American Comic: Feeding the Wolf Girl, Why is She Clinging to Me?
Chapter 1: The Madman
Give me your brain, I'll help you swap it for a better one,
Ghost Brain, activate!!
The car is moving fast, please fasten your seatbelt,
Kids, don't overthink it; this is something only adults understand,
...
Kunar, Afghanistan,
The sun was fierce, and dust drifted through the dry air,
Among the yellowish buildings, civilians wrapped in turbans with pistols at their waists moved through the noisy marketplace to do their shopping,
On the second-floor balcony of an earthen building, a withered cactus sat by the railing,
A burnt-out cigarette was stubbed out and casually flicked away, tracing an imperceptible arc through the scorching air before falling into the swarming heads below,
A moment later, a cry of pain and cursing drifted up from below,
Some lucky fellow's turban had been set ablaze by the cigarette butt,
He raised his hands high, shouting angrily in the local dialect, but to onlookers, the posture looked like some sort of impassioned proclamation, even carrying a hint of fanatical 'Long Live the Holy Father' fervor,
And so, the misunderstanding occurred,
The next moment, gunfire suddenly erupted, a 'da-da-da-da' that lasted for about half a minute,
Afterward, peace was restored once more,
"Oh my, why are they setting off firecrackers so early in the morning?"
The culprit, Green, reclined on a balcony lounge chair, his handsome and cold face showing not a shred of guilt, but rather a playful look as if he hadn't heard enough,
He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of floral boxers, soaking in a natural sunbath,
A sharp scar slashed down from the corner of his lip, adding a touch of irresistible hardness to his features,
Perfect serratus anterior muscles rose and fell with his breath alongside abdominal muscles lightly beaded with sweat,
He was Green Morgan, a 'Three-Good Youth' of 21st-century Blue Star—good for money, good for lust, and good for fun; he had no vices except for studying,
Now it was much the same: good for money, good for lust, and good for killing; everything was a vice except for studying,
When he came to this World, he brought a [Template System] with him,
His initial template was [tyrant of heaven]; killing living beings increased his height, and killing the strong increased it even more,
He had no aversion to killing; the first person he slaughtered was the truck driver who sent him to this World,
He took a giant leap, his body splattering across the entire windshield to block the driver's vision, and the truck smashed through the guardrail and fell into the sea—an ultimate one-for-one trade,
He hadn't enjoyed much good treatment upon arriving in this World either; an abandoned Asian child, he was already in the 'kill zone' as soon as he entered the orphanage,
If his heart hadn't been ruthless enough and his blade fast enough, he probably would have ended up reporting to Epstein Island; everyone he met along the way afterward was a 'benefactor' whom he slaughtered for experience points, which was how he had survived until now,
Nowadays, he was something of a freelancer, taking on any job,
Case in point, S.H.I.E.L.D. had sent a'Save Private Stark' mission, and he had also conveniently accepted the 'Kill Stark' bounty issued by Stane, waiting to see which side would offer a higher price,
Beep, beep,
At that moment, the communicator on the table rang,
Green picked it up and pressed answer,
"This is Nick Fury. Have you found Tony Stark's specific location?"
"There are more warlords here than condoms on your nightstand; I have to check them one by one."
"...As soon as possible." The other side hung up unilaterally,
"As soon as your mother's possible."
Green sneered and closed his fist; the communicator shattered with a 'crack,' its components scattering across the table,
His handler was Hill, not that braised egg; did they think anyone who got hold of the communicator could command him?
Just then, a shout came from downstairs,
Green knew the time had come,
He stood up, opened the door, and leaned down to squeeze through the narrow doorframe,
On the large bed in the bedroom lay several beauties with fine figures, naked and only half-covered by thin quilts, their skin glowing with a healthy wheat-colored sheen under the sunlight; clearly, last night's exertion had been significant,
He hadn't called for them; they were gifts from the Ten Rings Gang for the buyer, Mike Thompson,
Mike Thompson was the fake identity he was using this time; it had taken some effort to contact the Ten Rings Gang, but they had too many strongholds, and he was too lazy to search them one by one and didn't want to alert them,
So he simply enjoyed himself, waiting for the other party to lose patience and contact him proactively,
"I've really sacrificed too much for America," the patriotic Green lamented,
Tony Stark was a major American taxpayer; saving him was equivalent to saving America—the logic was sound,
He took out spare clothes from his duffel bag and changed; what remained in the bag was a full load of US dollars,
He zipped it up, weighed it, and then picked it up and headed downstairs without a trace of lingering attachment,
A convoy of several vehicles was parked on the road at the entrance, with over a dozen armed members scattered around,
He casually tossed the bag of money to one of them, while another opened the rear car door,
A black cloth hood was pulled over his head, and he was stuffed into the car,
The car door closed, and the convoy slowly set off,
He felt the bumps of the ground and silently counted the time in his head,
About an hour or so later, the vehicle stopped,
The door opened, and he was hauled out of the car by two men,
The black cloth was pulled off, and the piercing, vicious sunlight made him squint,
Surrounding him was a desolate valley, scattered with a large amount of heavy weaponry marked with the 'Stark Industries' logo, and over a hundred militants stood watch with guns, their muzzles vaguely pointed at him,
In less than two hours, the drop from a den of pleasure to a criminal hideout was something most people couldn't bear, and they might even panic and lose their composure,
But Green did not,
"Fuck, did someone use this cloth over my head to wipe their ass?" he cursed unpleasantly,
"Shut up!" one member shouted, raising his gun,
"What?" Green grinned and glanced sideways at the approaching chief,
"Do your subordinates speak without using their brains? Or have they taken too many drugs?"
The chief didn't respond, only giving a look,
A member stepped forward holding Green's duffel bag and pulled open the zipper,
He looked down, and his face was instantly covered in smiles,
"Hahaha... Dear Mike, don't be angry."
He stepped forward and patted Green's shoulder, not even looking at the gun-wielding member who had tried to show off,
"B... Boss?" The man sensed the atmosphere was wrong, lowered his gun, and looked at his companions in confusion,
Bang, bang, bang!
