.
However, it was a pity that there was no Holy Grail here, and they couldn't pass through the thorns either.
Anger drove them to charge, sparking and flashing all the way. They began to wonder why the traps here seemed endless no matter how many they stepped on. Finally, they exhausted the last trap.
Their leader rushed into the church and became the last person standing. Clenching his fists and looking around, he shouted, "Your traps cannot stop the anger of gods! Come out! Cowards!"
Someone in the combat channel couldn't help but laugh. Frank said, "Alright, turn on the tactical flashlights."
In an instant, a dozen beams of light shone on the young man. The intense light stung his eyes so much he thought he had ascended to heaven.
"Sorry, but this isn't personal. Also, don't call yourself a god next time."
*Pop.*
The sight of a dozen syringes sticking into someone was quite terrifying. From the moment the flashlights turned on, this person hadn't opened his eyes, and he fell to the ground with his eyes closed.
"Angry squirrels captured, 15 in total. Mission accomplished, let's pull out."
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