Chapter 111: Futile Regret
"Helen?" Green stood by the sofa, looking down at the reclining woman.
"Look, the big reporter my little sweetheart was talking about is back."
Helen's gaze was still glued to the TV entertainment show, but the corners of her mouth curled up. Out of the corner of her eye, her lazy voice drifted out, soaking between the two of them.
"Sorry, I'm being a bit too presumptuous."
"But staying cooped up at home all the time is very bad for recovery."
"And since Gwen abandoned this old woman, I had no choice but to come over here."
"Do you mind?"
Her flushed face—it was hard to tell if it was from laughing or something else.
It wasn't the green blush of a young girl, but a ripe maturity with a lustrous sheen unique to her age, like a piece of butter half-melted in a pan.
"Of course not." Green felt it was the latter.
On the table, more than half of that box of liqueur chocolates had been eaten. Golden foil was scattered on the coffee table, and there was a half-bitten one, its dark liqueur core congealed at the edge of the cut.
The mellow aroma of whiskey wafted in the air, mixed with her scent and the warmth of the soft lights, blending into an indescribable fragrance.
"Are they asleep?"
Green said, walking towards their room. The hallway lights weren't on; only the light from the living room shone in diagonally, dragging a long band of light across the floor.
He pushed open the door. The hinges creaked softly. The darkness in the room was sliced open by the crack of the door, and warm light leaked in, painting a narrow streak of light across the beds.
The outlines and the slight rise and fall of breathing were visible on each bed.
Green's gaze fell on the bed in the middle.
Lorna's bed, but two people were lying in it.
His brow furrowed slightly. He widened the door crack a bit more, allowing the hallway light to probe inside and illuminate a head of scattered red hair.
A girl was hugging Lorna tightly from behind, her face buried in the crook of Lorna's neck, her leg draped over Lorna's. Her posture was both domineering and clingy, like a koala clutching a tree trunk and refusing to let go.
"It's their classmate, Jane."
A voice came from behind him, very close—so close that her breath almost brushed his arm.
Green turned his head.
Helen had quietly approached at some point and was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him at the doorway.
She wasn't wearing shoes; her bare feet were on the floor, her shoulder pressing against his arm. Her body heat seeped through the thin fabric, warm and inviting.
"Girls like having pajama parties. They played until late before sleeping."
Her voice was kept very low, as if afraid of waking those inside, or perhaps as if she only wanted him to hear.
"I know." Green closed the door. They had mentioned it.
"Oh, right. They made chocolate cookies today. I taught them."
She turned and walked toward the kitchen, her steps a bit unsteady. She bent down to reach for the oven handle.
The section of her waist wrapped in her undergarments dipped; the line of her spine slid all the way down from her shoulder blades into the small of her back.
Her hip line rose, the fabric tightening further, digging into her soft flesh.
She picked up the baking tray and ran toward Green as playfully as a young girl.
The row of cookies on the tray was still steaming, the chocolate scent wafting from her fingertips all the way to his face.
"Try one."
Green picked up a cookie that still held some warmth and tossed it into his mouth.
His gaze, however, very cleverly sought out those massive charms.
Helen noticed as well. She looked down, following his gaze, a flash of knowing pride in her eyes. The corners of her mouth curled up as if she had been waiting for this moment, and she intentionally puffed out her chest a bit.
"Is it good?"
"Yeah," Green said absentmindedly.
"Has Gwen let you taste hers yet?" Helen's tone suddenly became bold.
"Cough!" Green choked slightly, swallowing the cookie whole.
"You're drunk." He decisively turned and walked toward the bathroom.
"But it's clearly already standing tall."
Helen stood at the kitchen door, still holding the tray of cookies. She watched his back, her gaze somewhat resentful, her mouth pouting slightly.
"Stingy."
She had seen George's—George when he was young. He was as strong as a bull and famous for his fighting skills in the police station, but even that was just a normal person's size.
But this...
Her eyes gradually grew hazy, as if something she had suppressed for a long time had finally found a crack.
George's 'output' was too little; it only took a few minutes, like he was just completing a task. There wasn't even enough time to try anything different.
"Just safe to 'consume' this one..."
"Just steal a bite once... just once. Gwen will forgive her mom."
She took a deep breath, her feet leaving the floor as she tiptoed like a cat, slowly walking toward the bathroom where the sound of water was beginning to rise.
She swallowed hard, as if swallowing her hesitation. Her hand rested on the bathroom doorknob, but she stopped.
She was struggling. The alcohol-induced rush was fading in the face of reason.
"What am I doing? No, this is wrong!"
She had a husband, a daughter, a stable home, this house she had lived in for over a decade, the habit of baking bread every morning, and the fixed route to the supermarket every Wednesday. Everything was fine.
What was she doing now?
Fine, George was terrible. She knew it; he had been terrible since they were young. But bad boys were always attractive. By middle age, it was just a habit she couldn't break.
In comparison, she couldn't help but develop an inappropriate obsession with Green, her daughter's perfect boyfriend—or perhaps it was jealousy towards Gwen.