Several bursts of bullets instantly turned him into a sieve,
The body was then dragged away and tossed aside,
"Those girls last night were pretty good, weren't they?" The chief put his arm around him affectionately,
But with Green's height of 1.95 meters and his natural posture as if he were back in his own backyard, the chief, who had to stand on his tiptoes to put an arm around Green's shoulder, seemed more like a fawning lackey,
"Very moist!" Green said without reservation,
"That's good!" The chief laughed loudly, and the two of them walked into the cave side-by-side like brothers of many years, shamelessly chatting about dirty jokes,
Of course, all of this was predicated on the fact that Green had revealed during their previous contact that he knew Tony Stark was in their hands, and that he had come without any weapons, carrying only that bag of money,
Otherwise, he would probably have been hung up and dried into a human jerky after interrogation by now,
Sincerity and courage—he lacked neither,
No warlord would refuse such a businessman,
Deep inside the cave, Tony Stark was shirtless, sweating profusely as he hammered away at an anvil,
A piece of red-hot iron was gradually taking shape under his hammer, vaguely resembling the outline of a mask,
He picked up the mask with tongs and dipped it into cold water; there was a 'hiss' as white steam billowed up,
At that moment, the balding Dr. Ethan rushed in, frantically pulling a tarp to cover certain parts as soon as he entered,
"What's wrong, Ethan?" Tony was confused, but he also stepped forward to help,
"The chief is coming over with a young man, and seeing the chief's fawning attitude... I suspect it's the true leader of the Ten Rings Gang," Ethan whispered, speaking very quickly,
"Shit." Tony didn't dare to be slow and immediately quickened his movements,
In less than two minutes, Green and the chief walked in, followed by several armed guards,
"What are you doing?" The chief's eyes darkened, and he looked suspiciously at the two men, who were covered in sweat and moving hastily,
"Maybe we've interrupted their 'good time'," Green laughed from the side, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes,
"Oh ho ho ho... So Tony Stark is into that too?" The chief realized and silently backed away two steps,
Tony Stark was also observing Green,
Ethan said he was the 'leader,' but Tony was more inclined to think he was a 'buyer,'
Yet at first glance, he felt that Ethan might be right,
A burly, lean physique, a black tight-fitting short-sleeved shirt, loose white trousers, habitually standing in the shadows that the dim electric light couldn't reach, eyes narrowed—like a lurking wolf,
Tony noticed that since the man entered, his gaze had swept over Tony's neck, heart, and other vital points no less than four times,
"How about it? The order you want will be finished soon. My credibility is good enough, right?"
The chief turned his head; he had let Green in because he wanted to tie the other party to the same boat as himself; Tony Stark's value was too high, and he didn't believe the people behind the other party's faction wouldn't be tempted,
"Of course it's good," Green said, reaching out and placing his hand on top of the chief's head,
"Now that they're here, I can rest easy."
The chief was just wondering about the gesture when his neck bone suddenly made a crisp sound, like a bottle cap being opened,
His head was twisted a full circle,
In his final moment, he saw his own back and the horrified faces of his subordinates.
Chapter 2: Tony's Miserable Day
"What's the matter? Never seen a dead person before?"
Green leaned over and whispered into Big Boss's ear. Under the dim light, his eyes seemed veiled by a layer of black lines, carrying a playful chill.
"Look at your subordinates. All he did was turn his head, right? And yet they're scared witless."
"Ugh... ugh..." Big Boss wasn't quite dead yet. His eyeballs bulged, bloodshot, and his tongue lolled out as he made a futile attempt to breathe, but his neck had already been twisted into a gruesome braid.
"Anyway, thanks for being so 'open' with me. I appreciate it, but you're useless now." Green tossed him aside casually.
Big Boss fell to his knees, his head hanging limply against his back, his face staring directly at the terrified Tony Starkand Ethan.
Several subordinates shouted curses, trying to summon their courage as they raised their gun barrels.
Thud, thud, thud!
But it wasn't gunfire that rang out; it was the dull sound of Green's knife-hand piercing the air and penetrating skulls.
"Don't be afraid, I'm here to save you."
Green turned his head, offering Tony and Ethan what he considered a gentle smile, while simultaneously pulling his hand out of a hideous bloody hole and tossing away the brain matter.
A Cursed Spirit resembling a Human-headed Earthwormemerged from the void behind him, coiling around his upper body.
When humans are on the brink of death, or when their emotions suffer an extreme shock similar to 'death,' it's possible to glimpse the outline of a Cursed Spirit, or even see its specific form clearly.
This grotesque and terrifying scene, far beyond common sense, crushed Dr. Ethan's already strained psychological defenses.
"Ah! Mmph..." He screamed in terror, only to have his mouth clamped shut by Tony a moment later.
"Shut up!"
Tony growled low. His face was equally pale, but his eyes were fixed on Green, forcing himself to remain calm.
"Which government department are you from?"
"I'm from none of them." Green raised his hand, and the Cursed Spirit 'ugly treasure' coiled around him opened its mouth to vomit out the Inverted Spear of Heaven, which looked like a Jitte-style Wakizashi short sword.
"I'm just a temp."
He twirled the blade in the air, switching it to his left hand, while his right hand scooped up an AK from the ground. A sinister grin spread across his face.
"Are you planning to stay here and sell your asses, or are you coming with me, huh?"
Before his voice finished echoing, his body moved. With a 'bang,' only an afterimage remained where he stood. His speed was so fast it almost exceeded the limits of visual and cerebral processing.
The sudden explosion of air pressure forced Tony and Ethan to instinctively close their eyes.
In the next moment, shrill screams and the sound of crossfire erupted within the corridor.
"Hurry! We have to seize this chance!"
Tony grabbed the dazed Ethan and rushed to the tub of still-warm water, reaching in to fish out the grey iron mask submerged at the bottom.
Then, he strode to Big Boss's corpse, suppressed his discomfort to pull the pistol from the man's waist, and turned to run out.
Only to find Ethan still standing there like an idiot.
"Ethan!" he roared, running back and slapping the man across the face.
"Ah? But the armor..." Ethan finally snapped out of it.
"We don't have time! Follow me!" Tony stared into his eyes, his tone brooks no argument.
"OK, OK." Ethan nodded blankly, his weak legs moving to follow Tony, picking up a rifle from the ground along the way.
The two of them hugged the wall and rushed into the corridor.
Then, they froze.
The corridor was filled with severed limbs and broken arms. The electric lights were stained with blood, flickering intermittently.
Long, narrow bloodstains were left on the walls, slowly trickling downward.
Looking closely, the expressions on the scattered heads were frozen in moments of ferocity or bewilderment, indicating the attacker had severed their necks in an incredibly short amount of time.
"Bleh..." Ethan suddenly doubled over and vomited.
"Go, get out." Tony covered his mouth, suppressing the surge in his throat, and dragged Ethan into a sprint forward.
