Chapter 7: The Rude Butcher
"Heh... heh..."
Heavy panting, like an old bellows pulling in his chest,
The big man ran wildly through the boundless darkness, with only a soul-consuming blackness before his eyes,
The coarse texture of asphalt beneath his feet was the only proof that he was still running on the "road to life,"
His heartbeat was heavy, and his breath burned his throat,
He didn't know what that devil had injected into him,
The top-tier stimulant from the black market? Potent adrenaline?
He only knew that a nearly violent power surged within his body, forcing him to accelerate, and accelerate again,
But he couldn't keep running forever,
My God... please send an Angel... I beg you... I'm willing to give everything... His chaotic thoughts churned in fear,
Perhaps his prayer was actually heard,
A light really did appear in the distance,
The roar of an engine approached from afar, urgent, like a steel giant beast that had caught the scent of blood, rushing toward him impatiently.
"Ah!!"
The big man ran toward the blinding headlights with all his might, waving his hands desperately, his face twisted in extreme fear with a look of grievance and supplication,
"Ahhh—!! (Save me!!)"
"Food!! Don't run!!" A rasping roar, like iron grinding against stone, actually came from the truck window,
Food?
The big man was stunned, but his survival instinct overwhelmed all doubts,
The lights were too strong; he couldn't see the blurry Shadow in the driver's seat clearly, so he just charged forward more desperately,
The "driver" opposite seemed even more impatient,
Before the truck had even come to a halt, the driver's door opened, and a black Shadow leaped out,
And at the moment of leaping, it spread out massive bat wings!
Those wings snapped open in the air, performing a low-altitude glide before pulling up and diving down toward the big man,
"Ha?!"
The big man's footsteps skidded to a halt,
The moment that black Shadow passed through the blinding headlights, the light outlined a non-human, terrifying silhouette with bat wings,
That was definitely not a posture a human should have!
He looked up stiffly, watching the Shadow diving from high above, his face a mixture of absurd confusion,
What on earth was going on tonight? Not a single person he met was good—actually, they weren't even human!
Whiz—!
A sharp sound of breaking wind tore through the air,
The next moment, the diving Shadow turned into a brilliant Fireball in mid-air!
The mid-range Impact knocked the big man to the ground, blood seeping from his ears,
In his blurry, tumbling vision, he only saw a burning Shadow trailing black smoke as it fell at an angle,
Soon, the heavy sound of flesh hitting the ground came, followed by the crackling of the Fire,
"Phew~"
On the gentle slope, Green whistled, put down the smoking rocket launcher on his shoulder, and skillfully began to reload,
"Seems my touch in Call of Duty is still Fire-hot."
Almost simultaneously, the roar of an engine came from below the slope,
A pickup truck with its front high in the air leaped from the top of the slope, its two headlights descending,
"Yee-hoo—!"
Tony grinned, leaning half his body out of the car window, one hand on the steering wheel and the other pressing a rifle to his shoulder as he pulled the trigger,
Gun-Fire sprayed wildly, tearing a scorching chain of bullets through the night,
The monster, which had half its leg blown off, was about to stand up when it was suppressed back to the ground, bullets striking it and blooming into flowers of blood,
The monster let out a roar, lay back with the momentum, wiped its hand across its waist, and threw out several cold glints—shuttles shot through the air at an incredible speed!
"Clang!" One of them hit Tony's gun, vibrating until his arm went numb, while the others grazed the car body with a piercing whistle,
"This guy would definitely get a perfect score at bar darts!"
Tony quickly retracted into the car and floored the accelerator; the front of the pickup truck slammed solidly into the monster,
Bang!
A muffled sound—it didn't sound like hitting flesh, but rather like hitting a concrete wall,
Tony was thrown forward by inertia, his forehead hitting the steering wheel with a "thud,"
"WTF?! So hard?!"
He cursed loudly, flooring the gas; the tires spun wildly in place, burning out pungent White smoke, but the car couldn't advance an inch,
He looked up, staring straight into those tyrannical, crimson eyes outside the windshield,
The monster had actually stood up by bracing its hands against the dented front of the car, its terrifying face covered in a gray-brown keratinous layer staring fixedly at him, its bared teeth sharp and grim,
"Oh, shit..."
Tony shrank his neck, one hand quickly reaching for the taser in the action bag beside him, while his gaze drifted to the craggy keratinous protrusions on the other's face; his habit of quibbling became even more active under tension,
"Hey, big guy, your mom didn't get scratched when she had you, did she? I mean, you're probably a mammal? But bats rarely grow to be so..."
"Roar—!"
Before he could finish, the monster let out a roar, its arms exploding with terrifying strength, actually lifting the front of the pickup truck!
"I'm kidding!"
Tony scrambled inside the tilting car, grabbing the steering wheel and seat to steady himself while desperately propping his knee against the center console, all while loading the taser at top speed,
The light clinking of metal parts was almost inaudible amidst the monster's heavy breathing and the groans of deforming metal,
At that moment, a sharp sound of breaking wind suddenly attacked!
Green's Shadow cut in like a ghost, a heavy sidekick slamming into the monster's waist and abdomen!
Bang!
The monster's massive body flew out sideways, and the pickup slammed back to the ground, leaving Tony dazed,
Green steadied himself and dropped his hips, the rocketlauncher on his shoulder already aimed,
The trigger was pulled,
Chi—Xiu!
White smoke billowed from the tube's mouth as the rocketprojectile's tail ignited with a crisp sound, shrieking with a trail of Fire as it shot toward the monster in mid-air that was trying to spread its wings and steady itself,
The monster had just barely righted its body when the rapidly enlarging warhead was reflected in its crimson pupils,
Boom—!
The second explosion bloomed in mid-air, the Fireball engulfing the monster and carrying its broken body to crash heavily below the slope,
Most of the clothes on its body were charred and shattered, and its exposed keratinous skin was blackened and smoking in many places,
Those relatively intact flesh tissues began to slowly crawl and extend like they had independent lives, covering and filling the wounds blown open by the explosion.
The monster shook its buzzing head, spitting out black smoke,
Tap... tap... tap...
Unrushed footsteps approached from afar, stepping on the gravel road, so clear they made one's heart tighten,
"Still not dead, and the self-healing is quite strong; seems the intelligence had some basis after all."
The monster suddenly looked up, a threatening low growl squeezing from its throat, the keratinous spikes all over its body standing up uncontrollably, its eyes glowing with intense red light,
In its vision, a bug was perched on the upper body of the human male walking slowly toward it, but all the threat came from the male himself,
"You subhuman, non-ghostly piece of trash, you're quite explosion-resistant."
