Anyway, Nick Fury was the kind of man who wouldn't stop until he hit the wall—or, as the saying went, wouldn't turn back until he reached the Yellow River. Let him suffer for once. Did he really think he had everything under control?

Blaine didn't bother thinking about whatever came next. Let the sounds of missile explosions rumble from the TV outside—he ignored them completely. Lying in the bathtub, lazily playing with a little yellow duck in the foam, he filtered everything else out.

Things unfolded exactly as Blaine imagined. When he finished his bath, the news about Electro was still playing on TV.

It appeared to be a global satellite broadcast. That alone showed how seriously the United States took the nuclear power plant explosion. Continuous live coverage filled every channel. The entire nation was watching the disaster unfold. And judging by the urgency of the updates, it wasn't hard to imagine how much pressure Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. were under.

The live footage showed Electro battling the Avengers.

Iron Man—Tony Stark—had arrived first. Thanks to his upgraded Mark 28 armor, his flight capability had improved dramatically, so he was the first on the scene.

"Okay, the match is on! Time for Iron Man to beat him up!"

"Wait—what's going on? Iron Man took a hit, and the suit's malfunctioning!"

"Oh, thank goodness Tony always carries a backup!"

"Whoa—he got hit again! Luckily that one wasn't fatal…"

"Oh my God, Iron Man—the invincible Iron Man—looks completely lost!"

"What the hell is this electricity-covered monster?"

"Oh, shoot—oops, oops…"

"That's it! Uppercut! Missile launch! No exaggeration, though—too slow!"

"Nice hit!"

Blaine was so bored that, while watching the fight, he started play-by-playing like a sports commentator, pretending to be a referee announcing every move.

He had popcorn in one hand, waved the other dramatically, and had a bottle of soda beside him. It looked less like a disaster broadcast and more like game night.

Just as Blaine was getting into it, Electro lashed out with a high-voltage cable, wrapping it around Iron Man's armor and hurling him hundreds of meters away. The internal systems fried instantly. Tony didn't get back up. Iron Man was down.

While Tony and Electro clashed, S.H.I.E.L.D. forces arrived, but the fight was too intense for them to intervene.

Electro then noticed a S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet hovering in the air. The electric line in his hand surged with blinding light—hundreds of millions of volts condensed into a beam like a laser cannon—and he fired directly at it.

"Oh, look who's here—it's Captain America!"

"Oh my God, Cap raised his shield!"

"Wait—he's not seriously going to block that with the shield, is he? He's insane!"

"Can Captain America withstand this attack? Let's find out!"

"Oh, hell—it hit him! Look—it hit!"

"Did he block it? It's so bright—wait, is he flying backward?!"

"Oh no—Cap's down!"

Another hero fell. Blaine's excitement spiked as he continued narrating. But before Captain America lasted ten seconds, a surge of electric energy blasted him backward. For some reason, villains always seemed obsessed with his shield—never the head or the legs—always the shield. Maybe it was resentment.

Though Captain America's shield was pure Vibranium, even it couldn't handle that much current. Vibranium might not break, but it was still metal—and metal conducts electricity. Cap barely had time to react; if he hadn't dropped the shield at the last second, he might have ended up like Spider-Man.

This time, S.H.I.E.L.D. was stunned. Only Iron Man and Captain America were combat-ready, and both were down. Natasha Romanoff couldn't take on Electro—no human could get close. Thor was still in Asgard. Was their only hope now really the Bounty Hunter?

"Damn it!" Fury cursed from the Quinjet's rear. "Even if I starve to death, even if I jump out of this damn plane, I am not asking him for help!"

Watching his heroes fall one by one, Fury's anger boiled over. He vented all his frustration on Electro.

"Of all the times to show up, you had to pick now—just to humiliate me! Last night, I swore we had this under control, and now look!"

Blaine, watching from his villa in Queens, could practically imagine Fury's expression. The thought of that furious face made him laugh out loud.

"I hope you're still that proud when you come begging…" he muttered.

Turning off the TV, Blaine lay back on the bed. Though it was noon, he decided to nap—to recharge his energy. Fury's arrogance amused him. He could have caught Electro cheaply, but no—he had to show off and fall flat. (Of course, this was exactly what Blaine wanted.)

"Nick, Nick…"

"Got it, got it. How's your status?"

"I'm fine—better than it looks. But J.A.R.V.I.S. is offline, and a few electrical systems are fried…"

"It's fine," Fury replied quickly. "As long as you're alive."

"I can't keep fighting, though. The armor needs repairs."

"Understood. Everyone—fall back."

At Fury's command, the Avengers retreated. Electro couldn't be contained today.

Electro himself didn't pursue. The fight had drained too much of his energy.

When Blaine woke again, it was already seven in the evening. He'd planned to order takeout but was still exhausted, so he decided to take a walk instead.

His neighborhood was a high-end villa district, equipped with luxury amenities—restaurants, bars, supermarkets—all within walking distance. You could buy anything in America without leaving the block.

There was a fast-food place downstairs. Blaine grabbed a taco and two Big Macs to fill his stomach. Maybe it was because he'd been a bounty hunter too long—or maybe because of Gali's influence—but his appetite had grown.

Near the restaurant, a new bar had opened. Blaine stopped at the door, debating whether to go in. Going home sounded boring anyway.

"One upgraded Bloody Mary," he said, taking a seat at the bar.

He took a sip, testing the taste first.

*************************************

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