Wolverine stared, horrified, as a chilling thought crossed his mind.
The next second, Maguire's right hand reached out again toward the howling Sabretooth.
Green light flickered once more.
In an instant, Sabretooth's terrible wounds vanished.
A fist slammed into him. Another howl. Another flash of green.
Over and over.
The light pulsed, the screams echoed endlessly.
Even Wolverine, who had killed countless times, felt a cold dread pierce his bones.
"Too brutal… this guy's terrifying. Of all people to mess with, not him…"
He wanted to stop it, but reason held him back. If he wasn't even on par with adamantium-laced Sabretooth, then against Maguire—who treated Sabretooth like an insect—he wouldn't stand a chance.
…
Minutes later.
Sabretooth just stared blankly at Maguire.
The defiance in his eyes was gone, replaced by boundless fear.
In his mind, Maguire wasn't human at all. He was a demon from the abyss. A pure bully.
Then, Maguire's system chimed in:
\[Congratulations, Host has gained 50 Bully Points.
Plot character bonus: 25 points.
Current total: 100 Bully Points.]
Finally, Maguire understood.
Bully Points came not from killing, but from cruelty—forcing others into absolute terror.
…
He looked down coldly at Sabretooth.
"Well? Want more?"
Sabretooth shook violently, swearing it was the most terrifying sound he'd ever heard.
But Maguire had lost interest.
He stood, flipped his hand, and a cigar appeared.
Lighting it, he turned and walked away.
…
As soon as he left, Sabretooth collapsed, trembling, consumed by fear.
Wolverine only sighed, then left in silence.
…
Ten minutes later.
Maguire was back home.
…
The next morning, his phone rang, waking him from sleep.
He picked it up, frowning.
"Garfield? What does he want?"
He answered. Garfield's voice came through.
"Maguire, where are you? Holland invited us both to his house. He specifically told me to bring you. There are things we need to discuss."
Maguire sighed.
"Fine. Hope you two won't bore me too much. Stay home, I'll pick you up."
After hanging up, he washed up, then drove his Bentley to Garfield's place.
…
Soon he arrived. Garfield was waiting at the door with a suitcase in hand.
When he saw the luxury car pull up, his face twisted in confusion.
"Who the hell drives a car like that into our neighborhood?"
The Bentley stopped before him.
Garfield's eyes nearly popped when the window slid down to reveal Maguire.
"Maguire? This car… it's yours?"
Not in the mood to explain, Maguire said flatly,
"Get in. What's with the suitcase?"
Garfield smiled mysteriously.
"You'll see soon enough."
Then they drove off toward Holland's house.
…
It wasn't far. Within minutes, they were at the door.
The house looked much like Maguire's own.
They rang the bell.
A mature woman's voice came from inside.
"Just a moment."
The door opened.
A stunning woman in a fitted blue sweater appeared before them.
She looked to be in her thirties—graceful, radiant. Her skin was flawless, her figure striking, her eyes bright and full of a mature charm no schoolgirl could compare to.
She radiated warmth, like sunlight in winter—comforting, not blinding.
Maguire froze, inwardly cursing.
"Why is my Aunt May a sweet old granny, but Holland's Aunt May is a goddess? This isn't fair! I protest. Then again… maybe it's a good thing. Luckily, she's not my aunt."
…
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