The further they ran toward the exit, the sparser the gunfire became, and the more anxious their hearts grew.
Because their brains instinctively categorized both sides of the conflict as the same kind of monster; no matter who won, it didn't seem like there would be a good end for them.
By the time they reached the corridor entrance, the gunfire had stopped.
Once their eyes adjusted to the difference in light, they looked at the mess of corpses everywhere, and shock couldn't help but well up in their hearts.
Green stood amidst the pile of remains, thick blood slowly dripping from the Wakizashi in his hand, while he nonchalantly chewed on a piece of sausage he'd found somewhere.
He pulled out his phone to record the coordinates of this place, then looked up at the two of them.
The weapons here weren't worth much, but the prototype armor Tony Stark left behind was a different story; he knew a few good clients for that.
"You're out. Let's go then." He tucked his phone back into his pocket and flicked the blade.
The blood from the blade splattered onto the face of a corpse at his feet. Those wide-staring eyes were covered in red, gradually blurring into a dark crimson.
Meanwhile, he acted as if he had just been here on vacation, casually inviting his companions to head back.
"Go? Where?"
To be honest, if Green had said they were going to hell, Tony would have believed him. He didn't even notice his own voice was trembling.
"Back to your Villa for a party, obviously. Or did you get kidnapped into developing Stockholm Syndrome?"
Green picked up his retrieved duffel bag and walked off. He found a pickup truck with the keys still in it and turned the ignition.
The engine roared to life.
Tony took a deep breath and stepped toward Green.
"Tony..." Ethan grabbed his arm hesitantly.
"We have no choice, Ethan," Tony said in a low voice.
Hearing this, Ethan let go and followed behind him, tossing his gun away as well. He couldn't win a fight anyway.
Green turned the truck around.
Tony sat in the passenger seat, while Ethan climbed into the truck bed; he didn't dare sit next to Green.
Green floored the gas, and the pickup truck shot out.
Tony watched the shrinking Ten Rings Gang base in the rearview mirror, feeling somewhat dazed.
These past days had been the hardest time of his life. He had even prepared himself for a desperate final struggle.
But now... he was out just like that? Just that easily?
That was it?
But it was good. Ethan was still here, and he was alive.
Thinking of this, a surge of relief from surviving the ordeal welled up in his heart, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up.
Puchi!
Suddenly, Tony felt a cold sensation in his abdomen.
The sensation of a hard object stabbing into his body was clearly transmitted back to his brain by his nerves, followed by a tearing, sharp pain.
He looked down to see half the blade of a Wakizashiburied in his stomach, blood slowly soaking through.
The person holding the hilt was none other than Green beside him.
"What?" Tony's expression was one of pure bewilderment.
"It just slipped in by accident. Does it hurt?" Green asked with a face full of concern.
"What can I say?" Tony really wanted to grab him by the collar and spit a mouthful of bloody saliva in his face.
Does it hurt? Why don't you try it yourself!
But the loss of blood seemed to drain all the strength from his body. His torso leaned against the seat back, sliding down uncontrollably.
"Why?" His limbs began to go numb.
"Because someone paid for your life," Green answered honestly.
"I... have more money."
"That's why I rescued you."
"Then why... kill me..."
"Because someone paid for your life."
"You..." Tony's lips were also numb, his voice weakening.
This wicked guy was clearly just toying with him.
He didn't understand, he didn't comprehend, but mostly he felt unwilling. Was he really going to die in such an absurd way?
"Hmm? Looks like the Forest Cobra venom is taking effect." Green reached out and pressed his hand against Tony's carotid artery, confirming the pulse had become weak.
Then, he pulled out his phone, opened the camera app, held it high, and leaned his body toward Tony.
The two of them were in the frame together: one with a pale face and unfocused eyes, the other smiling brightly.
"Cheese."
Click!
The photo was captured.
"Done." Green clicked to confirm the send.
Then, he pulled the knife out of Tony's abdomen. There was very little bleeding; he had avoided vital organs, and it wasn't a through-and-through wound.
Next, he fished a mini spray bottle from his pocket and sprayed it several times on the wound.
A white foam quickly adhered and bonded, completely stopping the bleeding.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. tech really isn't bad." He casually tossed the empty spray bottle away; it was a one-time-use item.
Then, he propped Tony's body up and fastened the seatbelt.
Next, as if sensing something, he turned his head and looked through the rear window over the seat back. Ethanwas staring with wide eyes, watching him with a face full of terror.
"Oops, I've been spotted." Green grinned.
His narrow eyes and sharp-angled profile, framed by the dim light inside the car and the swirling dust, looked like a literal demon in Ethan's eyes.
And then... it was his turn.
Chapter 3: Transfer
Stark Industries Tower, 43rd-floor Boardroom,
Golden sunlight spilled into the spacious room like gold leaf,
"Osborn's Second-generation Glider, the basic flight platform has been perfected, with modular weapon interfaces and low-altitude urban penetration capabilities,"
"and their boasted 'Adaptive Stealth Coating,' though I suspect it draws from some of our public satellite coating technologies,"
"but the other party has already undergone a second inspection with the government, and a major Military order is about to land. We must make a decision as soon as possible."
Stan said slowly, sitting in the first seat on the left. Only a few people were present at the meeting.
"But an acquisition across weapon fields like this carries too high a risk. We need Tony's decision-making authority and his mind."
William Gibbs, Director of Technical Security and Confidentiality, raised an objection.
"Come on, man, this is a guaranteed profit. Anyone with eyes can see it. Tony's life or death is currently unknown. Is the whole company supposed to wait for him to finish getting laid before he comes back to be the conductor?"
Stan's pen tapped lightly against the tabletop.
"I reserve my opinion," William said, spreading his hands. Others followed suit.
"Tsk."
Stan's eyes lowered slightly, but as a businessman who had been around for years, he didn't write his dissatisfaction on his face. However, under the reflection of the projection screen's light, his face still appeared somewhat sinister.
Just then, his phone vibrated.
He turned his chair away, pulled out the satellite phone, and after seeing the photo on the screen, his eyes narrowed suddenly. Then, the corners of his mouth curled up, and he relaxed.
"Gentlemen, perhaps we need to look at capitalism more realistically. The market won't wait for us. Either be the house and take a large share, or be a retail investor picking up scraps, not knowing when you'll be kicked out."
He turned back, his tone becoming firm as he was the first to raise his hand. "I favor cooperating with the Osborn Company."
This move surprised the others.
William had just clearly stated his position, yet Stanremained so firm.