They lived right across the street, so close. Every day she looked out from her home to the other side, as if looking into a mirror.
But it was the reverse, the beautiful side. Over there were young bodies and vibrant energy—things she had lost long ago. She was too empty at home, so empty she even scared herself.
No!
Absolutely not!!
Helen shook her head violently, trying to suppress the fantasies in her mind, but amidst the sound of water separated only by a glass door, they uncontrollably progressed.
The water splashed. Behind the door panel, it sounded muffled. The images in her head were louder than the water.
She turned away with difficulty.
The door suddenly opened a crack. A large hand reached out from the gap and grabbed her wrist.
"No..."
Her whole body was pulled inside, crashing into that cloud of damp steam and against that burning hot body.
Soon, the sound of water in the bathroom was mixed with a sound more hurried than falling water, sounding like crying.
"Ahhh..."
...
Dawn. Morning light squeezed through the gaps in the curtains.
The three girls walked out of the door one after another, still dazed. Gwen walked in front, rubbing her eyes, her blonde hair messy like a nest of newly hatched chicks.
Laura followed behind her, yawning, her steps sluggish, her slippers making a rustling sound on the floor.
Finally, Jane walked with her arms around Lorna, their steps synchronized.
She was pressed against Lorna's back, her chin resting in the crook of Lorna's neck, her arms around Lorna's waist, and her legs wrapped around her too, like a koala clutching a tree trunk and refusing to let go.
But Lorna seemed to have become somewhat desensitized to her best friend's clinginess. She walked forward with a scrunched-up face, her long dark green hair loose, the ends curling slightly.
"Hmm?" Gwen narrowed her eyes, pausing at the kitchen door.
Someone was sitting on the high chair at the bar. Fried eggs and toast were set before him. A fork pierced the yolk, and the golden liquid slowly flowed out, seeping into the holes of the toast.
"Oi! I'm back." Green tilted his chin and took a bite of the toast.
Chapter 112: Caught Red-handed
Without a moment's hesitation,
"Cosmic Flying Kick!!" Laura took a running start and leaped into the air, her leg stretched perfectly straight as her foot aimed directly for Green's face.
Green caught her ankle with one hand as if catching a flying throw pillow.
Laura exerted her core strength, expertly wrapping her other leg around Green's neck, hanging onto him like an octopus.
"You're back late, you bastard!" She tugged on Green's ear, leaning her body back until the cartilage turned red.
"Exactly!" Lorna followed suit immediately. She stepped forward, and without her 'human backrest,' the dazed Jane stumbled, nearly falling flat on her face.
"My Lord had to work, you know." Green let go of Laura's ankle and caught Lorna as she lunged head-first, but he failed to catch Gwen as she pounced into a hug from the side.
Green looked down at them with some confusion. "Why do I feel like you've all gotten smaller?"
"It's you who got bigger again!" the three girls said in unison.
None of them were short for their age. Between their growth spurts and the influence of Green's aura, Lornastood at 1.72 meters, Gwen at 1.75 meters, and Laura had even reached 1.78 meters.
It was just that their chests were so large, making their frames seem a size smaller in comparison.
"Oh." Green scratched his cheek.
Lorna stepped forward and hugged Green as well, burying her face in his chest.
Jane stood nearby, watching the scene, suddenly feeling a bit like a third wheel.
"Hello." Green noticed her and greeted her.
"Heh... hehe, hello, Bro—Green? Uh..." Jane's voice grew smaller and smaller, her eyes darting around, unsure of what to call him.
"Just call me Green," Green said. "Welcome."
"OK." Jane's voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz.
Lorna shot her a look, and Jane acted as if she had received a direct command.
"I'm going to wash up!" She turned and ran toward the bathroom, her slippers slapping against the floor all the way.
"Where's that armor of yours?" Laura asked, tilting her head while still hanging onto Green.
"What?" Green was confused.
"The one you wore in the news the day before yesterday," Gwen chimed in.
She had already slid down from Green and was standing beside him, looking up at his face.
"Your appearance that night was caught on a live stream," Lorna said with a hint of excitement in her voice.
"The Military gave you some ridiculous 'Mutant Lifeform' title, but among teenagers—like my classmates who idolize you—they've given you the name 'Tyrant.'"
"I like the one they came up with."
"Now people online even want Mortal Kombat to add your character model! You have so many fans; I've even seen people getting tattoos of your likeness!"
"Armor, armor!" Laura shook Green's head vigorously. "I want to drive it!"
The three girls chirped like a nest of birds that had just left the nest, their voices overlapping.
"I've chosen the location for your geological field survey," Green said, his voice drowning out the three of them.
"Where?" the three girls asked in unison.
"New Mexico. We're going to play with a hammer." Green picked up his phone from the counter and showed them the intel Hill had sent early that morning—or more accurately, he was going to check on those two troublesome brothers who were thousands of years old.
On the screen were several satellite photos of an open desert of yellow sand. In the center was a pit the size of a basketball court, with a hammer embedded at the bottom.
