Mike couldn't and didn't need to consider Reuben's feelings. He showed mercy only because Reuben's threat level was temporarily low, and his ability had piqued Mike's interest.
Soul transference?
Mike sheathed his blade: "Go back into your own body."
Reuben considered whether to take the opportunity to ambush Mike or reclaim his original body.
After some thought... he decided against it.
He had a premonition that no matter which he chose, it would lead to death. It was better to obediently do as Mike said... How frustrating.
The intelligent light in the polar bear's eyes gradually faded, returning to confusion, or rather, becoming even more confused—
"Why is this bear here?"
"Huh, two lumps of food!"
"Uh, I just ate, I'm so full, I can't eat anymore... It's so hot here, I should go back."
The polar bear opened its mouth, let out a grunt, scratched its chest with its paw, then wiggled its plump backside, and slowly walked towards the Arctic Circle. Mike opened his mouth, almost shouting, "Sir, take care."
Reuben slowly regained consciousness, immediately wiping his neck. His hand was covered in blood, but the wound wasn't deep.
"Dizzy, I'm anemic..." Reuben looked like he was about to collapse.
"Oh, it's nothing," Mike said seriously. "I have a secret recipe here called 'fighting fire with fire.' Since you're anemic, just let out more blood, and then you'll be cured."
Reuben wasn't sure if he'd be cured, but he was definitely going to die. Was it really okay to talk such nonsense with such a serious face?
"Still anemic?" Mike asked with concern, his hand on the hilt of his blade, ready to assist with "treatment" at any moment.
"No, no, I think I might have been lying down for too long, causing poor blood circulation. It'll be fine in a moment, it'll be fine in a moment..."
With his life on the line, what was anemia? Reuben waved his hands repeatedly.
"For thirty million U.S. dollars?" Mike asked this because he felt Reuben shouldn't be short on money; he might not have thirty million U.S. dollars in savings, but all of New York was his ATM.
Reuben said, "They said that whoever completes this job will become the Continental Hotel's top assassin. Before, the Continental Hotel's top assassin was the legendary assassin John Wick."
Oh, so it wasn't for profit, but for fame. Most actions can't escape this framework.
Mike said, "You're very lucky. Most people who've attacked me have died. The reason you're alive is simple: you're useful!"
Reuben subconsciously tensed and swallowed.
Mike continued, "Three days from now, report to this address. I have a job for you."
Reuben: "Stark Tower!"
The address Mike gave was Stark Tower. "You know it?"
"Yes. I once applied for a job at Stark Industries and was rejected."
"Why?"
"Too ugly."
"What position did you apply for?"
"Secretary to the President's personal assistant. I'm a fan of Miss Potts."
A stalker, more like...
Glancing at Reuben's textbook-like chubby figure and greasy appearance, Mike sighed and said earnestly, "It's good to know yourself. Don't humiliate yourself."
"What kind of job?" Reuben asked. Stark Industries was a dream workplace for many graduates, and he was once one of them.
"Being researched," Mike said with a serious face.
Reuben: o(╥﹏╥)o, he had a very bad feeling.
"Can I refuse?" Reuben asked cautiously.
"You can."
Clang!
Mike drew his blade.
Reuben quickly said, "I was just asking! It's my honor to be researched, how could I refuse? Absolutely impossible!"
Mike: "If you dare to run away, you'll have to hide like a rat for the rest of your life. The last person I kept such a close eye on was Bullseye."
Reuben could only give a dry laugh. He had indeed considered running away. Remembering that Mike had offended the Continental Hotel to hunt down Bullseye, he didn't think Mike was bluffing.
"I must have been out of my mind," Reuben regretted. If he were to kill Bullseye, the best method would be to possess a rat, carry a satchel of explosives, infiltrate Bullseye's room through the ventilation shaft, and then "boom!" Bullseye would die, and he'd have a headache for a few days.
If Bullseye was prepared, Reuben's chances of success would be very small. This person in front of him was rumored to have directly killed Bullseye.
"Stupid, I'm really stupid." At this moment, Reuben became like Xianglin's Wife.
Suddenly, Reuben sniffed, "Someone's coming!"
"Really!" As if afraid Mike wouldn't believe him, Reuben pointed to his nose and said, "After dispossessing, the possessed animal's abilities sometimes persist for several hours. Hehehe... That's why I've raised a few sables."
Mike: "???"
How did sables get involved?
Reuben: "Sables can continuously X for eight hours."
Mike: "That ability... is good."
Reuben said, "Polar bears have vision and abilities comparable to humans, but their sense of smell is very keen, seven times that of canines. I smell strangers approaching..."
"Hmm?" Mike's Observation Haki also sensed them—one, two... six fully armed gunmen. Mike said, "Stay here and don't run around. Such good research material would be a shame to die..."
Mike got up, drew his blade, and walked out with a murderous expression.
Soon, Reuben heard continuous, dense gunfire.
Then the gunshots gradually thinned out.
Until everything returned to calm.
Two minutes later, Mike walked in, his blade in its sheath, his face peaceful. If it weren't for his keen sense of smell detecting the strong scent of blood, Reuben would have even thought Mike had just left to use the restroom.
The strong contrast between vision and smell was like a hand tightly gripping Reuben's heart. He suddenly voluntarily returned to the previous topic and said, "I won't run, I really won't."
"I believe you." Mike saw that Reuben was in fear, and although he didn't know why, since he brought it up voluntarily, his trustworthiness must be very high. At this time, trust and encouragement should be given, a slap and then a date.
After eating the date Mike gave him, Reuben seemed very excited.
"Could it be Stockholm Syndrome?" Mike guessed.
The human spiritual World, how amazing.
"Whoosh~" Stepping out of the zoo, Reuben smelled an even stronger scent of blood. Immediately visible were three gunmen's corpses, and three more in more hidden places. But "hidden" just meant they died a bit more discreetly, it was useless.
As an assassin, Reuben wasn't afraid of blood. He had controlled fierce dogs to bite through people's throats several times, and controlled elephants to trample people into meat paste. Having experienced such gore, why would he feel such fear towards Mike?
Reuben couldn't understand, and didn't want to think about it. As soon as he thought about it, fear would coil around him like a venomous snake.
If he had to give an explanation, Reuben felt that perhaps it was because he often possessed animals, and the animals' instincts were stronger. And this instinct, accumulated over countless years, was telling him through nerve transmission and hormone secretion: this is a higher tier of the biological pyramid.
Reuben sniffed, planning a path to leave, avoiding the smell of people and the smell of gunpowder.
Leaving the zoo, Mike walked and walked, arriving outside a rather retro open-air building.
Mike saw the fan-shaped tiered seating and the sign for "Delacorte Theater."
"So this is the theater where Shakespeare's plays are performed in the summer... Shakespeare in a Midsummer Night... Just thinking about it... makes me sleepy..." For a man like Mike, whose artistic cells were all sacrificed, wouldn't it be better to lose a few more games with teammates? Why go to a crowded place to sleep?