With his years of experience, it was impossible for him not to see the situation of the meeting. After all, Tony's death had not yet been confirmed.
But he seemed to have received a message just now.
Could it be...
So, this was a signal.
The Osborn deal was a signal, telling them they had to pick a side.
"I agree," Victoria, the financial director, was the first to raise her hand.
"Very good," Stan smiled.
"I agree as well."
"Agreed."
"Opposed."
"Abstain."
The people in the meeting expressed their stances one after another.
Although a few people remained on the sidelines, Stanknew he had won.
"Then it's settled. If Tony returns, I will explain it to him personally."
Stan casually tossed his pen aside, stood up, and pushed back his chair. He walked to the glass curtain wall, overlooking the city skyline, ambition surging in his eyes as he sneered inwardly.
"If he can even come back."
...
At the airport, heatwaves distorted and surged on the horizon as a pickup truck drove slowly toward the tarmac.
An unmarked transport helicopter was parked ahead, where several people had already been waiting.
Screech!
The vehicle screeched to a halt.
Green rolled down the window, and passionate rock music wafted out from inside the truck.
In the passenger seat, Tony was hooded and slumped in his chair.
"Hi, Mike, was the hunt successful?" the man with the earring leading the group stepped forward.
"None left alive. You can go and sign for the Stark Industries specialties now."
Before coming here, Green had already reached a cooperation agreement with another local warlord. The other party would take over the Ten Rings Gang's stronghold, and in exchange, provide him with money and transport for the return trip.
"Good. Although procedurally I still have to confirm a total death, we're friends." The man snapped his fingers.
A subordinate behind him brought over a case.
"Yeah, friends." Green pushed open the car door and took the case.
"Mmph, mmph..." In the back of the truck, Ethan was tied up tightly, squirming like a maggot.
"Help me move these two up," Green pointed at Ethan and Tony.
"No problem." The man waved his hand. Several subordinates quickly carried the two into the helicopter cabin.
"Then goodbye, friend," the man said.
"We'll see each other, friend," Green replied with a smile, turning to board the helicopter.
The man behind him watched Green's back, his eyes filled with deep wariness.
Leave, just leave already!
How could he not have checked the Ten Rings Gang's stronghold?
From the moment the other party entered until the slaughter was complete, it took less than five minutes.
He knew how heavy the firepower there was; killing chickens wouldn't be this fast, let alone killing people.
A monster like this was better off as far away as possible.
The propellers began to spin, kicking up strong winds as the helicopter slowly took off.
Seeing Green's gaze turn toward him, the man quickly put on a smile again and waved.
Not until the helicopter shrank into a black dot on the horizon did he rub his stiff cheeks; he hadn't smiled like that for too long, and his face was cramping.
But facing such a monster, he could only pretend to be a civilized person.
"What a good friend." On the helicopter, Green sat in a cabin seat, opened the money case, and pulled out a miniature tracking chip from the black cloth lining.
"It's okay, I forgive you." With a twist of his fingers, he crushed the chip and casually reached out of the cabin, the strong airflow instantly sweeping the fragments away without a trace.
He hadn't mentioned the intelligence regarding that prototype.
The other party would likely find out, but it would also take time to figure out what those parts could be assembled into.
After all, when he entered the cave, Tony Stark's armor hadn't been assembled at all. This piece of intelligence could be sold several times over.
"Mmph... mmph..." Ethan's mouth, stuffed with a cloth wad, made muffled sounds.
Green glanced over, closed the money case, leaned forward, and ripped the cloth from his mouth.
"Where on earth are you taking us?!" Ethan shouted.
"I said, I'm taking him back. As for how it happens, it doesn't matter." Green leaned back against the seat, his fingers hooking into the seatbelt, head tilted back as he squinted at Ethan.
"As for you, you should thank me for bringing you along. After all, you're of no use to me."
Ethan's breath hitched, fine sweat breaking out on his balding forehead.
It turned out he was just an optional extra; the other party's target was only Tony.
The joke's on me.
"Then how do you plan to deal with me?" he asked hesitantly.
"Two choices." Green held up two fingers.
"First, I drop you at the border and give you a sum of money. With your skills, it won't be hard to get a fake identity. Go wherever you want."
"Second, follow us. With Tony Stark's personality, you'll get the best treatment in the world. He'll probably satisfy whatever research you want to do with plenty of funding, but you'll also become his weakness."
"Ugh! Saying that gives me goosebumps." Green made a disgusted face.
"I'll take the first one," Ethan said solemnly.
"Oh."
"...Wait, that's it? You're not going to ask me why?" Ethanwas stunned.
"None of my business." Green rested his hands behind his head and closed his eyes to rest.
Ethan opened his mouth and then closed it; his desire to pour his heart out vanished instantly.
"Is this really a good person?" he muttered to himself. Of course, he didn't dare say it out loud.
After all, he wasn't sure if saying that would result in this man casually tossing him out of the helicopter.
Chapter 4: Legendary Paratrooper Ethan, Cheeseburger
Early the next morning, the helicopter entered the border of America.
Suddenly, a burst of static noise crackled on the main communication channel in the cabin, followed by a calm female voice cutting in.
[Unidentified aircraft, this is the 'Skynet' satellite monitoring network under the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD).]
[You have entered the United States Air Defense Identification Zone. No pre-filed flight plan has been retrieved. Please provide a valid identification code within ten seconds, or change course and leave this area.]
[Repeat, please provide an identification code immediately.]
"Sir, we can only take you this far," the pilot shouted, looking back.
Green Morgan opened his eyes.
"Don't stop."
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a black chip and a communicator, disassembled the casing, inserted the chip into the slot, and closed it.
*Beep beep.*
The screen lit up.
[S.H.I.E.L.D. Terminal: Please enter password.]
"No password."
Beep...
The built-in hidden pinhole camera of the communicator emitted a blue light to scan Green Morgan's face.
[S.H.I.E.L.D. Terminal: Identity confirmed, Level 1 Agent Green Morgan, welcome to the sub-network.]
Meanwhile, the communication channel went silent for a moment before sounding again.
[Your identity has been scanned, Agent Green Morgan. Welcome back to American airspace. Would you like to load the flight log into the system?]
"This guy is really an agent?!" Ethan hadn't slept at all. Hearing the conversation, he found it hard to believe and expressed doubt about the selection process of American official agencies.
Green Morgan ignored his inquisitive gaze, leaned into the cockpit, and picked up the walkie-talkie.
"No need. Thank you for your inquiry and work. Additionally, a special citizen will be parachuting in one minute. Please have the nearest police station ready for rescue."