"It looks so sunny." Lorna's focus was on the yellow sand. She wrinkled her nose as if she could already feel the scorching Sun on her skin.
"That hammer looks very heavy." Laura's focus was on the pit.
She stared at the hammer in the photo, her eyes lighting up; the crater made by the hammer looked like a meteorite impact.
"When are we going?" Gwen didn't care where; she just wanted to go see the world with the person she cared about.
"Now." Green rubbed her small head, plucked Laura off of him, and turned toward the bedroom.
"Pack your bags, we'll leave in a bit. I've already requested leave for you all."
The three girls watched Green leave, their eyes darting around mischievously.
"Green came back last night..." Lorna lowered her voice sneakily.
"So..." Gwen followed up, drawing out the last word.
"He took a shower."
The three girls looked at each other and simultaneously broke into knowing smiles.
They dashed toward the bedroom. Lorna waved her hand, closing the door remotely, and with a snap of her fingers, the lock clicked into place.
Laura expertly pulled a simple signal receiver out of her backpack, set it up, and connected it to the desktop computer in the room while Gwen pulled over chairs and lined them up.
Green likely never imagined that three greedy little mice had appeared in his home where he had let his guard down.
"Save this for tonight!" Lorna tossed away the tissue box in Laura's hand. "He'll smell it."
"Fine."
Gwen sat on the side, wanting to look but feeling shy, yet she looked anyway.
Laura opened the footage recorded by the camera.
The camera was on the ceiling, right above the showerhead, at a very sharp angle that captured the entire shower stall.
The screen lit up with mist everywhere, a vast expanse of white, then the steam cleared slightly, revealing fair, flesh-toned skin.
Then, they saw Helen's distorted face moving in and out of focus...
Meanwhile, Green returned to the bedroom.
He opened the wardrobe and pulled out a few items of clothing—dark and stain-resistant—stuffing them into his backpack without even folding them.
He then pulled a few fake IDs out of a drawer, rubbing his thumb over the edges of the lamination to ensure they weren't peeling before tossing them in as well.
He zipped it up and turned around.
By the bed, the quilt was arched, and long golden hair spilled out from the edge, spread across the pillow like a piece of crumpled silk.
Helen was lying on her side, her face pressed against her shoulder, the pearl pendant on her earlobe still swaying slightly.
The quilt only covered her up to her waist.
On her exposed back and shoulders, the flushed red of indulgence remained—fingerprints, kiss marks, and traces of being repeatedly crushed, deep and shallow, like scattered fallen blossoms.
The laziness emanating from her very core was thicker than any perfume.
After being so thoroughly satisfied physically, the charm about her had intensified, like a ripe fruit so full of juice it was about to overflow.
But her gaze was complicated.
Beneath that layer of satisfaction, something else was suppressed—something like regret, or shrinking back.
"What happened between us... don't let Gwen know. And there won't be a next time."
Green's movements paused, and he tilted his head to look at her. There was no guilt in his gaze, no lingering affection, only a faint sense of confusion.
"Are you an idiot?"
He chuckled.
"It was just a one-night stand. You don't actually think I'm going to cling to you, do you?"
He casually pulled a stack of cash from a side pocket of his backpack and tossed it onto the bed.
Helen was stunned.
She looked at the bundle of money, then at this scumbag.
"Wait until we leave before you come out."
Green zipped up his backpack and stood up.
"Also, don't mess with my things. You wouldn't want to know the punishment."
He opened the door and walked out without the slightest hesitation, pushing the door shut behind him. The hinges gave a slight creak before the latch clicked into the frame.
Helen lay on the bed, staring at the closed door, her fingers beneath the quilt clutching the sheets until her knuckles turned white.
She opened her mouth, an indistinct syllable rolling in her throat before she swallowed it back down, falling into a state of self-doubt, her mind blank.
When Green walked back into the living room, he found the three girls sitting in a row before the sofa with their backs to him. Hearing his footsteps, they all turned their heads to look at him with expressions of disdain—except for Gwen.
She kept her head down, her blonde hair hanging down and obscuring half of her face.
"What's wrong?"
"You..."
Just as Laura opened her mouth, Gwen spoke up.
"I had an interview for an intern assistant position at Oscorp scheduled for this afternoon. I... don't plan on going anymore."
She looked up and forced a smile at him; it was very strained.
"...Alright," Green said indifferently, lowering his eyes.
Gwen stood up and walked toward the bedroom. When she reached the door, her hand rested on the handle for a moment before she turned it, walked in, and closed the door.
Laura rolled her eyes at him, pulled up the hesitant Lorna, and walked toward the bathroom.
Green watched their retreating figures from the corner of his eye, then turned back to look at the closed bedroom door.
The morning light from outside slanted in, drawing a line between light and shadow on the floor.
He stood on that line, half his body in the light and half in the shadows. The light was so bright it made him squint, while the shadow was so dark it nearly swallowed him whole.
He frowned, lost in thought. There was an indescribable feeling in his chest—it wasn't pain; it was a tightness.
It was as if something was stuck there, unable to go up or down. He raised a hand to press against it, then let it fall.