Green slowly drew the soul-releasing blade from ugly treasure's mouth—a long blade with a tuft of White fur at the handguard,
A pale ray of moonlight happened to leak through the clouds, reflecting a cold, sharp glint on the blade held across his chest,
Green narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze like a ruler measuring the monster's body from a distance, the corner of his mouth curling into a cold arc,
"Don't move, let me see how many pieces I can cut you into," he said softly, like a chef inspecting meat on a cutting board,
Before his voice faded, only a few agitated stones remained where he had stood,
The next moment, Green appeared in front of the monster, and with a grin, he raised the long blade high and slashed down!
Slash—!
The blade light was like a bolt of silk, faster than any reaction,
The blade cut in from the monster's left shoulder and slid down to below its right ribs without resistance, nearly splitting it in half diagonally!
The monster seemed to have no sense of pain; the moment it suffered such a heavy blow, it instead roared and swung a claw at Green's chest,
Rip!
Nails scraped across the fabric, taking a bit of skin tissue and leaving only a few shallow, bleeding scratches on Green's chest,
Green glanced down, let out a sneer, and brought his head close to the monster's hideous face,
"That's it?"
"Roar...!" The monster also leaned in, its roar just about to break out,
Puchi!
The Inverted Spear of Heaven popped out of ugly treasure's mouth and was caught by Green in a reverse grip, piercing through the monster's lower jaw and sinking straight into its brain!
The monster's roar stopped abruptly, turning into a leaky panting sound, the red light in its eyes flickering violently,
"Ready? Here it comes!" The grin on Green's face widened to a nearly insane arc,
He twisted his waist and exerted force, the dual blades turning into a net of death light with untraceable trajectories, instantly enveloping the monster's broken body,
Chichi—!
The tooth-aching sounds of cutting meat and scraping bone exploded densely, blooming into a rapidly expanding blood-colored mist flower in the night sky,
Slurries of unformed flesh and blood, mixed with the scattering rain of blood, splattered out in a radial pattern centered on Green's feet,
When Tony arrived with his rifle, trembling with fear, what he saw was this terrifying scene like a scroll from hell,
About ten seconds later, the blade light stopped,
Green stood in place, panting slightly,
On his body, his face, and the blade's edge, congealed blood droplets were slowly gathering and dripping,
He casually brushed his wet, sticky hair back and inserted the soul-releasing blade back into ugly treasure,
"This way, it won't be coming back to life."
The blood mist gradually dissipated,
A humanoid skeleton, scraped clean, was revealed under the moonlight,
Only the chest area was preserved; inside the ribs, a pitch-black heart that was still beating slowly but powerfully was exceptionally prominent,
Green stepped forward, smashed a few obstructing ribs with the hilt of his blade, tore the connecting blood vessels, gouged the heart out, weighed it in his hand, and turned to walk up the slope,
"I thought it would be a tough battle." Tony looked at this messy slaughterhouse, his throat feeling a bit dry,
"Yeah," Green walked past him,
"All that hacking made me hungry."
He glanced casually at the spot where the big man had fallen before; besides some bloodstains, the person was nowhere to be seen,
But it didn't matter,
Just Bait; whether he lived or died made no difference.
Green returned to the car and took a metal container from the action bag,
He grabbed the rotary latch on top and twisted it half a turn; as a puff of cold air escaped, the pale green solution inside came into view,
He casually tossed the still-pulsating black heart into it; the life support device inside would maintain its vitality,
"Where are we going now? To the next mission?"
Tony walked back to the car, his tone carrying a hint of not having had enough, but his slightly trembling legs betrayed his true feelings,
"No more." Green started the engine, the corner of his mouth curling into an inscrutable arc,
"Sending you back to where you belong."
"Hope everything goes smoothly."
Tony sat in the passenger seat, tossed his rifle onto the back seat, and tried to touch the large bump on his forehead, grimacing in pain,
"Of course, it will be as you wish." Green looked ahead and stepped on the gas,
The vehicle slowly drove away, the red light of the taillights gradually swallowed by the thick darkness,
An hour later,
Below the gravel slope not far away, a Shadow cautiously poked its head out,
It was that big man,
His face was covered in dust, his eyes vacant, staring blankly in the direction the vehicle had disappeared,
I survived... I actually survived... amidst the slaughter of these demons,
He slumped to the ground and swore to the dark, silent wilderness,
From now on, he would be an honest man, a most ordinary good person. He wouldn't dare anymore... never again..."
Chapter 8: One Man, Four Hands
New York City, West Manhattan,
A pickup truck with a dented front end drove into Hells Kitchen.
The air here was perpetually murky; drug deals and violent crimes were like the never-dissipating smog of a chemical plant, permeating every inch of space, painting the sky and human hearts alike in a depressing leaden gray.
And this pickup truck drove across the road right under the watchful eyes of numerous gang members on both sides of the street.
No one stepped forward to stop it; no one even dared to let out a provocative whistle.
"...Fuck, the 'Owl' is back," someone spat in a low voice.
"Dammit, I need to pack up my grill," another voice said with pained reluctance.
"Every time this bastard passes by, he swipes half a rack of ribs from me. I'm about to go bankrupt from his eating."
"Look at the state of that front end, he probably just finished a 'job' and came back, right?"
The third person squinted, trying to see the bloodstains on the rear of the truck.
"I bet he's got at least three or four 'materials' stuffed in his trunk."
"Everyone keep your damn heads down," a burly man who seemed to be a leader said in a deep voice, his gaze following the slowly passing pickup.
"Tell the boys below to keep a low profile these next few days. If anyone is blind enough to run into his barrel, I'll skin them myself and give them to this Owl as a midnight snack."
Those gazes—originally fierce, guarded, or numb—all shifted, lowered, or simply turned elsewhere the moment they caught a glimpse of that cold, hard profile in the driver's seat.
Their sharpness was completely retracted, replaced by a complex emotion mixed with fear, loathing, and a forced acknowledgment of his strength.
It wasn't just wariness.
It was more of a twisted 'awe,' forged through many bloody battles in this jungle where the strong prey on the weak.
Meanwhile, beside a fork in the road the pickup had passed,
At the edge of a rusty rooftop railing of a certain tall building, a small figure with messy dark green curly hair quietly poked her head out.
Her gaze tightly followed the pickup, watching it enter the territory of the most notorious Big Boss in the area.
The pickup drove toward a factory.
Seeing the vehicle, the armed guards at the entrance immediately pressed a switch, and the electric iron gate rose slowly with a harsh grinding sound.
The car drove into the empty workshop and stopped.
The light inside was dim, with only a few rays of morning sun casting down from high windows.
The pickup's unextinguished headlights shot out two murky beams of light, where countless dust particles floated silently.
"I've turned on the location tracking, come over now." Inside the car, Green held the communicator to his ear.