[Received.]
"Where are we?" Green Morgan put down the walkie-talkie.
"Alaska. No stopovers, so it was relatively fast," the pilot replied.
"Whoa, did you hear that, Ethan? The smoked fish there is good; you should try some." Green Morgan turned and took a parachute pack from the cabin wall rack.
"What? You're not saying... the person parachuting is me, are you?!" Ethan pointed at himself, bewildered.
"Exactly. Smart guy. Stand up."
"Aren't we landing?" Ethan stood up instinctively.
"Are you a VIP? Landing? Come on, it's fun." Green Morganbriskly strapped the parachute pack onto him.
"I've never parachuted before! I used to wet my pants just climbing to the second floor when I was a kid!"
Ethan still didn't give up, glancing out the cabin. It was still pitch black outside. His legs felt weak; this was a zero-visibility jump, the highest risk level.
"That's why I called people to rescue you."
Green Morgan picked up a chain, hooked one end to the money chest and the other to Ethan's waistband, even giving it a tug.
"Be a man, okay?"
*Gulp.* Ethan swallowed hard.
He stared into Green Morgan's eyes; there wasn't a trace of fear in them.
Psychology says eyes reflect mental state. Green Morgan's mind was very strong, and that calmness infected Ethan.
"O... kay?" Ethan nodded. He wanted to sound certain, but his voice cracked.
"That's more like it."
"Okay." Ethan slowly turned, walked to the edge of the cabin, and opened the door. Cold wind rushed in. He whispered to encourage himself, then suddenly remembered something and looked back.
"Um, how do I—" Before he could finish his sentence, Green Morgan kicked him in the back.
"Juuuump—!!!"
The scream quickly vanished into the clouds.
"Just like that." Green Morgan retracted his foot and pulled the cabin door shut.
That parachute was electric, with a built-in altitude-sensing auto-deploy feature.
It was all wilderness below; he wouldn't die, just get a good scare.
Just then, his pocket vibrated.
He pulled out his phone. The screen showed fifty million dollars had arrived from an unknown account.
"Quite generous." Green Morgan knew it was Stan's, but the previously agreed amount was forty million. He'd been overpaid, which gave him a momentary flicker of conscience.
He stuffed the phone back into his pocket, pulled two bundles of cash from the money bag, and tossed them into the pilot's lap.
"A tip."
The pilot's drowsy expression instantly became alert.
"Thank you, sir!"
"Go to Ocala, Florida." He had another job there for the Life Foundation.
"Yes, sir."
...
[Queen Maeve and Homelander of The Seven saved people again today, intercepting a hijacked armored truck on the streets of Brooklyn and staying to take photos with some very lucky fans.]
[The X-Men solved the mystery of the Crystal Skull in South America—aliens actually exist! Detailed information has been classified by the Military, but this station will continue to follow up.]
[A-Train High-Energy Drink: Life is a race! Available at Vought Supermarkets and major convenience stores.]
[Please consume as directed. Excess may lead to rapid heartbeat, mild hallucinations, or an extreme craving for red spandex. Vought International reserves all final rights of interpretation for this product.]
...
The car radio continued its broadcast.
The hum of the engine and electronic equipment echoed in the car. Piercing sunlight penetrated his eyelids. TonyStark's eyes flickered and slowly opened.
"Yo, you're awake? You might feel some abdominal discomfort and a throbbing head right now. That's normal. The Tree Cobra venom gives you a heavy hangover feeling."
A familiar yet slightly intimidating voice came from beside him.
He looked over with bleary eyes. Green Morgan was chewing on a beef burger and spoke indistinctly.
Tony Stark lay in the passenger seat, his brain forcibly and rapidly replaying everything before he lost consciousness.
This made his facial muscles twitch, and he couldn't help but grimace while pressing his hand to his forehead.
"Ugh... I think the reason my abdomen feels uncomfortable is because of that knife you stuck in it."
He looked down at his abdomen; the wound was bandaged, but it still throbbed. His throat was dry and tight, his voice raspy.
"Don't mention it. Do you need me to make you a cappuccino, Boss?" Green Morgan tossed him a bottle of water.
Tony Stark caught it, quickly unscrewed the cap, and took several large gulps while giving Green Morgan an international hand gesture.
"I could have paid you double what your employer did to make you stop. You only had to ask," he said after catching his breath.
"That won't do. I have professional ethics."
"And yet you took jobs from both sides?" Tony Stark continued drinking water.
"You're more valuable to me alive, so the result is obvious. I killed you to complete the mission, and then I saved you to also complete the mission. Perfect!"
Green Morgan licked the salad dressing from the corner of his mouth, picked up a large cup of cola, and took a sip through the straw.
"Fuck." Tony Stark threw the empty bottle out the window, only then noticing they were driving through a wilderness.
"Are we still in Afghanistan?"
"No, we're already on American soil."
"Then I guess this definitely isn't the road back to New York?" Tony Stark looked at Green Morgan.
"Yeah, doing a small mission on the way."
"Oh~ a small mission. Can I just pay for this small mission too? I want to get back quickly."
"No. Professional ethics."
"Shit." Tony Stark had a preliminary grasp of this guy: chaotic, bad personality, keeps promises, but his core principles were a mess. This kind of person was destined to dance with danger.
"Where's Ethan?" he suddenly remembered, turning to look at the back seat, which was empty.
"Here, this is him." Green Morgan squeezed the burger in his hand. The thick-cut patty oozed juice with a squelching sound.
"Ethan-style burger."
"Where did Ethan go?" Tony Stark stared at him seriously.
"Tch, released into the wild." Green Morgan curled his lip, bored.
"What?!"
"He's dead?"
"He doesn't want you anymore."
...Fine, that's for the best." Tony Stark's eyes dimmed for a moment, then he understood.
He raised an eyebrow and sat up straight again as if nothing had happened.
"What's there to eat?" Tony Stark reached for the family bucket on the dashboard and pulled out a cheeseburger. His eyes lit up.
"Oh~ you have taste!"
"Remember to reimburse me for Ethan's release fee and this double cheeseburger you're about to stuff into your mouth," Green Morgan said.
"Mmm..." Tony Stark tore off the wrapper and took a bite.
The richness of the cheese and the heartiness of the patty collided perfectly, while the crispness of the pickles cut through the grease just right.
The thick milky aroma mixed with meat juice surged like a tide, salty and savory with a hint of sweetness.
