Inside the mall, the originally bustling shopping center suddenly became chaotic. Screams, shouts, and the rapid "clack-clack-clack" of high heels rose and fell, like a symphony of disorder. People frantically pushed open glass doors to escape, stumbling as they grabbed their phones, trying not to forget to post on Facebook while fleeing for their lives, a spectacle even more impressive than the swarming crowds during a sale.
But these armed individuals didn't seem to be in a hurry to do anything to the fleeing pedestrians. Instead, they orderly made way, allowing the crowd to pass, like mall security directing customers to leave in an orderly fashion. The only difference was that these "security guards" were all wearing tactical helmets, their eyes under the masks were cold, and they were covered in infrared laser sights and fully armed tactical gear, with magazines stuffed in their chest pockets and grenades hanging from their waists. They looked quite "professional." Their gun barrels occasionally wavered, but not a single bullet was fired at the fleeing passersby.
"Beep beep beep—" The infrared scanners emitted warning sounds from time to time, and dozens of red dots jumped on the mall walls and floors, like children playing with laser pointers chasing a cat. All these "laser pointers" unanimously aimed in one direction—the most secluded corner of the mall, a quiet coffee shop.
Blonsky was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, holding a cup of coffee, drinking leisurely. He wore sunglasses and looked like an ordinary middle-aged man enjoying afternoon tea, seemingly unconcerned about the surrounding commotion. Seeing more and more infrared dots on himself, Blonsky watched like a silent pantomime, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, as if watching a group of clumsy mice forced to perform a funny act.
"They're here, the target has appeared!" one armed individual reported in a low voice through his earphone, his eyes fixed on Blonsky's direction. His voice was full of tension, like a cat about to pounce on a mouse—excited, anticipating, tense. However, none of the cats knew that this "mouse" would not only fight back but also swat them away with one paw.
Blonsky gently put down his coffee cup, tilted his head slightly, as if listening to the armed individuals' whispers. He smiled slightly, then slowly stood up from the chair, stretching his shoulders, like a wrestler preparing to enter the ring. The infrared dots moved on him, like someone had drawn a bunch of small red targets on his body, and Blonsky didn't care at all, even reaching out to pat his chest, as if saying, "You're aiming pretty well."
"Oh, what a grand display, just to invite me for afternoon tea?" Blonsky muttered softly to himself, a mischievous smile on his lips, "You're giving me a lot of face. But you better be careful, my temper isn't that good."
He raised his head, his gaze coldly sweeping over the armed individuals hidden behind pillars and counters. In that instant, his eyes were like a slyly smiling cat, ready to jump onto the table and knock over a milk jug. And those armed individuals hadn't realized that they themselves were the mice about to be teased.
As the armed individuals advanced silently, they quickly formed a professional tactical formation, surrounding the coffee shop where Blonsky was, sealing it off tightly. Each armed individual moved with mechanical coordination, the infrared aiming points constantly sweeping around, occasionally crossing Blonsky's figure. Clear instructions came through their earphones: "Maintain vigilance, be ready for engagement at any time! Once the target is confirmed, suppress quickly!"
The leader's movements were particularly skilled, his gestures smooth and precise, like a conductor on a stage. The voice in his earphone was low and cold: "First squad, advance to the front, seal off the left exit; Second squad, provide suppressing fire from the rear. Attention, the target is dangerous, do not give him any time to react."
A smile of disdain hung on Blonsky's lips. He remained standing there, watching these professionally equipped soldiers surround him as if facing a formidable enemy. He slightly raised his arm, looked at his reflection in the coffee cup, his heart completely calm, even wanting to laugh a little.
"Quite professional indeed," he murmured softly, like an experienced soldier commenting on a recruit's operation, "Front line advance and cover, rear line suppressing fire, electronic interference signal shielding. Heh, truly a bunch of 'well-trained' rookies."
