“What’s the matter?
Never seen a dead person before?” Green leaned down, whispering into the leader’s ear.
Beneath the dim yellow light, his eyes looked as though they were shrouded in dark threads, carrying a playful, chilling coldness.
“Look at your men.
All you did was turn your head around, and they’re already scared out of their wits.” “Ugh…
ugh…” The leader wasn’t completely dead yet.
His eyeballs bulged wildly, bloodshot, his tongue hanging out as he tried in vain to breathe, but his neck had been twisted into a horrifying braid.
“Anyway, thanks for your honesty.
I quite liked it, but you’re useless now.” Green tossed him aside like trash.
The leader dropped to his knees, his head dangling limply over his back, his face pointing directly at the terrified Tony Stark and Ho Yinsen.
Several subordinates cursed loudly, trying to muster their courage to raise their rifles.
*Thump, thump, thump!* What rang out wasn’t gunfire, but the muffled thud of Green’s hand-blades piercing through air and driving straight through skulls.
“Don’t be scared.
I’m here to save you.” Green turned around and flashed what he thought was a gentle smile at Tony and Yinsen.
At the same time, he pulled his hand out from a gruesome, bloody hole and discarded a handful of brains.
A cursed spirit resembling a human-headed earthworm wriggled out from the void behind him, wrapping itself around his torso.
When humans were on the verge of death, or when their emotions suffered an extreme shock akin to death, it was possible to glimpse the outline of a cursed spirit—or even see its exact form clearly.
This grotesque, terrifying scene—defying all conventional logic—instantly tore through the last fragile line of defense in Dr.
Yinsen’s strained mind.
“AH!
Mmph—” He screamed in terror, only for Tony to slam a hand over his mouth the next second.
“Shut up!” Tony growled in a low voice.
His face was equally pale, but his eyes were fixed firmly on Green as he forced himself to stay calm.
“Which government agency are you with?” “I’m not with any of them.” Green raised his hand, and the cursed spirit “Chubou” wrapped around him opened its mouth, vomiting out the Inverted Spear of Heaven, a weapon resembling a main gauche dagger.
“I’m just a temp worker.” He twirled the dagger through the air with a flourish, switching it to his left hand, while his right hand picked up an AK off the floor.
The corners of his mouth stretched into a vicious grin.
“Are you two planning to stay here and sell your asses, or are you coming with me?
Hmm?” Before his words fully faded, his body blurred.
With a *boom*, only a residual image remained where he had stood.
His speed was so vast that it surpassed the physical limits of visual and neural processing.
Tony and Yinsen were hit by a sudden burst of air pressure, forcing them to close their eyes instinctively.
The next second, blood-curdling screams and gunfire erupted in the tunnel outside.
“Hurry!
We have to grab this chance!” Tony hauled up the still-dazed Yinsen, then sprinted over to the tub of lukewarm water, reaching in to drag out the grey iron mask submerged at the bottom.
Next, he strode over to the leader’s corpse, suppressed his disgust to pull the handgun from the man’s waist, and turned to sprint outward—only to find Yinsen still standing frozen in place.
“Yinsen!” he bellowed, running back and slapping the man across the face.
“Huh?
But the armor…” Yinsen finally snapped back to reality.
“We don’t have time!
Follow me!” Tony glared into his eyes, his voice leaving no room for argument.
“OK, OK!” Yinsen nodded frantically, moving his trembling legs to keep up with Tony, grabbing a rifle off the floor on his way out.
He might as well—not that it would help against that monster anyway.
The two hugged the wall as they charged into the tunnel.
Then, they froze.
The tunnel was littered with severed limbs and broken torsos.
The blood-stained electric bulbs flickered intermittently.
Long, narrow trails of blood painted the walls, slowly oozing downward.
Looking closely, the scattered heads bore expressions frozen in moments of terror or confusion, proving that the attacker had severed their necks in a matter of seconds.
“Blegh…” Yinsen suddenly doubled over, vomiting violently.
“Move.
Get outside.” Tony covered his mouth, forcibly suppressing the bile rising in his throat as he dragged Yinsen forward at a breakneck run.
The further out they ran, the sparser the gunfire became, and the more anxious their hearts grew.
Their brains naturally categorized both sides of the conflict into the same terrifying bracket; no matter who won, it didn’t seem like a good outcome for them.
By the time they burst out of the tunnel entrance, the gunfire had stopped completely.
As their eyes adjusted to the glaring sunlight, they looked at the field of mangled corpses, an overwhelming wave of shock washing over them.