He hummed with satisfaction, cheeks bulging, unable to help but smile as he leaned back and chewed slowly.
"I'm back to life. For this one bite, I'll be your Aladdin's lamp once."
"Then give me all your money."
Tony Stark looked sideways at Green Morgan. "Are you serious?"
"Uh-huh."
"The genie isn't as rich as I am."
"Then never mind, just owe it to me for now." Green Morgan finished the last bite, crumpled the wrapper into a ball, threw it into the bag, and slammed the accelerator.
"Let's go!"
The engine roared.
The intense G-force instantly pinned Tony Stark against the seat back. He quickly reached out to catch the bag of fries that almost slid off.
"What exactly is your mission?"
"Hunting."
Chapter 5: Hero?
The car drove along the road and suddenly stopped by a cornfield.
"Can't you hold it in?"
"No!"
The car door opened, and Tony hurriedly jumped out, unbuckling his belt to take a leak.
"Oh yeah~ that's the stuff."
Tony looked up at the evening twilight obscured by the towering cornstalks. A cool breeze brushed past. Despite his prostate leaving something to be desired, this uninhibited release was a long-awaited taste of freedom.
"I feel like a cowboy who just herded the horses back into the corral."
He turned his head to speak to Green, who was also relieving himself. He glanced down at himself, then at Green, and his mouth twitched.
"Then we should just leave you here to feed the coyotes, cowboy."
"No need for that." Tony silently shuffled to the side. A massive disparity was the last embarrassment any man wanted to face.
"Let's go then. It's another four miles to the town. Let's get a good meal first." Green buckled his belt and turned to leave.
"OK, OK, give me twelve more seconds," Tony shouted.
"Come on, bro, don't let me down, okay?" he muttered, looking down.
"Hey!"
A shout suddenly came from behind. Tony turned his head to look.
*Click!*
A burly redneck held a loaded shotgun, the barrel pointed right at him.
"Get your dick out of my field."
"OK!" Tony raised his hands.
"At least let me finish."
"Now!" the burly man roared.
"OK!" Tony roared back in annoyance, hurriedly buckling his belt.
There was no choice; the folk in rural America were "simple and honest." He didn't dare gamble on whether the other man would shoot. In a cornfield this vast, the Policewouldn't even find him if he were buried here.
"What's that?" The man's eyes shifted, locking onto the iron mask hanging from Tony's waist.
"My little toy."
"Give it to me."
Tony looked at him speechlessly. What was this? You make things so tense, and it turns out you just want a mask?
"Fine." He slowly lowered his hands and reached for the rope tied to the mask.
The man held the gun and approached step by step. As the distance closed, he gradually recognized Tony's face.
"Are you... Tony Stark?" he asked suspiciously.
"No, I'm Holmes, a private detective."
"No, no, you are him." A greedy light flashed in the man's eyes.
"On your knees! Hands behind your head!" he roared, spit flying, as the barrel pressed against Tony's chest.
"Shit." Tony knelt with a helpless expression and looked up at the man.
"Can't you just pretend you didn't see me?"
"Fuck you! Do you know how much you're worth?"
The man kicked Tony down and reached into his pocket for his phone. He wasn't stupid; he needed to find a backer immediately to swallow this "prize" that was Tony.
"I wasn't saying that for my sake." Tony looked at him, the pity in his eyes making the man's heart skip a beat.
He spat on the ground to bolster his courage.
Just as he raised his hand to dial, he realized his palm was gone. Only a smooth stump remained at his wrist, with bone and flesh gushing blood.
"Eh?" A look of confusion appeared on his face. The next moment, intense pain surged to his brain, and his entire face contorted.
"Aaaaaagh—!!!" The shotgun dropped to the ground as he clutched his severed wrist and wailed.
Only then did he see his hand lying on the ground, its index finger still twitching slightly from neural reactions.
"My hand! My hand!!" he screamed.
"He was right. Wouldn't it have been better if you just pretended not to see him?"
Behind him, Green's figure blocked the light, enveloping him completely in shadow. The tachi hanging in his hand hid behind the light, licking the warm blood.
He grabbed the man's neck like a chicken and dragged him toward the front of the car.
"Uh..." Tony, standing up, opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing.
Green popped the hood of the car and pressed the man's severed wrist against the scorching engine.
*Sizzle—!*
The flesh charred instantly, blue smoke rose, and the scent of meat mixed with a burnt stench wafted through the air.
"Ah..." Before the man could scream, Green knocked him out with a punch.
He slumped down, his severed wrist tearing away from the engine with charred bits of flesh, leaving a blurred burn mark.
"Now we have live bait." Green grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him toward the trunk.
The man's body scraped against the gravel on the ground with a loud rustle.
In the dim twilight, he was no different from livestock waiting for slaughter.
"Hey, Green," Tony called out from behind him.
"What?" Green turned his head.
"He's just a farmer. Tie him up and throw..."
"Are you teaching me how to do things?" Before he could finish, Green interrupted him.
"I'll buy his life, okay?" Tony said.
"No." Green stuffed the man into the trunk.
Tony wanted to speak again.
"Get back in the car. I won't say it a second time." Green's tone was flat.
"...OK." Tony fell silent for a moment, then turned to open the car door and sat back in the passenger seat.
His mind raced. He reached out and opened the glove compartment, finding a Glock 17 pistol, several magazines, and a bottle of pepper spray.
He hesitated for a split second, then made up his mind.
*Thump!*
Green closed the trunk and was walking toward the driver's seat.
The engine suddenly roared, the headlights flashed on, and the wheels ground against the gravel, kicking up dust as the car lunged forward!
"Tch." The scar on the corner of Green's lip twisted, revealing a grimace.
Before the car could fully accelerate, he smashed the window with a punch.
*Pshhh—!*
Simultaneously, a pungent mist sprayed from inside the window.
As if he had expected it, Green blew out a breath, sending the mist swirling back and spraying it all over Tony's face.
He grabbed Tony's hair and yanked him out of the seat. Tony's ribs scraped against the jagged edges of the broken window, and he cried out in pain.
"Cough, cough, cough..." Tony fell to the ground, tears and snot flowing as he coughed violently.
"An arms dealer, a warmonger, actually playing the hero? What, do you have a crush on him? Do you like his body odor that could kill mosquitoes, or his body hair that could knit a sweater?"
Green stepped on and crushed the pepper spray canister on the ground.
"I just... cough... don't want to see someone die because of me."
Tony clutched the wound on his side cut by the glass, blood seeping through his fingers.
"Come on, don't you find that ridiculous coming from you?"