He unhurriedly put down the coffee cup, gently clapping his hands, as if applauding this "performance." "It's a pity, I really should find some interesting opponents," he said to himself, his voice full of contempt, "These guys, let alone stopping me, it would be impressive if they could last three minutes."
The leader clearly couldn't hear Blonsky's mockery. He looked at the approaching target, then suddenly waved his hand. His subordinates immediately pounced forward, fully armed: "Action!" At his command, the armed individuals quickly spread out, almost every direction covered with infrared aiming points, targeting Blonsky's body, like an invisible net trying to completely trap him.
But Blonsky's smile grew stronger, as if watching a group of clowns completely unaware of their own foolishness. Just as the armed individuals were about to approach him, his body began to rapidly expand, his muscles suddenly bulging, his bones making cracking sounds under his skin, green scales covering his entire body. In just a few seconds, he had transformed from an ordinary person into a colossal being.
"Bang—!" With a loud crash, the moment his size surged, he directly sent all the surrounding tables and chairs flying. The infrared aiming points instantly lost their target, the dazzling red lights flashing wildly in the air. The armed individuals' originally precise tactical layout completely lost its effectiveness before this terrifying transformation. They stared blankly at the monster that had suddenly appeared before them, their fingers even forgetting to pull the trigger.
"Oh? What's wrong? Little guys, scared stiff?" Abomination Blonsky roared, his voice low and mocking, like looking at a group of completely overconfident fleas, "I haven't even made a move yet!"
A few armed individuals finally reacted, raised their guns, and began firing fiercely. Bullets rained down on Blonsky. The bullets struck his thick scales, only making "clanging" sounds, failing to budge him in the slightest. Blonsky shielded his face with one hand, a cruel smile on his face, and tilted his head slightly, giving the armed individuals a provocative grin.
"That's it? Are you really here to catch me, or to put on a comedy show?" he said mockingly, then suddenly raised his foot and stomped down, crushing an armed individual who tried to approach, along with his weapon, into the floor. The ground instantly cracked, debris flying everywhere. The armed individual didn't even have time to let out a cry before being heavily crushed.
"Want to catch me? With this junk equipment of yours?" Blonsky sneered, raising his massive fist and casually swinging it, actually sweeping away five or six armed individuals along with their guns. His strength was so immense that he directly flung them into the opposite wall, which instantly collapsed, sending up large clouds of dust.
"Get out of the way!" he roared, then charged into the crowd, swinging his massive arms wildly, each punch carrying the force of thunder. The gunshots became inaudible in his roar, and the armed individuals' originally airtight cordon was torn apart in an instant. Every soldier who tried to resist was sent flying painfully by his heavy punches, like flies being swatted away.
The raised tactical rifles and flashing infrared lights seemed like useless toys in front of Blonsky. The figure of Abomination rampaged through the battlefield, destroying everything in his path, clearing away anything that stood in his way in the most direct and brutal manner. Seeing an armed individual trying to retreat, Blonsky directly reached out and grabbed his vest, lifting him up, and said with a cold laugh, "What, not playing with me anymore?"
The poor armed individual was too scared to speak, only able to stare with wide, terrified eyes, struggling desperately. Blonsky let out a cold laugh and casually threw him away. The man directly knocked over a row of merchandise shelves, things falling everywhere, emitting a messy smell.
"What a boring game," Blonsky muttered, turning around and grabbing another guy who tried to ambush him from behind, lifting him straight up from the ground, his voice low but with a bloodthirsty laugh, "Little mice, the hunter hasn't said it's over yet, who told you to leave first?"
His massive hands suddenly exerted force, slamming the armed individual heavily onto the ground. The ground instantly caved in, the armed individual's body almost deforming upon impact, emitting a teeth-grinding "crack" sound.
Blonsky stood amidst the wreckage, looking up at the sky and letting out a low, wild laugh. The sound echoed through the empty hall of the mall, like the roar of a demon: "Come on! More! Let me see, who else wants to play with me!"
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(End of Chapter)