For a moment, Blaine came to a stop.
"Haha, got you…"
But Blaine didn't even acknowledge him. Instead, he calmly took out his phone and made a call right in front of him.
"Hey, mission complete. Do you want the head or just—yeah, okay…"
After hanging up, Blaine snapped a few photos of Electro and sent them to Fury. Moments later, the message vanished from his screen.
"I—I—I—"
Electro stammered, but then froze. Something felt wrong. Looking down, he saw an arrow embedded deep in his abdomen. From the point of impact, a circle of black corrosion spread rapidly outward, devouring flesh as a sickly stench rose. His eyes widened in horror before his body crumpled to the ground.
Earlier, while circling around the Electro, Blaine had already drawn his bow, notched an arrow, and fired. To prevent any chance of failure, he had coated the arrowhead with a drop of curse poison—extracted from the +10 Cursed Blood Knife itself. The poison was colorless and odorless. All of Blaine's movements had been so fast that the Electro never noticed.
Even when the arrow pierced him, the paralysis from the poison numbed the pain. He hadn't realized he was dying until it was too late.
By ten that evening, Blaine had already returned to his villa.
"It's overloaded… pushing for that kind of speed is still a bit too much for my current body," he muttered, soaking in a warm bath and massaging his numb legs.
He wasn't wrong. Blaine was still only at one-eighth of a divine body, but with a physique rating of 325, he could already touch the speed threshold—a feat few could achieve. Still, without a full divine body, such velocity came with drawbacks. He couldn't yet break through the barrier completely, and the aftereffects on his body were severe.
It was like forcing a sedentary person to sprint a kilometer—fine during the run, but afterward, the lactic acid would lock up every muscle, leaving him clinging to walls just to move.
That was Blaine's condition now. But thanks to his divine-grade self-healing and the comfort of hot water, the numbness faded quickly.
"Three minutes running, thirty seconds fighting…" he sighed.
On the way back, he hadn't gone full speed. The rush was intoxicating, but he didn't want to collapse into bed, unable to move.
The next day marked the ninth day since the system upgrade.
At eight in the morning, Blaine was snoring loudly.
At noon, he was still asleep.
At two in the afternoon—still in bed.
Finally, at six in the evening, he woke up.
By nine, freshly washed but sluggish, he slumped on the couch.
"Ugh, what's going on… why am I still so tired?" Blaine yawned and stretched, eyelids heavy.
"Can't sleep anymore. No, seriously—can't. I'm a Bounty Hunter, not some lazy bum!"
He quickly ran through a few sets of combat drills, movements sharp and precise, trying to shake off the drowsiness.
Grrr—
His stomach growled. Too lazy to go out, he ordered pizza instead and turned on the TV.
The news was uneventful—reports about Kingpin, Bounty Hunters taking down crooks, someone being dubbed "the Asgardian of Earth," and other tabloid nonsense.
After finishing his food, Blaine once again succumbed to the "law of true fragrance" and passed out in bed.
"Hmm… the money come through yet?"
Blaine woke up to the sound of a notification.
"Huh? Still not in the account? Wait—could it be? Oh… the exciting part's here…"
Instantly alert, he jumped out of bed.
"Open system."
"Welcome to Hunter System Version 2.0. This update includes—"
"Holy—! What the—hell—"
Blaine froze, eyes wide. The new interface was stunning—a complete transformation. It looked straight out of a Stark Industries lab.
Gone was the old monochrome layout and dull menus. Now, the display gleamed with color and depth. The interface was fully touch-responsive—like Tony's J.A.R.V.I.S. console.
Each weapon could be virtually tested before purchase through a hyper-realistic simulation, more immersive than any VR. The tactile feedback even mimicked metal texture. Every skill came with a holographic enemy demonstration to visualize its use—clear, direct, and brilliantly executed.
If the old version had been a clunky Nokia, this was a next-gen super-intelligent system.
Blaine scrolled through, his eyes gleaming.
The Weapons tab had everything—from knives, guns, and blunt weapons to modern and alien tech. Each item had detailed specs, descriptions, and prices, even searchable categories.
The Skills tab had been overhauled too—listing body combat, augmentations, enhancements, elemental powers, and even cosmic-tier techniques.
There were Suit options—jackets, pants, boots, gloves, hats, even underwear.
But the biggest addition was the Consumables section. Items like [Hundred Poison Immunity Pill 1.0], [Strengthening Serum], and [Tracking Paper Crane] could now be bought directly without scouring the entire store.
The Recovery section had also expanded: weapons, equipment, skills, and even magic could now be recycled. Recovered abilities could be exchanged for lower-tier ones in the discount area.
Seeing that, a mischievous thought crossed Blaine's mind.
If skills and magic could be recycled—and since his Copy Eyes allowed him to replicate others' abilities infinitely—then theoretically, Blaine could turn himself into a walking ATM.
His copied magic might still be basic, but quantity had its own kind of power.
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