"Received, arriving in five minutes." A capable female voice came from the other side.
"By the way, be ready to explain why your private communication channel ended up in the hands of that damn black guy, Nick Fury."
"...OK." The female voice on the other end paused for a moment, revealing a hint of helplessness.
"Hey! I'm right here listening, you son of a bitch! This is a public channel!" Nick Fury's annoyed roar suddenly exploded from the communicator.
"Tch." Green gave a disdainful sneer, completely ignoring the subsequent cursing blurred by static from the speaker, and cut off the communication, stuffing the device back into his pocket.
The car door pushed open.
Buzz—
The spotlights high up all around suddenly lit up, their piercing light dispelling the gloom in the workshop.
The sudden change in light made Green instinctively squint.
Not far ahead, the rear door of a stretched Lincoln limousine parked in the center of the workshop slid open.
A figure poured out—it could no longer be described as walking out; it was more like a mountain of flesh was moving.
The moment that heavy body left, the noticeably sunken rear tire snapped back up with a soft thud.
He wore an expensive custom suit, yet it could hardly contain the wall-like, thick, and powerful muscular silhouette.
Above a neck nearly as wide as his shoulders, his head had coarse lines, and his lips were pressed into a cold, thin line.
And those small eyes, sunken under heavy eyelids, gleamed with the cunning of a villain as they stared at Green, who had a flat expression under the lights.
Kingpin, the undisputed underground emperor of Hells Kitchen.
"Where's the cargo?"
Green didn't answer.
He just raised his hand, snapped his fingers a few times, spread his palm toward the mountain of flesh, and beckoned toward himself.
"Hmph." Kingpin let out a dull huff from his nose and waved his hand.
Beside him, Bullseye, who had been standing still like a shadow, moved.
This tall, thin man, with blatant mockery on his face, carried a black money bag and walked over with a flippant stride.
He casually tossed the money bag at Green's feet, kicking up a small cloud of dust.
"Greetings, Little Bird."
Bullseye grinned, pressed two fingers together, and tapped the iconic Bullseye-shaped scar in the center of his forehead, letting out a low "hehehe" chuckle.
Green looked down at the dust-covered money bag at his feet.
He didn't bend down; he just lightly nudged the bag with the tip of his foot, then reached down, hooked the handle with a few fingers, and lifted it to check the weight.
An imperceptible glint flashed in his eyes.
The weight was wrong; it was a bit short...
Was this for amusement?
He slowly raised his head, his gaze first falling on Kingpin's expressionless face, then turning to Bullseye's provocative expression.
"Jie jie jie..."
He released his fingers, letting the handle of the money bag slip from his grasp and fall back to the ground with a "thud."
As if nothing had happened, he turned and walked toward the trunk of the pickup.
The trunk lid popped open.
Inside, Tony Stark's hands were tied behind his back, and he was curled up like a shrimp in the small space.
"I'm saying... next time you might as well let me sit in the passenger seat,"
Tony Stark squinted, trying to adjust to the sudden light, his voice weak. "I'm starving to death... Huh?"
His gaze swept over the surrounding fierce gang members, and the corners of his eyes twitched uncontrollably.
"Tell me, this definitely isn't a welcome party, right?"
He had been knocked unconscious by Green's hand-chop halfway and stuffed inside, completely unaware of where he had been taken.
"It will be soon." Green grabbed his arm and unceremoniously hauled him out of the trunk.
"Easy, Bro! For the sake of everything we've been through together, can you be a bit gentler?" Tony Stark stumbled as he stood up, grumbling unhappily.
But when he saw Kingpin a few meters away, all his complaints got stuck in his throat.
Good news: It seemed he was back in New York.
Bad news: He was back in the most notorious neighborhood in New York, standing in the lair of the neighborhood's biggest criminal force, facing its Master.
"Tell me we're ready to break out."
He turned his head and whispered to Green, a final trace of hope in his eyes.
Green didn't answer, didn't even look at him.
He just grabbed his arm, shoved him forward, and simultaneously kicked him in the butt.
"Ow!" Tony Stark cried out, stumbling toward Kingpin and Bullseye.
Bullseye reached out to steady him, the smile on his face growing even brighter.
"Hey, Mature Boy," Bullseye leaned close to Tony Stark's ear, his voice slimy.
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."
"Uh... no need to be so enthusiastic." Tony Stark felt a chill, his sphincter instinctively tightening.
He immediately looked to Green for help, only to find that Green wasn't looking at him at all.
"Then the service is over." Green's voice broke the brief silence.
"You can go." Kingpin turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over Bullseye before landing on Green's face.
Green hadn't hidden his gaze earlier, and Kingpinunderstood.
Bullseye had skimmed the Owl's money.
Although he secretly cursed this idiot for making enemies unnecessarily, Bullseye was his man, and he had to protect him.
"Mm." Receiving this confirmation that was practically an eviction notice, Green curled his lip and nodded indifferently.
"True," he shrugged.
"After all, it's only eight in the morning. Aside from money and an authentic Chinese dim sum, nothing can stop me from going back for a nap."
He turned toward the pickup but didn't get in immediately. Instead, he leaned in and pulled out that heavy tactical bag from the back seat, placing it on the driver's seat.
He unzipped it while reaching into his pocket for the communicator to dial a number.
"Hey! What are you doing?!"
"Don't move! Put your hands down!"
The surrounding gang members' nerves suddenly tightened, and they all pulled out their guns, pointing them at Green in unison.
Kingpin's gaze suddenly became dangerous, his massive fist clenching slightly.
Even Bullseye, who had been teasing Tony Stark, stopped and looked at Green with a frown.
"Look at that, our Little Bird seems unhappy. Want to call your mommy?"
Bullseye sneered, still feeling secure. He had recently been transplanted with some good stuff and was looking for a chance to test its power.
"What's this madman trying to do now?" Tony Stark's heart skipped a beat, but seeing Green's actions, a sliver of hope quietly rose.
He silently flexed his hand; a taser was hidden inside his sleeve.
Green didn't care about the surrounding muzzles, but the acutely perceptive members seemed to vaguely see a giant tiger coiled around his upper body.
"Beep..."
It rang only once before the other side picked up.
A steady middle-aged male voice with the composed tone of someone long in a high position came through. Green even pressed the speakerphone button, letting the voice echo clearly in the empty workshop.
"I'm glad you called, young man."
"Good morning, Mr. Edgar."
Green spoke, his gaze falling on Kingpin's increasingly grim face, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.
"I wonder, would you be interested in Tony Stark?"
The air in the workshop froze instantly.
The muscles on Kingpin's face tightened, and killing intent surged in his eyes.