"Have I... grown soft?"
Chapter 113: A Deliberate Encounter
Puente Antiguo, New Mexico.
The bar door stood half-open as the midday heat, thick with dust, billowed in. It failed to disperse the lingering smell of sweat and the sour tang of cheap beer inside.
A television hung above the bar, its screen flickering. The anchor's voice was drowned out by the intermittent clamor of the patrons.
[Regarding the long-standing societal issue of the "Mutant gene," Dr. Hank McCoy confirmed at a press conference that...]
[...a "cure" capable of permanently suppressing the expression of the X-gene has entered the pre-clinical validation stage. Currently, the agent's performance in stability tests targeting specific alleles has met expectations...]
"Cure?" A balding man at the bar sneered, slamming his beer mug onto the counter.
"That Mutant business is a disease; it should have been treated long ago."
"No kidding," the man next to him agreed, a cigarette dangling from his mouth as he squinted.
"Those ones who can burst into flames or fly—wouldn't you be scared with them around? Who knows when they'll get upset and light you up."
"Some say it's a gift from heaven," someone in the corner interjected indifferently.
"Gift from heaven?" The balding man turned around, his voice rising.
"You call those who can read minds and control objects a 'gift'? That's called a threat."
A woman in fishnets sat against the wall. She had a large frame, prominent cheekbones, and a square jaw.
The drink in front of her was barely touched. Most of the ice had melted, and beads of water were trickling down the side of the glass.
She looked away from the TV, her gaze cold and displeased. But she had a mission.
Magneto had sent her to confirm whether the hammer that fell in this town could be used as a weapon. However, the site had been cordoned off by S.H.I.E.L.D., and she had to find a way in.
Just then, a van pulled up outside the bar.
The vehicle was covered in a thick layer of dust, with a few strands of hay clinging to the bumper. The door slid open, and several people filed out.
"A bar!" one of them shouted loudly, as excited as a child just out of school.
It was a burly blonde man, striding toward the entrance with purpose.
"Hey! Thor! Do you even have money? You're in such a rush," Darcy Lewis said behind him, chewing gum.
"A god never defaults on a debt!" Thor pulled the door open and looked back to give her a wink.
"Cover me for now."
"I..." Louis laughed in frustration, her hands shoved into her cargo pants pockets. Still, she couldn't help but blush slightly at that handsome face which so perfectly fit the American aesthetic.
"Let him be. How much can he possibly drink?"
Jane Foster rounded the back of the van, her gaze glued to that broad back. Her lips curled upward, and her eyes softened like melting butter—or rather, she was hooked by someone's muscles.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Louis rolled her eyes. She turned to check the instruments in the van, her fingers tapping twice on the keyboard.
"But don't forget this guy is about to drink our already meager research budget dry. We haven't secured any investment yet, and we're paying for this long trip out of our own pockets."
She pouted, her tone dissatisfied, yet she still dutifully replaced the protective cover over the equipment.
"If he turns out not to be some 'God of Thunder,' we're going to lose big time."
"Then we can only pray that he is, so we can get reimbursed," Erik Selvig poked his head out from the passenger seat. He squinted and fanned his face with his hand, offering a gentle smile.
"Maybe he'll give us a giant diamond. Besides, I'm thirsty too."
"Right, right," Louis sighed and closed the car door. She was already thinking about how to find a different team to follow.
As an intern, she wasn't getting any benefits and was just running errands. But when it came to actually leaving, she felt a bit reluctant.
The group followed him into the bar. The door swayed behind them, not quite closing, letting in a sliver of parching wind.
Dust spiraled in through the crack in the sunlight, only for the door to be yanked wide open from the outside by a large hand.
A man and two women walked in, all wearing consistent expressions of cold indifference. The man led the way in a dark shirt with sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing sturdy wrist bones.
Their outstanding looks drew many gazes in the shop. Someone at the bar forgot to sip their drink, and someone in the corner forgot to light their cigarette.
This included Jane Foster and her companions who had just entered.
Thor plopped down, the chair creaking under his weight.
"Barkeeper, four mugs of beer!" he bellowed, raising a hand.
"Not so loud," Jane pressed his hand down, her palm against his forearm. That part of his arm was as hard as stone.
"You've really adapted to the local customs well, haven't you?"
Louis pulled her gaze back from the tall, sturdy man among the trio and rolled her eyes.
"Maybe you could try a different flavor," she whispered, leaning into Jane's ear.
"Compared to this barbaric country brute, I'd rather choose that Asian man who just walked in."
Foster took a glance after hearing that.
The three people had chosen a window seat, which happened to be very close to them.
The man's back was to them. His slightly hunched posture pulled his shirt taut, revealing the sharp contours of lean back muscles that flowed from his shoulder blades to his waist.
Jane subconsciously pursed her lips but turned back, instead giving Louis a look—'You go.'
Louis was also tempted. She straightened her collar and was about to stand up,
When the girl wearing bright yellow sunglasses casually rested her hand on the back of the chair, lifted her forearm, and gave Louis the middle finger without even turning her head.