Green stood amidst the pile of bodies, the short dagger in his hand slowly dripping thick blood.
Meanwhile, he was casually chewing on a stick of dried meat he had picked up from somewhere.
He pulled out a phone, recorded the coordinates of the location, and then looked up at the two of me.
The weapons here weren’t worth much, but the prototype armor model Tony Stark had left behind was another story.
He knew a few decent buyers.
“You’re out?
Then let me move.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket and flicked his blade.
The blood on the steel splattered onto the face of a corpse at his feet.
The corpse’s wide-open eyes were covered in red, which gradually bloomed into a dull smear.
And Green looked like he had merely come here for a vacation, casually calling his travel companions to head back.
“Move?
Go where?” To be honest, if Green had said they were going to Hell, Tony would have believed him.
Tony didn’t even notice that his own voice was trembling.
“Back to your villa for a party, of course.
What, did you develop Stockholm syndrome from being kidnapped?” Green grabbed his recovered duffel bag and walked off, finding a pickup truck with the key still in the ignition.
He turned the key.
The engine roared to life.
Tony took a deep breath and stepped toward Green.
“Tony…” Yinsen grabbed his arm hesitantly.
“We don’t have a choice, Yinsen,” Tony said softly.
Hearing that, Yinsen let go and followed behind him, dropping his rifle along the way.
He couldn’t win a fight against that guy anyway.
Green pulled a U-turn.
Tony climbed into the passenger seat while Yinsen scrambled into the truck bed—he didn’t dare sit next to Green.
Green slammed on the gas pedal, and the pickup surged forward.
Tony looked at the shrinking Ten Rings stronghold in the rearview mirror, feeling somewhat dazed.
These past weeks had been the hardest time of his life.
He had even been prepared to fight to the death.
And now…
they had just walked out like this?
Just like that?
Still, it was good.
Yinsen was still here.
He was still alive.
At that thought, the relief of surviving a near-death ordeal surged into his chest, and his lips curved upward uncontrollably.
*Pfft!* Suddenly, Tony felt a cold sensation in his abdomen.
The feeling of a hard object plunging into his body was cleanly transmitted along his nerves to his brain, followed by a tearing, agonizing pain.
He looked down to see a short dagger embedded halfway into his stomach, blood slowly soaking outward.
The hand gripping the hilt belonged to none other than Green, sitting right beside him.
“What?” Tony’s expression went blank with shock.
“Oops, slipped right in.
Does it hurt?” Green asked with a face full of deep concern.
“What can I say?” Tony desperately wanted to grab the man’s collar and spit a mouthful of bloody phlegm right into his face.
Hurt?
Try it yourself and find out!
The rapid blood loss felt as though it were draining all the strength from his body.
Leaning against the backrest, he slid downward uncontrollably.
“Why?” His limbs began to go numb.
“Because someone paid money for your life,” Green answered honestly.
“I’m…
richer…” “That’s why I saved you.” “Then why…
kill me…” “Because someone paid money for your life.” “You…” Tony’s lips were numb now, his voice growing fainter.
This atrocious bastard was clearly just messing with him.
He didn’t understand.
He couldn’t comprehend it.
But more than anything, he felt an overwhelming sense of unwillingness.
Was he really going to die in such an absurd fashion?
“Hmm?
Looks like the tree cobra venom is kicking in.” Green pressed two fingers against Tony’s carotid artery, confirming his pulse had become faint.
Then, he pulled out his phone, opened the camera function, held it up high, and leaned his body toward Tony.
The two of them were framed together: one pale-faced with unfocused eyes, the other grinning widely.
“Cheese.” *Snap!* The photo frozen in time.
“Done.” Green clicked confirm and sent the message.
Afterward, he pulled the blade out of Tony’s abdomen.
There was very little bleeding; he had avoided vital organs, and it wasn’t a pass-through wound.
Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a miniature spray canister, and spritzed it over the wound a few times.
White foam rapidly adhered and sealed the flesh, stopping the bleeding completely.
“SHIELD technology really isn’t half bad,” he murmured, casually tossing the empty spray canister aside.
The thing was single-use.
After that, he pulled Tony’s body upright and buckled his seatbelt.
Then, as if sensing something, he turned his head and looked over the seat backrest through the rear window.
Yinsen was staring back at him through the glass, his eyes wide and his face filled with sheer horror.
“Oh dear, I’ve been spotted,” Green grinned.
His narrow eyes and sharp, defined profile—framed by the dim lighting inside the cab and the flying desert dust outside—looked to Yinsen like the very image of a devil.
And next…
it was his turn.