"The destruction area and splash range of the missiles produced on the Stark Industries assembly lines—do I need to remind you? The number of people you've indirectly killed in a year could wrap around the equator."
Green couldn't be bothered with this "superhero" logic and kicked the shotgun on the ground toward Tony.
"Take the gun, get in the car, or die. Your corpse is worth money too—in some ways, it's even more popular."
He turned and got into the car, starting the engine.
Tony picked up the shotgun, gritted his teeth, and sat in the passenger seat while clutching his wound.
Neither of them spoke again. The headlights tore through the thickening night as they drove away from the cornfield.
...
It wasn't until the night had completely fallen that the vehicle braked to a stop at a street corner.
The tires dragged against the asphalt, trailing white smoke.
The sign of the tavern across the street flashed with gaudy neon lights, and patrons staggered in and out.
Green pushed the door open and got out.
A streetlamp cast a beam of bright white light. A well-dressed couple on the roadside were talking and laughing.
The woman's gaze fell upon Green's body, which radiated masculine hormones, and she couldn't look away.
"Grace," her partner called out softly in dissatisfaction, but after glancing at Green's height and aura, he didn't dare say more.
The woman swallowed and reluctantly looked away.
On the other side, Tony also pushed the door open and got out, his figure staggering slightly. Although the wound on his side had been bandaged, a patch of dark red blood still soaked through.
"You should be a male model. I think that has better prospects than being a hitman," Tony said to Green, glancing at the girl who was still looking back frequently.
"I'm not a hitman. If I were, you would have turned from a cold body into warm cash by now." Green slammed the car door shut and walked toward the bar.
"The fellow in the trunk might have a different opinion." Tony curled his lip and followed.
Entering the bar, Green walked straight to the counter and sat down.
A beautiful bartender familiarly took an empty glass, placed it in front of him, and poured a glass of gin.
"Big boy, what would you like to drink? First one's on me."
"LF, Mission Code: Jeepers Creepers," Green whispered, glancing at a drunkard passed out on the bar beside him.
Hearing this, the bartender's eyes narrowed. The lazy smile on her face quickly vanished, replaced by a professional and cautious expression.
"Follow me."
She snapped her fingers, and a colleague immediately took her place.
She turned and walked toward the back door.
"Wow, getting a bit of a 'Men in Black' vibe here," Tonymurmured as he followed.
"Let's go." Green stood up.
"Not taking a sip? What a waste." Tony conveniently grabbed the glass of gin, downed it in one go, and followed.
The female bartender pushed open the back door.
In the damp back alley, mosquitoes buzzed around the trash cans.
An old van was parked in the shadows. She stepped through the puddles, opened the rear door, and with one hand, grabbed a heavy black leather bag and threw it to Green.
"Everything is ready, including the bait." She pointed to a subconscious drunkard inside the van.
"I already have bait."
"That's even better. Saves some money, and I won't have to deal with the aftermath. So, the budget for the bait..." The female bartender looked at Green expectantly.
"What budget?" Green unzipped the leather bag and checked the equipment inside.
"Yes!" The female bartender whispered with a clenched fist, a smile blooming on her face. She could finally buy the full set of this year's new perfumes!
"You can go now."
"Thanks. I'll treat you next time we meet." The female bartender turned back to the bar, winking at Tony as she passed him.
"The girls here are pretty hot," Tony muttered, watching her sway her hips as she pulled the door open and went inside.
"She's a Supe. You'd get snapped in half." Green zipped the bag and swung it over his shoulder.
He looked up at the night sky. The moon was half-hidden among the clouds.
His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them.
"Time to get to work."
Chapter 6: The Evil Hunter
On the highway, the moonlight glinted coldly on the oil stains on the road like pale blood.
Headlights swayed as the vehicle traveled over the undulating slopes.
"Mmm! This soft pretzel isn't bad," Tony praised indistinctly while chewing.
"Don't touch my portion, or I'll chop off those dog paws of yours."
"Don't be so stingy. Didn't I share my chicken nuggets with you?"
"Take them, just take them." Green pushed the paper bag over in disgust.
"I don't know what kind of weird quirks you rich people have. You get tired of delicacies and then fight me for street snacks."
"If you had spent weeks in a cave gnawing on charred smoked camel meat, you would also have an incredible craving for normal food."
Tony picked up a pretzel and took a large bite out of it.
"Fortunately, there are no 'ifs'; I'm not a weakling like you." Green stepped on the brakes.
The wheels came to a stop with a short screech of friction on the road.
"Are we here?"
"According to the intel from the bartender, the target's activity route is in this area." Green pulled out a cigarette case, flicked the bottom with his index finger, and a cigarette filter popped out.
He lowered his head to catch it in his mouth, tossed the case back onto the dashboard, and fished out a metal lighter. With a 'ding,' he flipped the lid, struck a flame, and brought it to the tip of the cigarette.
The tobacco ignited, and blue smoke curled upward.
He took a deep drag, exhaled the smoke, and pulled a photograph from his trouser pocket.
The photo was extremely blurry; one could only vaguely discern a humanoid creature wrapped in a trench coat, spreading its fleshy wings to pounce. Yes, this was a post-mortem photo.
"Target: Creeper. Solitary, no pack. Constitution stronger than an average superhuman, possesses flight capabilities."
"It can extend its lifespan and self-heal by replacing human body parts and assimilating them as part of its own flesh. Its activity cycle is 23 years; it enters hibernation after feeding for 23 days."
"However, as dark forces have strengthened in recent years, the revival cycle has shortened to once a year. The number of people eaten each time varies. It drives a transport truck."
"I'm participating in this operation too." Tony's face was calm, but his gaze was exceptionally firm.
"Just don't hold me back." Green casually tucked the photo into the windshield frame.
"Don't worry, Van Helsing (vampire hunter). Let's go take care of him," Tony said with a smile.
"Heh, failed heroes always love to raise death flags."
Green unzipped a leather bag, took out a basic bulletproof vest and threw it to him, along with a rifle with a full magazine, then pushed the door open to get out of the car.
"I'm using this, what are you using?" Tony skillfully chambered a round and checked the firearm.
"I'll just use whatever."
Green slightly pulled open the tactical bag, revealing a rocket launcher inside. He rummaged through it and took out a reagent and a disposable syringe.
The intel showed that the Creeper marks its chosen targets—mostly teenagers or young adults—from an unknown distance.
However, according to the judgment of Life Foundationprofessionals, the marking range of its special senses is at least seven miles.