Louis froze. She was angry!
But after comparing their physical builds, she suddenly wasn't so angry anymore—because she was kind.
Secondly, her current 'trash' physique, which couldn't even handle a five-hundred-meter run, wasn't enough to support her giving the other girl a 'Louis-style' shoulder throw.
"Laura."
The other girl called out in annoyance. Laura curled her lip and lowered her hand, which served as a way out for Louis.
Louis looked at her with gratitude.
Cold white skin, narrow fox-like eyes, high cheekbones, and sharp, aggressive features. Combined with that dark green curly hair, she was a true snake-like beauty.
Sensing Louis's gaze, she turned her head and gave her an apologetic smile.
"Oh ho ho! So cool~~ I want to be hugged~~" Louis's eyes lit up with intense highlights as she screamed internally.
"Hmm, he is a warrior. Perhaps the best in Midgard," Thorsaid, looking seriously at the man.
[Midgard: The name used in Norse mythology; Thor, Loki, and the gods of Asgard all refer to Earth this way.]
Louis curled her lip in annoyance, her mouth twitching downward and eyes rolling up. Her entire expression said, 'Here we go again.'
"You also said Elvis was the King of Ducks."
"We should talk about how to get in. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s basesystems aren't that easy to crack."
Erik came over carrying a large platter of fried food. He set the tray on the table, the plastic glistening with oil.
"Aren't you a god? Think of something," Louis looked at Thor.
"Ah..."
Thor had just grabbed a large nacho and was about to shove it into his mouth when he felt several gazes fall on him simultaneously, especially Jane's.
He stopped mid-motion, the chip hovering by his mouth and sauce dripping onto his beard.
"Ahem," Thor put the chip down, cleared his throat, and sat up straight.
"If I can touch my hammer, I can regain my divine power."
"We know that, obviously," Louis stabbed her fork into a taro pie, propping her face up with her hand.
"How do we get in? 'God of Hammers,' I might not be able to hack the base's systems, and there are countless guards inside."
"Mere guards," Thor remained mysteriously confident, as if those armed sentries were nothing more than ants in his way.
"It's better to be cautious. You can be cut by glass now," Foster said with a smile, looking at Thor.
Thor paused, then grinned and said,
"You're right."
"...Shit," Louis couldn't watch anymore. She smacked her forehead with her palm with a loud 'thwack.'
"So that means there's no plan? We're just going to barge in?"
She looked at the two people in front of her: one muscle-bound meathead and one astrophysicist blinded by love.
Did they not realize what kind of place they were trying to break into?
She turned to look at Erik.
The old man was taking a draft beer from the server. A bit of the amber liquid overflowed, running down the side of the glass.
He took a sip, then reached for a nacho, dipping it in a thick layer of guacamole and eating it contentedly, sauce staining the corner of his mouth.
"What?" He shook his head with an air of indifference. "How interesting."
"Great, another crazy old man," Louis rolled her eyes. She grabbed a fry and bit into it, chewing vigorously.
True, the knowledge he possessed always allowed this 'Old man' to survive.
But she was a hacker! If she got caught, she'd definitely be locked in a dark room and forced to type on a keyboard twenty-four hours a day!
"Are you guys going in to get that hammer?"
A voice interjected from the side.
The man at the opposite table turned his head, his hand resting on the back of his chair as he looked at them with a faint smile. Of the two girls beside him, one was playing with her phone and the other was debating over the menu; neither looked up.
Their voices weren't particularly loud in the noisy bar.
Well, this place was a self-service restaurant where the background music mixed with the clatter of dishes, muffling human voices effectively.
But they had been noticed by a certain fellow looking for fun.
Or rather, he had appeared here on purpose.
"I can help you."
"For free."
Chapter 114: Agent Green, A Girl's Heart
"Excuse me, Sir, but who are you?" Erik put down his draft beer and wiped his mouth.
Green smiled, flipping his fingers back like a street magician, producing an ID folder between his fingers from an empty palm.
Louis, who was closest, leaned in to take a look.
"Senior FBI Agent, Green Scott Kennedy."
She read it aloud and looked up at Green.
Great, they were plotting how to break into national assets right under the nose of a high-ranking government official.
She had no choice but to believe it; the ID bore the government's exclusive seal.
"Don't worry." Green seemed to see through her thoughts and tucked the ID back into his pocket.
"Our system is independent of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s. Strictly speaking, we're brother departments—the kind that don't get along very well."
Louis's gaze shifted to Jane, her eyebrows raised slightly, lips pursed, and she gave a small nod of her chin toward Green.
Jane understood the signal.
"So, why are you helping us?" she asked.
"Naturally, because the base contains something we need. Our goals simply don't conflict."
"We?"
Louis's gaze moved from Green to the two girls beside him. They didn't look very old and didn't fit the image of the capable female Agents she saw on TV.
"When I was following him and killing people, you were still giving blowjobs to big black guys."
Laura scoffed, the corners of her mouth curling down. She didn't even look up before receiving a smack to the back of her head from Green.
She bared her teeth and gave him a stealthy kick under the table.