He recognized the owner of that voice; that person's power was not something he could shake. When did this guy Green get involved with him?
"...Alive?" There was a half-second pause on the other end of the line.
"Uh-huh."
"I'll arrange for people to arrive immediately."
"Kill him!!!" Kingpin roared, pointing at Green, who had just hung up.
"Heh, getting anxious now."
Chapter 9: Guess Who Is The Villain?
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bullets slammed into the spot where Green had just been standing like pouring water. The pickup truck's metal skin let out a sharp wail, sparks flew, and the windshield turned into a web of white cracks before collapsing. Seat foam spilled out from the bullet holes.
"Smile."
The voice came from above. A dozen people looked up. Green's figure hung briefly in mid-air, the RPG launcher on his shoulder gleaming with the light of cold iron.
Boom!
The firing hammer clicked softly.
Someone squeezed out a single word: "Run—"
The tail end of the sound was swallowed by the roar of the explosion.
Flames expanded, erasing the figures.
After the shockwave, only a patch of damp, rapidly evaporating red remained on the charred ground.
"Full marks."
The moment Green's toes touched the ground, a chill pierced towards his brow.
Without hesitation, he quickly held the still-smoking launcher horizontally in front of him. Clang, clang, clang!
Several thin alloy needles embedded themselves into the barrel.
Green twisted his wrist, using the momentum to flick upwards.
The iron needles, still carrying force, immediately changed trajectory, "whooshing" upwards and piercing several tiny holes through the ceiling, letting down a few rays of light.
"Pretty fast."
He raised his eyes, looking towards the direction the hidden weapons came from. Bullseye was slowly retracting his throwing gesture.
"Boss, you go first."
Bullseye licked his lower lip, staring at Green.
Kingpin did not answer; he took out his phone and pressed the speed dial key.
"What number is the test subject here?"
"Number 084, my favorite little wolf girl, Boss." A mature female voice came through the receiver.
"Release her."
"Aww~ do you really want to?" She sounded somewhat reluctant.
Kingpin watched Green, who was slowly approaching, and his voice deepened.
"Release her."
"Fine, unlocked."
Ding—
The chains of the container suspended in mid-air in the factory suddenly snapped, and the heavy box crashed to the ground with a boom.
"Wow, a secret weapon."
Tony glanced back. As he spoke, a stun gun slid from his sleeve into his palm.
He pulled the trigger, and the needle pierced the side of Bullseye's face next to him.
A powerful electric current instantly shot through his nerves. Bullseye only let out a short "Ugh—" before collapsing, his whole body stiff.
Tony turned and ran.
"It's up to you, brother!" he shouted without looking back.
"Don't think you can escape!" Kingpin roared, his giant palm grabbing towards him.
Green's figure flashed between the two, the soul-releasing blade held high.
"Angry?" He grinned viciously and slashed down.
The blade sliced into Kingpin's tough, leathery flesh. Blood splashed, drenching Green.
"Ah! Fuck!" Kingpin roared in pain, his eyes violent, and his arms wrapped around Green's waist.
"Want to get intimate with me?"
Green backhanded the Inverted Spear of Heaven from the mouth of the ugly treasure and stabbed it straight down into Kingpin's left eye.
Ssh! The eyeball burst.
Kingpin raised his hand to cover and grab the blade. The edge shredded his finger flesh. The excruciating pain made the veins on his forehead bulge, and cold sweat poured down.
"Did no one tell you not to owe me the final payment? Or have I been acting too kind?"
Green grinned and applied more force, stepping onto Kingpin's shoulders like a night owl. The sharp blade in his hand was like a long beak sucking out brains, nailed firmly into his skull.
"Not one... cent..."
He twisted the hilt, the metal scraping against the orbital bone with a bone-chilling grinding sound.
"...is acceptable!"
Kingpin finally couldn't help but scream.
Just as the blade was about to pierce the brain, a strong wind rushed in from the side. Bullseye leaped into the air, his high leg sweeping towards Green like an iron whip!
Green didn't even turn his head, the soul-releasing blade in his other hand slashing towards the opponent's waist and abdomen.
The blade cut through flesh, but unexpectedly, there was a harsh sound of metal grinding, and sparks flew.
"What is this?"
Green raised an eyebrow and immediately pulled out the Inverted Spear of Heaven, leaping back.
The excruciating pain from the blade being ripped out from deep inside made Kingpin grunt and fall to his knees. He covered his eye socket, blood continuously gushing from between his fingers.
"Boss..."
Bullseye stumbled forward, barely managing to support Kingpin.
The numbness from the electric shock had not yet faded; the version Tony modified was an enhanced one, equivalent to releasing the energy of an entire high-capacity battery in an instant.
"Tsk tsk, looks really painful."
The two looked up at the sound; Green was hanging upside down from the iron frame, grinning and swinging back and forth.
"This time you've really messed up."
Bullseye clutched the cut on his side, unable to laugh.
If his spine hadn't been Adamantium, that slash would have cut him in half.
"Screech—"
A harsh tearing sound suddenly came from a container not far away.
Four metal wolf claws tore through the iron sheet, sparking a series of sparks.
A small figure wrapped in a thin white lab coat rushed out, leaping amidst the screeching, heading straight for the strongest person in the arena, Green.
"Wow!"
Green curled his abdomen and straightened up, the sharp teeth grazing the air as they passed.
The figure thrust her claws into the iron frame, using the force to flip over and climb to a high place like a beast.
"This is..."
Green sat on the iron frame and looked at the figure crouching on all fours.
It was a girl, twelve or thirteen years old, with delicate features that nonetheless exuded a raw, youthful wildness.
Her eyes were chaotic, filled with beastly frenzy. Button-sized devices were embedded in her temples on both sides. Her hands were equipped with metal wolf claws, and one on her feet had not yet fully extended.
"Weapon X, X-23... Laura? How is she here?"
Green frowned slightly. The timeline was wrong; this clone of Wolverine should have belonged to a much later future.
However, he himself existed here, so who knew how messed up the World had already become? This thought flashed for only a moment before he accepted the reality.
"Haa—"
The girl seemed to have heard her name. She suddenly shook her head in pain, then bared her teeth at him and let out a low roar.
"It seems that while being controlled, she still retains self-awareness."
Green took out a chocolate bar and waved it in front of him.
"It's salty, very delicious. Just pretend you didn't see me, how about that?"
While speaking, he caught a glimpse of Kingpin and Bullseye struggling to crawl towards the vehicle.
The girl blinked and tilted her head.
The next second, the device on her temples flashed with bright blue light.
With a barely audible click of electricity, her pupils suddenly contracted. She leaned forward, her limbs tensed, and her claws pressed against the edge of the iron frame, sparks flying amidst the harsh grinding sound as she lunged straight at him!
