It was an indescribable feeling. Whenever Blaine tried to think too deeply, a sudden pain shot through his head. He didn't know if it was related to everything that had happened recently, but he quickly shook his head, forcing the thought away.
His brain still throbbed, and using mental power felt uncomfortable, so Blaine simply walked straight in. After all, he was invincible. Even if there were security guards, they couldn't do anything to him—guns or no guns. Facing them would be no different from facing a group of children. Besides, he was here to destroy. Whether he was allowed inside or not, this building was getting torn down tonight.
Pulling up his hood and stepping into the moonlight, Blaine walked forward boldly, not treating himself like an outsider at all. The sparse stars and bright moon made it clear this night was destined to be anything but ordinary.
But once inside, he noticed something strange. The deeper he went, the more uneasy he felt. Yet his danger sense gave no warning. It wasn't paranoia—something was definitely off. No one stopped him. Not a single guard appeared.
Truthfully, a company this big should easily afford a security team. But the deeper Blaine went, the more it looked like Cross's company had been completely evacuated.
"That little guy probably didn't expect me to trouble him, so he ran early."
"Are all businessmen this flexible?"
Blaine muttered as he continued inside.
Checking floor after floor, he eventually realized something else was wrong. At some point, more ants had appeared on the ground. Closing his eyes, Blaine listened carefully. There was a faint buzzing outside the window—flying ants, the kind common in the U.S.
"Oh, come on. Seriously?"
One look at the ants, and Blaine immediately thought of someone—Scott Lang. The original Ant-Man.
This poor electrical engineering student was unlucky enough to get arrested every time he ran into Dr. Pym—and always for theft. He even spent years in prison picking up soap for no reason…
Even if every theft was to survive or to help his ex-wife and daughter, somehow he always ended up back behind bars. And every time he was released, he'd swear he'd "wash his hands in a golden basin" and start over. But no one in this world escapes the law of true fragrance.
Who knew what Pym even liked about him? Scott wasn't classic hero material. Maybe it was his agility, his technical background, and his strong moral compass that made him an ideal successor to Ant-Man. A man good at math, physics, and engineering, not afraid of… bending the rules.
Blaine guessed Scott had now accepted Hank Pym's mission to steal the Yellowjacket suit—a secret weapon capable of destroying the world, the very same suit Cross wore when he bombed Blaine's house. If that was the case, he could find Cross by following these ants.
In truth, Blaine could've saved himself the trouble by using mind control to locate Cross immediately. But whether it was lingering side effects from earlier or something else, the moment he tried to use mental power, the invisible pain in his head flared up again.
Five minutes later, Blaine followed the trail of ants to an iron door. Without mental power, he couldn't sense what was inside—no idea what waited behind it.
But since he'd come to cause trouble and destruction anyway, Blaine kicked the iron door open. Just as he did, he heard someone inside say, "We're done."
With a loud bang, the door flew open, startling everyone inside. That was when Blaine realized this was actually the building's power distribution room—and the ants he'd followed were a sabotage team, not a rescue squad meant to meet Scott.
"You—who are you? You're not allowed in here without authorization! Don't you know that?"
It was just a chubby guy inside, and Blaine guessed who he was even without mind reading. He must be Scott's old friend. But today, playing his wingman role a little too deeply, he seemed to have forgotten he was also sneaking in—and instead questioned Blaine.
"Where are they?"
Blaine asked, his voice cold, using both his soul interrogation and mind reading. As expected, Cross and Scott were in the top-floor research lab. Apparently tech companies loved putting labs at the top.
Once he had the location, Blaine turned and vanished. The chubby man was left frozen in shock as Blaine reappeared on the top floor an instant later.
Sure enough, the moment he arrived, Blaine sensed people. There were over a dozen standing just at the entrance.
Judging by their outfits, they weren't Cross Technologies researchers, nor typical bodyguards. Looking closer, they all bore the same tattoo.
"Ah, hell—HYDRA?"
"These guys are everywhere."
"They're like cockroaches. No matter how many times you stomp them, they never die."
One look at their octopus-like emblem and Blaine knew. Still, he had to admit HYDRA was impressive. After all the hits from S.H.I.E.L.D., they were still standing strong…
Judging by the situation, Blaine guessed Cross planned to showcase the Yellowjacket suit to HYDRA today and sell it to them. Likewise, HYDRA wanted to buy it and form a Yellowjacket army—to destroy the world.
Just as Blaine stepped forward, a sudden explosion erupted behind the high-tech door. The guards rushed into the room.
Perfect timing. Saved Blaine the trouble of trying to slip in. Even though they wouldn't last three seconds against him, the Bounty Hunter still preferred direct action.
Hidden in a dark corner, Blaine released his mind control, extending it into the room. Without anyone noticing, he seized control of the last HYDRA soldier.
The soldier, who had been gripping his gun and watching his leader and Cross's new invention, suddenly felt a sharp sting in his head. The light in his eyes dimmed instantly.
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