Louis was speechless. Fine, they fit the image even less now.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something in rebuttal, but felt it might not be wise to argue with a girl who claimed to have killed people.
"We know the specific structure of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base," Lorna took over the conversation, placing her phone face down on the table.
"But the operation requires cutting the power inside the base from another coordinate point simultaneously to crash the entire security system. Otherwise, we'll be detected by infrared sensors within ten meters of entering the interior."
In the movies, the original security system of the basewhere Mjolnir was located consisted only of personnel on watch and physical fences, far below the alert level Lornadescribed.
However, it was here because Green was here. He planned to get some benefits from Asgard, and Thor, this muscle-head, was both very useful and easy to use.
"In other words, we need manpower to cooperate. During the time it takes for the backup power and servers to come back online, there's a window of about five minutes to complete our mission," Green said.
"So, what do you think? Interested?"
While Jane Foster and the others were still thinking, Thorwas already nodding. He was stuffing corn chips into his mouth, crunching loudly and spitting out crumbs.
"Yeah! Five minutes is enough. We can do it."
Louis rolled her eyes again.
Wait, is it really that hasty?
Setting aside why they happened to have similar goals, don't you find it suspicious that they just happened to run into us here?
"Is your brain full of Corona beer?" she couldn't help but complain.
As soon as the words left her mouth, she was met with Foster's stern gaze.
"Sister, love has made you blind."
Louis shrugged her shoulders and took a gulp from the glass in front of her. Forget it, it was none of her business.
"We'll consider it," Erik nodded.
"Heh, good."
Green turned his head back. Laura handed the selected menu to the waitress. The girl took a second look at Green before quickly looking away.
Before long, they stood up with their packed food.
"Call me."
Green pulled out a Nokia phone and placed it on the table, then walked toward the door and pushed it open.
The doorbell chimed softly as the door slowly closed.
The woman in fishnets sitting by the door looked up, her gaze falling outside the window.
Green was walking toward the hotel across the street, the two girls following him on either side like two leaves caught in the wind.
"Looks like there's a lead."
She murmured to herself, turning her head to look at Louis's table.
"Come on, we can trust them, right?"
Thor looked at the silent group, arms spread wide, leaning back against the chair until it tilted.
His gaze circled everyone's face, finally landing on Jane, as if waiting for a word of affirmation.
"This isn't an epic myth where you can just walk out the door and meet a Great Mage who'll help you," Erik said, picking up a fry, dipping it in the sauce at the bottom of the plate, and taking a bite.
"Maybe it is? My luck has always been good," Thor said confidently.
"You should have some sense of crisis, Thor," Foster's voice softened.
"Yeah! You're right." Thor nodded, looking serious for two seconds before breaking into a grin.
"The fact that the beer hasn't finished brewing definitely gives me a sense of crisis."
Foster stared at him for a few seconds, her mouth twitching, before she finally couldn't help but shake her head with a smile.
"You stubborn, foolish boy. It's hard to imagine you told me you're over a thousand years old."
"Their identities are indeed real."
Louis's voice cut in. While they were talking, she had already looked up Green and the others. She turned the tablet around to show them the information she found.
"We only have two choices now: barge in, or cooperate with them and let them distract the guards in the base. I think that's their plan too."
"Of course, we have a third choice: buy some local souvenirs and call it a trip."
"No!"
They all spoke in unison, with Thor shouting the loudest.
"I want to go home," he said decisively.
"We must explore the unknown. I know you're curious too," Erik said, becoming uncharacteristically serious.
"We have to help him, Darcy."
Foster looked at Louis, her gaze earnest.
Perhaps it was her education and the astrophysics knowledge she took pride in; she always viewed this man who fell from the sky through a maternal lens. She wanted to be responsible for him and verify his origins.
Louis looked at her 'good teammates,' her eyes gradually turning into dead-fish eyes.
"...Fuck."
Inside the hotel,
Green sat leaning against the foot of the bed, forearms on his knees, fingers pinching a soda can. The aluminum wall was warmed by his body temperature, and water droplets seeped from the bottom, soaking a small patch of his pants.
He looked at the cumulonimbus rain clouds in the sky outside the window. That patch of sky was a heavy gray, with brilliant white light leaking through the gaps in the clouds.
"Is that really a god? He looks like a giant baby." Laura sat leaning against the headboard, a Sudoku book resting on her smooth knees and a pencil between her fingers, not looking up.
"Didn't you try that hammer? It was originally his weapon."
Green said indifferently. When they arrived, they had landed at the base first. Both girls had curiously tried to tug at it.
"Lorna couldn't pick it up either, could she?" Laura said, annoyed.
"Hehe, it's a problem with the hammer, not me."
Lorna, sitting on the windowsill, swung her legs, ankles crossed. A coin moved between her fingers—a habit she used to hone her control. She wasn't one to blame herself for things out of her control.
"Pity." She lowered her eyes.
"I can't lift metal of that material. Otherwise, using it to hit people would definitely be a massive weapon."
She had cheated when she tried the hammer, but with her current magnetic field manipulation strength, she couldn't lift it at all.