"Tsk, troublesome little wolf."
Green tossed the chocolate bar aside and moved instantly.
The hilt of the blade flipped between his fingers, he gripped it backhand, and his legs kicked hard against the iron frame, denting the metal surface.
His figure shot out like an arrow, closing in on the girl in the blink of an eye, filling her suddenly contracting pupils.
Too fast!
She swung her claws in a hurry, the high-temperature blades, heated to a glowing red, crossing in front of her.
Green crossed his two blades, clamping the claws, and used the momentum to pull back, driving a knee strike hard into her jaw.
"Ugh—!"
The girl flew upward, the violent shockwave traveling along her skeleton straight to her brain, her eyes rolling back.
Green tossed his two blades up, and with his free right hand, he pressed her head and smashed it hard against the iron frame!
"Crack."
A muffled sound of bone breaking echoed. The iron frame dented inward, and the girl's body went limp, completely losing the ability to move.
Ding, ding, the two blades spun and embedded themselves into the ceiling overhead.
"I told you it was delicious."
Green caught the falling chocolate bar and tossed it casually beside the unconscious girl.
He glanced down at the direction the vehicle was driving away, his gaze indifferent, not pursuing.
They couldn't escape.
Over these years, he had followed the rules too well, which instead gave some people the misconception that he was part of the lawful faction... This was his oversight.
However, he would make them feel exactly what pain was.
"Boom—!!"
The side wall of the factory collapsed with a roar.
Amidst the swirling dust, light surged in.
A blond man wearing a Stars and Stripes battle suit knelt on one knee in the center of the ruins, slowly looking up.
"ugly treasure, go pick them up."
The Cursed Spirit on Green's body responded by detaching and swimming towards the ceiling to retrieve the blades, while he himself leaped down.
"It should have been A-Train who came, not a busy man like you. A full thirty seconds for support—that's much slower than I expected."
Green walked closer and said.
"That idiot smashed a woman to pieces and is currently getting his story straight with the PR department, so, I came instead."
Homelander patted Green's shoulder affectionately.
"And I am the fastest, though you know, Madeline's milk is just too fragrant."
"Still, for Edgar to send you, he really went all out."
Green said.
"Uh-huh, the film crew will be here soon, but... I think I saw people from S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
Homelander glanced at Green, dragging out the end of his sentence with a playful smile.
"Aah~ you greedy bad guy, trying to eat from both sides again?"
"What's wrong with that? Tony Stark escaped from the hands of the Terrorists in Afghanistan, only to fall into the clutches of evil forces in New York. Fortunately, he was discovered by the S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence department immediately, and the billionaire was rescued unscathed by Homelander. This operation was originally a joint effort between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Vought Company, wasn't it?"
"Hmm~ I should fire that bunch of trash in the PR department and get you to help me instead."
Homelander listened, feeling pleased, and lifted his chin.
"Do you think I look like office material?"
At this moment, a gang member nearby who hadn't been killed by the explosion groaned.
Homelander turned his gaze, and red light lit up in his eyes.
Szz—
A heat vision beam swept across, and the man's head instantly evaporated, leaving only a ring of charred flesh around his face.
"Too ugly."
Green commented.
"Yeah, next time I'll aim for the chest."
Homelander nodded.
"Go find Tony Stark; he won't get far."
"Yes, I see him."
Homelander turned his feet inward, bent his knees, and raised his hands toward the sky like a breaststroke swimmer.
Bang!
He crashed through the ceiling and soared into the sky.
"Damn it, can't you walk outside before flying?"
Green stepped back a few paces, avoiding the falling dust.
He was very familiar with Homelander, or rather, very familiar with Edgar.
A few years ago, Edgar's granddaughter, Zoe Neuman, was kidnapped by a psychopathic Supe who could turn invisible. The commission went through several hands before reaching him.
He spent less than a minute solving it because the psycho happened to be ordering food at the same KFC as him at the time.
Afterwards, Edgar wanted to recruit him, introducing him to the Seven, but he refused. As a result, it attracted Homelander instead.
However, the two of them got along reasonably well...
As for shared hobbies, they weren't exactly the same; Homelander liked to drink milk, while he preferred catching and biting.
Chapter 10: Missed
Bruce looked up at the iron frame; the girl was gone, and so was his chocolate bar.
"What a loss."
Bang!
His pickup truck had been caught in the crossfire of the earlier battle and was now blown up.
He stepped forward quickly, hurriedly pulling the duffel bag from the driver's seat and patting out the flames on the corner.
Thankfully, the container was fireproof, and the contents were fine.
But the cash inside the car, along with Kingpin's bag of money beside it, had all been burned to ashes.
"Damn, what a real loss." He muttered, though a smile still hung on his lips.
In the sky, the ugly treasure, having swallowed its dual blades, drifted slowly back to curl up on Bruce.
He fished out a cigarette, leaned over to pick up a burning U.S. banknote from the embers, and brought it to the tip of his cigarette to light it.
He lowered his eyelids, took a deep drag, and luxuriously exhaled a cloud of smoke that tasted like money. He flicked away the remains of the banknote and brushed the sparks from his palm.
Sss—that's hot!
But it looked cool.
Money didn't matter; what he liked was the process of making it. In fact, the money he had saved was enough to squander for the rest of his life.
But if he didn't make money or take jobs, it would be so boring. Justice? A pile of shit. Crime? His mere existence was a sin against the laws established by certain people in America.
So, having completed the mission, he comfortably smoked this cigarette.
This was his right, and also his spiritual poison; he didn't want to, and wouldn't, quit.
A few seconds later, Homelander landed from the air, carrying Tony Stark.
"Guh! Ugh—!" As soon as Tony landed, he threw up.
"Tsk." Homelander moved two steps to the side in disgust.
"He hasn't even thrown up on a battlefield before." Bruce said.
"I tried to fly as smoothly as possible." Homelander said with an innocent look.
"Right, flying along like you're lying on a beanbag chair, completely forgetting you're carrying someone."
Bruce exposed him directly. Last time they went to a secret White Bear base, he had been blasted by cold wind for nearly an hour at high altitude in minus twenty-degree temperatures, and that cape kept whipping his face.
"Come on, man, you aren't really that weak, are you?"
Homelander opened his mouth, not knowing how to refute it for a moment, and turned his head to pretend to pat Tonyon the back.
"I'm fine, don't touch me." Tony shrank back instinctively to avoid him.
He had just witnessed the two people hunting him being cut in half by Homelander's heat vision, and immediately after, he was carried two hundred meters into the air from the ground in less than half a second.
Now he was experiencing tinnitus, ruptured capillaries in his eyes, and a loss of orientation. His nose felt hot; he raised his hand to wipe it. Good, it was blood.