To this end, they extracted a special component from the remains of teenagers marked by the Creeper and used it as a basis to develop a special pheromone inducer—the one in Green's hand.
"You really are 'using whatever'." Inside the car, Tonylooked at the thick launcher tube, went silent for a moment, and muttered.
Green stepped out of the car, the wooden cork of the reagent bottle falling silently between his fingers.
Pressing the plunger with two fingers, the transparent liquid was slowly drawn into the syringe.
He pushed the tip slightly, squeezing out a fine line of droplets, then reached down and pressed the trunk release.
Click.
The trunk lid popped open.
He grabbed the burly man's ankle and dragged him out.
The heavy head hit the ground with a dull thud. Just as a moan from the unconscious man began, Green leaned down and pierced the side of the man's neck with the needle.
The drug raced through the bloodstream.
The burly man's eyes snapped open, his pupils dilating instantly, and blue veins bulged under his exposed skin.
He roared as he stood upright, explosive power surging through his muscles.
"How many fingers?" Green held up five fingers.
"Fuck—" The burly man swung a punch.
Crack.
Without his hand's movement being visible, Green gave his wrist a slight twist, and the man's entire lower jaw was ripped into his hand.
"Rude." He casually tossed it away.
The red light from the car's tail reflected off his expressionless face and also dyed the deathly silent wilderness beneath his feet red.
"Ugh... Argh..." The burly man clutched his face and stumbled back, his remaining hand fruitlessly groping for the source of the agonizing pain.
"What are you waiting for?" Green's voice was calm. "Run."
The burly man turned and slammed into the car body, then charged into the darkness like a crazed beast.
"Remember," Green's voice crawled up his back like a demon's mockery.
"If your foot steps off the boundary of the highway, you die."
Wails tore through the night sky.
The burly man sprinted along the endless highway without looking back. Only now did he realize that the damn 'Billionaire Disappearance Case' was a trap from start to finish.
The Military, the deal—it was all a front, just to cover Tony Stark's alibi and satisfy his desire for the joy of killing.
These two lunatics!
His own bit of greed had actually sent him into the deepest level of hell.
Green closed the trunk and sat back in the driver's seat.
Tony stared motionlessly at the rearview mirror as the fleeing figure left the range of the headlights and was rapidly swallowed by the darkness.
"Intense exercise will make the drug take effect faster," Green started the engine and turned off the headlights.
"The prey will be in the trap soon."
"I'm your accomplice now," Tony said with a bitter smile.
"Don't be discouraged. You're a righteous superhero."
"It's just one person's death. Isn't it worth using this life to save many more?"
"He might have a family, a wife and children. Behind him is also a string of living people."
"Then how about I kill his whole family as well while I'm at it?" Green shifted gears and turned the steering wheel.
"...Are you serious?"
"How serious do you need to be to kill someone?" The car slowly drove up the gentle slope.
"As I said, 'while I'm at it'."
Darkness enveloped the car's interior.
"Heh... Best cold joke ever."
Tony's cold sweat seeped into his collar. He didn't dare turn his head, yet he could clearly feel that sitting beside him was an existence that never weighed human lives on a scale.
Pure evil? No, it was scarier than that—it was an indifference that treated slaughter as normally as breathing.
But... perhaps only someone who thoroughly understands the darkness can hunt the darkness.
The wheels rolled over sand and gravel, driving into the deeper night. In the distance, the prey's wails were already barely audible.
Meanwhile, several miles away,
In the woods beside the downhill highway, a transport truck with mottled paint rolled over the grass and came to a rough stop.
Not far away, the wreckage of a small car was undergoing secondary explosions. Burning flames licked the trees, tearing a crimson gash in the heavy night.
A couple ran through the woods pulling their daughter. Their heavy breathing couldn't mask the sound of flapping wings getting closer and closer behind them.
The sound glided against the treetops, bringing down rustling leaves.
"Louis, take her and run! Fast!" The man stopped abruptly, kissed his daughter's forehead forcefully, and pushed his wife and daughter forward.
"I love you guys."
Before his voice had even faded, he turned and ran in the opposite direction.
"Hey! Bastard! Come on! Come eat me!" he roared hoarsely, waving his arms, trying to draw all attention to himself.
"Daddy—!" The daughter's cry was heart-wrenching.
The woman's face was covered in tears, but she gripped her daughter's hand tightly and fled forward.
The girl stumbled and looked back; the last thing she saw was her father's resolute back.
However,
Crack!
A series of heavy sounds of breaking branches came from overhead.
The mother and daughter looked up in horror, only to see bat-like fleshy wings instantly blotting out the moonlight. A foul wind wrapped in a non-human hideous laugh descended upon them.
The dull sounds of flesh being torn and bones being crushed exploded in the woods.
Amidst the rain of blood, the man not far away froze in place. The expression on his face went from terror to freezing solid, and finally to shattering.
That thing turned its head.
A grey-brown horny layer covered its hideous face, and fresh scraps of flesh still hung from the corners of its mouth.
It tilted its head, seemingly admiring every inch of despair etched on his face.
"Hoo...?" An out-of-tune breath escaped the man's throat as his gaze fell hollowly on the unrecognizable remains on the ground.
"Hee... Heh heh..." The monster let out a joyful low hiss and slowly approached.
It enjoyed this process. The prey's shivering, its breakdown, and the pheromones of fear it emitted were the most beautiful spices to accompany a meal.
The man's eyes were vacant; he slumped to his knees and gave up resistance, even with a hint of relief.
This is fine too. We can go together, go home for dinner...
At that moment, the monster's footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
An aura, distant yet exceptionally vivid, drifted over with the wind.
It was the unique fragrance of a marked prey—fresh, tender, and intense, containing an unparalleled temptation...
Its pupils constricted sharply, and saliva dripped uncontrollably from between its teeth.
The next second, it let out a thirsty roar, its fleshy wings snapped open, and it actually abandoned the prey right in front of it without hesitation, taking to the air!
The truck engine roared in the woods, headlights pierced the darkness, and it quickly moved away.
Deathly silence descended once more.
The man stood numbly in place, looking in the direction the monster had vanished.
Dark clouds swallowed the last bit of moonlight, and a thick smell of blood coiled around him, coming from his loved ones who could never be put back together again.
"Ah..."
He opened his mouth.
"Aaaaaaaah——!!!"
A flock of crows took flight in fright. The shrill wail pierced the night sky but could not escape this blood-soaked forest.
That broken heart, like the remains on the ground, would never be picked up by anyone again.