She looked at Green, who was silently watching the clouds.
"Aren't you going to try, Green?"
Laura also looked at the back of Green's head, at that messy black spiky hair.
"That hammer isn't for arrogant people. Unfortunately, I haven't learned humility." Green finished and took a sip of his drink.
"Hmph." Lorna was helpless against this guy. The corners of her mouth curled down, but a smile was hidden in her eyes.
"But I don't secretly install cameras like some people," Green continued.
He had found those two cameras, not expecting there to be another one in the bedroom.
The two girls froze. Lorna's coin lost its magnetism and slipped from her fingers, but she caught it with a quick hand.
"It was her!" The two girls pointed at each other without a moment's hesitation, then got annoyed by the other's reaction and glared at each other.
"Was it good?" Green chuckled.
"You talk too much!" Laura lunged forward in a familiar embrace, hanging her entire weight on Green's head.
"Exactly!" Lorna walked barefoot to Green, leaning into his chest and pinching his mouth with her fingers.
"If it weren't for that, I wouldn't have known you took Gwen's mom..."
"What's wrong? Wasn't it good?" Green held Lorna and took another sip of beer, the can clicking near her ear.
"Gwen won't like you doing that," Lorna sighed.
"But you'll be tolerant of me, won't you?" Green's voice leaked through her pinched fingers, muffled but carrying a hint of a smile.
"Gwen will too." That's right, Scumbag Green was very much a scumbag.
"Be serious!" Lorna felt a bit poked by where she was sitting and gave it a frustrated slap.
"You need to understand who is most important to you." She pressed both hands against the sides of Green's cheeks, squishing his face out of shape.
She stared straight at him, her eyes filled with undisguised possessiveness.
"What she said is what I want to say too." Laura popped out her claws and pressed them against Green's neck, her voice dropping lower.
"You can play, but you can't overdo it!"
She didn't care about ethics or morality; what she wanted was a place in Green's heart.
"You are ours!" Lorna emphasized.
"Ah, ah~ I get it."
Green tilted his head back slightly, exposing his neck to her. The tips of the claws sank in a little and then retracted, leaving a shallow bloodstain. His mouth, however, spread into a pleasant grin.
"You girls have really grown up."
Chapter 115: Leading the Target into the Trap
Night fell.
The base.
Torrential rain poured down from the sky, hammering against the tin roof. The daytime heat, dampened by the cold water, rose from the ground as steam, mingling with the scent of earth.
Under the cover of the rain, a van rolled across the muddy ground, its tires grinding into potholes and splashing up yellow water.
The headlights were off; only a faint glimmer from the dashboard flickered across several faces, casting them in shifting shadows.
The van stopped far outside the range of the base's searchlights, and the door opened.
Green stepped out, his boots sinking into the mud. Rain pelted his shoulders, streaming down his waterproof cloak.
He stood by the van, letting the rain drench him as he glanced toward the base. The lights, towers, and barbed wire blurred into a mass of shadows in the downpour.
"You know we trust you, right?" Erik said to Green before they set off.
"Our goals don't conflict, and there's no reason to frame you."
"I guarantee it with my years of experience and honor in the FBI," Green said in a low voice, turning his head.
As if the word "honor" had triggered some sort of switch, Thor's eyes lit up, and he chimed in.
"I believe you!"
Hearing the answer he wanted, Erik nodded with satisfaction.
"See you in a bit," Foster said with a smile, her tone sounding reassured, indicating her trust.
"Of course. Perhaps even sooner than you expect," Green replied with a meaningful smile.
"My informant inside the base has already disabled the perimeter cameras and the electric fence. Let's move quickly."
Everyone nodded. Jane pulled up the hood of her windbreaker and tightened the drawstring, tucking her chin into the collar.
Erik tucked his laptop under his arm, while Thor stretched his shoulders.
Foster, Erik, and Lorna formed one team to go shut off the power switch.
Louis and Laura stayed in the van as backup—essentially the getaway drivers. Indeed, the engine hadn't been turned off, humming lowly as the chassis vibrated slightly.
"I thought you were a field Agent," Louis said, looking at Laura, who was leaning comfortably against the armrest of the van's seat.
"Don't be fooled by my muscles; I'm actually quite frail." Laura patted her upper arm. Having spent so much time with Green, she had gradually picked up his manner of speaking.
"Heh, hehe, is that so?"
Louis turned back with a fake smile; she didn't believe a word of it!
The wipers swept back and forth across the windshield, clearing a fan-shaped patch of water only for it to be covered again by new rain.
Vaguely, Louis saw a tall, thin figure running toward the base from not far away. The person was hunched over, taking large strides at a very high speed, practically zipping past the front of the van.
"What?" She blinked, leaning her head forward.
Wait, are there others on the same job?!
Time slipped away anxiously.
Green led Thor through a gap in the barbed wire, successfully infiltrating the base using highly "professional" stealth techniques.
Calling it stealth was a stretch; it was really just climbing over the wall during the intervals when the searchlights swept past.