"Just how many times did you pass me around?" Tonylooked at Bruce indignantly.
"That's it." Bruce spread his hands innocently.
Outside the factory, the motorcade that had screeched to a halt seemed to prove his words.
Tony caught a glimpse of the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the vehicles, then turned back to Bruce. Looking up, a Vought Company helicopter was roaring in, its exterior cameras filming the scene while it descended.
"Uh... that really is it." Bruce shrugged.
"Next time, tell me in advance. I won't run, but I need some mental preparation."
Tony stared straight at him. Among the people who came to the rescue, not a single face was familiar to him; it was all about interest exchanges. He felt like he had become a Christmas present.
"Don't get your hopes up. Go party if you want to party, and if you want to eat that sickly sweet double-layer cheeseburger of yours, order it quickly."
"You admit you ordered the cheeseburger for me! I guess you still have a conscience, you bastard." Tony was surrounded by rushing medical staff, his tired brows gradually relaxing.
"Heh." Bruce raised his middle finger, but his gaze shifted to the dashing female Agent outside the door.
"The hair gel styling is good today." He casually patted Homelander on the shoulder, avoiding the swarming reporters.
"Good eye."
Under the flashing lights, Homelander put his arm around Tony's shoulder, facing the cameras with a wide, happy grin.
The lights reflected in his eyes, as if he were truly the Master of all this, or rather, as if he had fully immersed himself in this stage set for him.
Bruce walked out of the factory, with the bustling crowd behind him—reporters, medical staff, crime scene investigators—like theatrical puppets at the end of a dream.
"Copy all electronic surveillance footage from inside the factory and cordon off this block." Hill arranged things methodically, her expression stern.
"Yes."
"Understood, I will send the results to your personal terminal as soon as possible."
The Agent beside her cast a look of admiration at her, then turned and left.
Hill put her hands on her hips and let out a light sigh.
"You drive." Seeing Bruce approach, she threw the keys over with a cold expression and headed straight for the passenger seat.
"Hmph." Bruce caught the keys, curled his lips, opened the car door, and got in.
He adjusted the car windows to be completely opaque.
"When we first met, you shot me three times, and I spared your life in exchange for you providing S.H.I.E.L.D. internal access. But as time has passed, have you forgotten who the Master is?"
"I'm very hot-tempered."
The hydraulic system made a rapid retracting sound, and the vehicle started moving.
"I have... mmph... my mission..." Hill was like a completely different person from before; she wasn't even in the passenger seat anymore.
"Oh? Is that so? During the five hours I dominated you, your faith wasn't that firm."
"And after those five hours... I know you better than you know yourself."
Bruce rested his hands on the steering wheel.
At this moment, he was driving two vehicles simultaneously: one on the road, and the other, just inches away.
"I... was wrong..."
"Why didn't Nick Fury come? Isn't he the one who loves meddling the most?"
"He is... looking for... Bruce Banner..."
"The Military is involved too?"
The car happened to drive over a large speed bump at that moment.
"Cough!!"
"Heh, I'll take that as your answer." Bruce chuckled, one hand controlling the steering wheel, the other pressing down on Hill's hair.
"Looks like there will be another big job soon."
"Gurgle..."
The vehicle gradually drove away. Between the rooftops of the towering buildings on one side, a nimble figure was leaping and traversing, stepping on the rising mist.
The chocolate bar chewed between her teeth and the crumpled plastic bag made a faint rustling sound in the wind. She just followed the fading car shadow aimlessly.
Outside the factory, a small figure with dark green curly hair, wrapped in a slightly oversized yellow raincoat, crouched down and quickly slipped through the swaying police line.
The tightly wrapped collar couldn't hide her cold, pale complexion. Flashing at the edge of the crowd, she slipped into the factory.
She was searching for something eagerly. Soon, her gaze locked onto the damaged shipping container.
She leaned in anxiously, but there was only a mess inside.
Torn restraint straps, disconnected life-support hoses, and several instruments still sparking with electricity—everything except the creature that had been kept here.
"Laura..."
She whispered, not knowing that she had just missed her.
The uncontrollable worry in her eyes and the helplessness of being alone trembled slightly in the shadows.
"Hey! Who are you?"
An Agent discovered this out-of-place girl and chased after her quickly.
The girl was startled and turned to run.
"Don't run! Stop!"
The two chased each other through the piled-up equipment.
Relying on her small stature, she squeezed into a corner filled with parts. The Agent followed quickly and shone a flashlight inside.
Under the beam of light, there was only a metal opening that had been forcibly broken.
The edges were twisted and curled, as if it had been wrenched open by some invisible force.
"What the fuck?!"
Chapter 11: The Bloodbath Sparked by Five Hundred Dollars
"Ah! Fuck!"
Inside the moving vehicle, Kingpin let out a low roar, his back pressed against the seatback.
His thick fingers plunged straight into his bloodied, mangled eye socket, hooked onto the ruined eyeball, and yanked it outward with a sudden force.
"Squelch."
The sticky sound of detachment was exceptionally clear in the confined space.
He tossed the gouged-out eyeball onto the floor; the end of the dark red flesh was still attached to a few strands of nerve, twitching on the carpet.
The inner panel of the car door, pressed by his other hand, was dented deeply by his terrifying, monstrous strength.
"Ngh... Hng..." On the bench beside him, Bullseye lay on his back, his hands clutching tightly at the gruesome gash in his abdomen, trying to keep his internal organs from sliding out.
On the surface, it looked like he had only taken one slash from Green, but in reality, his injuries were far more severe than Kingpin's.
That single slash had sliced away part of his kidney and stomach, finally striking against his Adamantium spine.
"How the fuck... how much money did you actually take from him?"
Kingpin tore open the cooler beside him, grabbed a handful of crushed ice with his bare hand, and pressed it fiercely against the long, gaping wound on his chest.
The ice cubes were quickly stained red, and the bloody water, mixed with melted ice, trickled down his muscular torso.
"Five..."
"Five hundred thousand?!"
"...Five hundred dollars."
"Hiss—" The veins on Kingpin's temples throbbed violently.
He didn't know whether to praise the greedy Green for being able to haggle over even five hundred dollars, or to curse this idiot beside him who, just to tease the other party, had actually only taken five hundred dollars.
Fucking five hundred dollars!!
He had lost an eye, taken a slash to his chest that nearly reached the bone, and this idiot beside him had almost been cut in half on the spot!
"You're crazy, he's even crazier, motherfucking fuck! Two complete lunatics!"
Kingpin felt completely innocent, yet he had no choice but to grit his teeth and swallow the bitter pill.
He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from his side and took a fierce gulp; the strong liquor burned his throat, but it couldn't suppress the stifling frustration in his heart.
"Then... what do we do now?"
"Double the number of people guarding the territory, hire more if you don't have enough, arm everyone with guns, and find a heavy-hitting middleman to go talk to Green."
Things hadn't reached the point of no return yet, and Kingpin didn't want to burn bridges with Green right now.
Perhaps subconsciously, the chill of that blade piercing his vision had doused his boiling rage.
He had to admit that he was indeed a bit fearful of that madman.
Because madmen have no weaknesses.
But he did.
"Turn around, pick up my wife and son first!"
...
Downstairs at the Life Foundation building, a Ford sedan bearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem pulled up.
Green pushed the door open and got out. The camera at the entrance scanned his face, and the tablet in the doorman's hand lit up with visitor information.
The doorman quickly put on a standardized smile and hurried over to greet him.
"Mr. Green, you don't need an appointment, you can head straight to the top floor."
"Hmm." Green glanced back at the driver's seat.
Hill was sitting there with a calm expression, or rather, she hadn't moved from her position at all.
"Nick Fury is very interested in you," she said, her voice slightly hoarse.
"Perhaps he will find time to meet with you."
"Better not let me see a black hard-boiled egg holding my spatula and frying eggs in my house." Green dropped this line and turned to walk toward the building.
The doorman gave a polite smile to the expressionless female Agent inside the car, then quickly followed Green.
He hadn't heard anything, and there was no need for him to hear anything.
Hill's hand rested on the grip of her gun, her eyes looking at the departing Green with complex emotions.
That man's back was exposed to her, completely undefended.
Just one shot, aimed at the back of his head, and then all of this—the humiliation, the forced submission—could end.
But her fingers froze outside the trigger guard.
Her body was refusing her will.
It must be that! How could her soul truly be corroded by such a villain?
She let go, but her brain uncontrollably flashed back to those images, how she had actively straddled...
"What am I thinking!" She pounded her forehead, and the torn wound at the corner of her mouth throbbed with pain.
She straightened the rearview mirror and saw clearly that tiny splits had been stretched open on both corners of her mouth, inflamed and swollen.
"Damn Green."
She gritted her teeth and cursed under her breath, grabbed a bottle of water from the glove box, and rinsed her mouth vigorously to wash away the viscous, fishy taste.
Afterward, she turned on the car radio.
"Beep... Hill, why has your channel been silent for this period?" A capable female voice suddenly came through.
"I was doing a system calibration. Why are you the one connecting, Mei?" Hill recognized the voice.
"A soldier in the Military injected Bruce Banner's blood, and Nick Fury got wind of it and rushed over there personally."
On the other end of the communication, Asian female Agent Melinda May was standing in an empty hangar, her gaze behind her sunglasses sweeping over the technicians inspecting a heavy transport aircraft nearby.
"I'll be your contact for the time being. Are you okay? Your voice sounds a bit hoarse."
"I'm fine. How is your psychological counseling going? Does it affect you being on the front lines now?" Hillcleared her aching throat.
"What do you think? Nick Fury has already approved my return to active duty. I'm doing great, and I'm planning to head to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy to pick out a few promising recruits."
"Alright."
"By the way, that asset you're handling... can you keep him under control? S.H.I.E.L.D.'s psychological profile on him is extremely chaotic, and his network of relationships is complex."
"Don't worry, I've got about seventy or eighty percent of it under control, the rest... I'm working on it." Hill pulled the car door shut and put on her headset.
"Be careful, don't get sucked in; that type of person naturally has a dangerous attraction."
"...I know."
"Communication ended."
"Copy that."
Hill turned off the radio, and the screen switched back to the navigation interface.
"Hoo..." She rubbed her temples hard and glanced resentfully in the direction where Green had left.
"Of course I know!"
She stepped on the gas, and the car slowly drove away from the building.
"Hmph."
Green, walking toward the revolving door with his back to her, curled the corner of his mouth into an amused arc.
How could he not sense that flash of killing intent?
But he knew she couldn't pull the trigger.
The most wretched state of this woman had long been fully seen by him and etched into his control.
Her loyalty might still belong to S.H.I.E.L.D., but her body—every inch of trembling, every gasp of surrender—had long since submitted to him in primitive desire.
The doorman led him into the private elevator.
Green raised his hand and pressed it against the fingerprint screen; the elevator door slid open.
He walked inside, while the doorman remained outside, bowing slightly until the metal doors closed.
The elevator ascended smoothly, with almost no sense of inertia.
The numbers on the door frame flickered rapidly on the screen, finally stopping at "135".
"Ding—"
The elevator doors slid open to both sides.
Outside the door, a young man in a suit was spinning a Tesseract with one hand. He looked up, a smile spreading across his face.
"Welcome to the Life Foundation, Mr. Green."
"Nice to meet you, I am Carlton Drake."
Chapter 12: Life Foundation
"Please don't mind that I previously issued the commission via online message."
"As long as there's money, it's fine."
Green walked out of the elevator, took the container from his carry-on bag, and handed it over.
"Thanks."
Drake took the container, pressed and slid his thumb along the cylindrical surface, and the special metal layer on the side lowered, revealing the heart floating in the solution inside.
The heart was still beating slowly, its surface bulging with faint contours resembling facial features, while the main veins stretched and swayed in the liquid like seaweed, extending fine, dense blood vessels.
"Look at that... it can actually maintain a low-activity flesh proliferation reaction even in the Kramer inhibitory solution."
Drake leaned in to examine it, his tone full of admiration.
"Its original vitality must be incredibly strong. How did you dispose of it?"
"Flayed it alive."
The surroundings went silent for a second.
The complexions of several assistants and researchers went visibly pale; they instinctively took a half-step back, shielding Drake in front.
"Heh, impressive." Drake forced the corners of his mouth to twitch, his smile somewhat stiff.
"No wonder so many people recommended you to me."
He seemed to have genuinely underestimated the other's style of operation, but upon second thought, this brutal method was exactly what was needed for that task.
He casually handed the container to the still-dazed assistant beside him, turned around, and beckoned to Green, his expression returning to normal.
"Come see my achievements."
"Mm-hm." Green stepped forward to follow.
"I have always longed for space. Beyond our existing detection methods, there may exist life forms similar to humans, yet surviving in completely different ways," he said as he walked.
"But this Planet beneath our feet also hides many creatures that existing science cannot explain. I want to understand them and use them to achieve a leap in the hierarchy of life. Only then will I have enough time to explore the stars."
"Do you need me to applaud, Mr. Drake?"
Green followed at his side, his gaze sweeping over the sealed compartments on both sides.
Inside were imprisoned "materials"—humans, apes, and some hard-to-classify living specimens. Collectively, they were all test subjects, illuminated coldly by incandescent experiment lights, their eyes filled with a similar numbness.