While climbing, Thor slipped on a brick and hung from the barbed wire, swaying twice before hitting the ground. The noise was so loud that Green didn't even want to look back.
Not long after, the lights in the base clicked off. The sound was crisp, like someone switching off a desk lamp.
Immediately following, the entire camp went dark.
"What's going on?! Who cut the power?!"
"Where's the backup power? Start the backup generator!"
"We can't reach the control room! Communications are down too!"
The guards inside the base shouted and ran about. Beams of flashlights were switched on one by one, darting through the rain like a swarm of headless flies.
"Looks like they succeeded. Let's go." Green dragged Thorout from under a truck's chassis.
A shallow puddle of muddy water had already collected under the truck. Thor's back was completely soaked, the fabric clinging to his skin, but he didn't care.
"I will remember your help," Thor said with a nod.
Green didn't respond. He gave Thor's arm a smiling pat and vanished into the curtain of rain.
Thor took a deep breath, hunched his back, and like a shifty-eyed large dog, jogged along the gap between the truck's front and the barbed wire.
He soon entered a corridor made of waterproof tarps. The fabric curtains billowed in the wind, slapping against the iron frames with a loud snap.
It went smoothly; he managed to bypass the guards on duty along the way.
Those figures flickered on the other side of the curtains. The sounds of footsteps, voices, and the static of walkie-talkies were muffled by the layer of fabric, sounding as if they were underwater.
Seeing he was almost there, he suddenly had a "bright" idea. He decided to be clever and cautiously took a detour, circling around through a darker area for safety.
And then he ran right into two S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents who were eating bread and drinking water.
"Eh?"
One of the Agents had a mouthful of bread, his mouth slightly open and cheeks bulging. His expression was initially blank, then quickly contorted.
Wait, wouldn't it have been fine if you just walked past? Why the hell did you come over to our side!
He swallowed hard, the breadcrumbs getting caught in his throat, making him gag for a moment.
He remembered his new boss's specific instructions: let the guy in to take the item, but don't make it look too easy. There had to be a process; they had to follow the routine.
Now, how was this supposed to work?
He exchanged a look with his companion, their eyebrows and eyes engaging in a silent dialogue.
"Can we pretend we accidentally choked and passed out from lack of oxygen?"
"Won't that become a legendary fail? We'll be laughed to death!"
"I remember you've been eyeing that vintage car for a long time, right? Don't want the bonus anymore?"
"Good point!"
The two settled it with their eyes and turned back.
Then they found the big oaf across from them panting heavily, his eyes filled with determination.
"Wait, what's with that determined look in your eyes?!"
"Just two weak Mid... Earthlings."
He nodded, as if confirming his own judgment. Two against one—the advantage was his!
"Don't just start talking to yourself, hey!" The two Agents felt miserable.
"For the glory of the Northern God!!" Thor roared and lunged forward.
"Don't come over here!!" The two Agents put on masks of agony.
It was over; they could already see their bonuses flying away.
"Hiss—"
In the monitoring room, Green slapped his forehead in frustration.
On the screen, Thor was being given back-to-back over-the-shoulder throws by the two angry Agents, getting slammed like a string of firecrackers.
Seriously, how does a guy who only fights with brute force expect to trade blows with official Agents who stood out from a pool of candidates?
As for why the cameras were still working, it was because the power hadn't been cut at all; the lights had just been turned off manually.
"Didn't you tell him that S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents are very good fighters?" Green turned his swivel chair toward the people behind him.
Lorna leaned against the back of a chair, watching Fosterand Erik with him. They were kneeling on the floor, their hands tied behind their backs with wire.
Lorna had snatched the wire from behind the base's distribution box. It was tied tightly, but hadn't broken the skin.
"We didn't know you had this identity either," Foster said with a bitter smile.
"Now you do," Green said, shrugging.
"Maybe we could have some fruit tea and find a way to resolve this," Erik tried to save the situation.
"No, I don't want to resolve it." Green curled his lip and shook his head, glancing at Lorna.
Lorna understood, took out her phone from her pocket, and dialed a number.
Inside the van.
Louis tapped the steering wheel, her knuckles clicking against the plastic shell as she tried to vent her anxiety.
Suddenly, through the rearview mirror, she saw Lauraanswer the phone. The phone was pressed to her ear, the screen's light casting a cold glow on her face.
She listened, her gaze slowly shifting over.
"Something's wrong!"
Louis quickly looked away, a premonition of doom welling up in her heart.
She instinctively lowered her hand, quietly reaching for the Taser hidden in the gap of the seat.
Claws slowly extended from between Laura's knuckles.
The sound was very faint—a metallic hiss like a snake's tongue amidst the rain and the engine's hum.
She looked at Louis with a half-smile.
"You can try," she said, brandishing her Claws.
"Green didn't say I had to keep you alive."
Louis's mouth twitched. She very submissively raised her hands and turned around, forcing a flattering smile that wrinkled the corners of her eyes.
"Heh, hehe... just a little stress response."
"You guys... you should have a policy for the preferential treatment of prisoners, right?"