"You didn't have me look at these just to preach your grand ideals, right? Because I dreamed of being an astronaut when I was a kid too."
"Of course not."
"Bang!"
Before the words were finished, the glass of a compartment nearby was suddenly struck by a black shadow.
The thing was splayed against the transparent barrier, claws scraping against the glass, making a harsh, screeching sound.
"Are you running a Resident Evil scenario here? He won't suddenly spit out tentacles, will he?" Green leaned in with interest to observe.
The "person" inside had lost all their hair, their skin had multiple split openings, and a thread-like object was slowly wriggling under the skin of their forehead.
"Is this some kind of parasite?" Green pointed to the wriggling trace.
"No, it's twine." Drake stepped closer and explained calmly.
"Huh?"
"In 1954, in the town of Francis, Kansas State, America, a man named Greg Cock, to commemorate his deceased daughter, used witchcraft to weave her corpse into a ball of twine. It wasn't until a few years ago that my expedition team found it, and by that time, there was more than just his daughter's corpse inside the ball of twine."
"It extends twine with biological properties to sense, capture, and devour life, and can also transform human bodies into controlled 'Twine People.' They possess a certain level of intelligence, but basically follow their instincts."
"We cut off a part from the main body to conduct experiments, but progress is slow. If they are separated from the main body for too long, they die. We have collected some similar 'abnormal items,' but we lack systematic research data on these concepts involving abstract forces."
"Oh." Green responded indifferently after listening.
"I've asked several 'professionals' in this field, and they all advised me to stop the research." Drake smiled, his eyes revealing satisfaction.
"But you are different. Your attitude is too indifferent—either you don't care how excessive we are being, or you are so strong that you don't care about our little antics."
"Let's be direct. No need to test me; I only care about money." Green said without beating around the bush.
"OK." Drake took the tablet from his assistant.
"A subsidiary of mine is developing a substance that is expected to allow human bodily functions to reverse-grow back to a youthful state, but I need key data. This data is currently controlled by the Black Lake Genetics company, which has Military backing."
As he spoke, he pulled up the data on the tablet.
"And through special channels, I learned that the source of that data actually comes from one place: an area that has been jointly blockaded by the White Bear and America in the form of a'secret alliance' since the end of World War II."
Green looked at the screen.
In the footage shot from a helicopter, a dense forest surrounded a bottomless canyon. Both banks were equipped with multiple automatic machine guns, and there were groups of self-sensing trigger bombs hanging from the cliffs. The main area of human activity was two watchtowers on the opposite bank, while the valley floor was obscured by thick fog, making it impossible to see anything.
"The intelligence we have is still very limited, but I can guarantee you a one hundred percent safe extraction, and that your identity information regarding your participation in the operation will be completely destroyed. No one will know who did it."
"Hmm~ 'One hundred percent'?" Green handed the tablet back, a half-smile on his face.
"That doesn't sound safe at all. Did you learn this pitch from an American blockbuster?"
"Most of it, yes, but—"
"I'll take it."
"Huh? Oh, right... okay." The speech Drake had prepared got stuck in his throat.
"I need a set of Level 5 Military equipment, detailed information on the personnel stationed in the canyon, and a complete firepower distribution map."
Green pointed his index finger through the glass at the head of the Twine Person in the compartment.
It was enraged, frantically slapping the glass and roaring at him, the hot air from its mouth condensing into a patch of white fog on the glass.
Green glanced at Drake.
"You can do that, right?"
The tone of this conversation sounded more like a superior issuing orders to a subordinate.
"No problem!" He couldn't hide his excitement, then realized he had lost his composure. He coughed lightly and quickly composed his expression.
"Send the specific time to that anonymous website I use to contact you. Anything else?"
"Nothing else. I will assemble a professional team to assist you."
Drake's gaze fell on Green, gradually becoming scorching.
"I have a premonition that your existence will be the key to realizing my plan. Look at this body; it's practically the end point of the life evolution I envision. How about leaving some body data for me?"
"Hey, hey, that's enough," Green swatted away the hand the other tried to reach out with.
"Don't touch me, dammit. I sell my skills, not my body. You should just go be your astronaut."
"Ahem... I will contact you as soon as possible."
"Only business!"
Green turned and walked away, his pace instinctively quickening a bit.
"Of course it's business. I like valuable partners."
Drake watched Green's retreating back, the smile on his face fading bit by bit, like warm light being drained away, leaving only the gloom and depth illuminated by the cold white lights of the laboratory.
How could someone who could single-handedly build a technological empire like the Life Foundation remain only on the surface of emotions?
If he hadn't thoroughly dug into Green's battle records beforehand, the other party would have become a new exhibit in one of the compartments on either side of this corridor the moment he handed over the commissioned item.
But now, his expectations for Green went beyond that.
"Accelerate the development progress of the spacefaring vessel; I do not want the progress of space exploration to fall behind."
"Yes."
A flash of irrepressible brutality crossed his eyes.
"Every head of Hydra has its strengths and weaknesses, and I will become the strongest one."
"Hail Hydra."
The surrounding researchers stopped their work, their expressions fanatical.
"Hail Hydra!!"
Ding—the elevator door slid open.
Green walked straight out of the building and took a deep breath of the cool outdoor air.
"Identity information completely destroyed..." A mocking curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.
Just like when the other party first contacted him online for the commission, Drake didn't trust him, and neither did he. It wasn't like their relationship became incredibly good after meeting a few times.
What was certain was that the other party needed him, and the first impression was not bad. Although there was malice hidden in his eyes, it made him feel more relaxed than kindness. He was used to dealing with villains. Just take it one step at a time, hmm~ feels quite fun!
"Sir, do you need me to call a car for you?" The doorman hurried over, his tone respectful.
"No trouble."
Green waved his hand, walked to the roadside, took out his phone, and skillfully unlocked a shared electric scooter.
Under the doorman's somewhat stunned gaze, he straddled the scooter that was slightly too small for him.
His tall figure looked mismatched with the slender frame, like a thin antelope supporting an adult lion. The tires sank noticeably, and the vehicle's body emitted a faint metallic groan.
He turned back and waved casually.
"Bye-bye~"
"Good... goodbye."
"So small. Can't they make them bigger?"
Green adjusted the slightly ridiculous little yellow hat on his head, a blatant, evil smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
"First, let's have brunch, and then, begin the revenge."
The wind brushed past his ears, and he lowered his voice, as if talking to himself, or perhaps announcing something.
"What a wonderful half-day."
"Heh heh heh..."
The low laughter scattered into the wind after the New York morning, disappearing along with the little yellow hat into the flowing streetscape.