In the early morning at the Manhattan apartment, thick blackout curtains blocked the sunlight, keeping the bedroom dimly lit.
Linus Vance stood in front of a massive full-length mirror, his slender fingers methodically tying the black tie of his suit.
It was the Vibranium Nanotech Bulletproof Suit from the system.
The fabric had a subtle matte texture, entirely free of wrinkles.
In the mirror’s reflection, movement stirred on the king-size bed.
Betty Ross sat up from the bed, wearing an oversized white button-down shirt.
It was the shirt Linus had taken off the night before.
The oversized hem barely covered her upper thighs, and the collar retained the lingering scent of his woody cologne.
Barefoot on the wool rug, she walked silently up behind Linus and wrapped her arms around his firm waist.
“Do you really have to go?”
She pressed her cheek against Linus’s back.
The slightly cool touch of the Vibranium suit made her shiver, but her arms tightened around him even more.
Linus didn’t turn around, merely meeting her gaze in the mirror.
He raised a hand and placed it over her intertwined hands.
He exerted no pressure, lingering for just two brief seconds.
“That place is a battlefield for men.
It gets too bloody.”
Linus kept his voice low, tinged with morning raspiness, echoing clearly through the quiet bedroom.
“Stay in the safehouse.
Use your security access to monitor the Pentagon’s encrypted comms channels.
If you spot any military reinforcements moving in, let me know immediately.”
The best way to completely win a woman’s heart—aside from emotional dominance—was giving her an indispensable sense of involvement.
As a top-tier researcher, tracking military signals was child’s play for Betty.
Hearing Linus’s instructions, her anxiety eased slightly, and she nodded in obedience.
She even instinctively stood on her tiptoes, her nose brushing against the back of Linus’s neck, greedily soaking in the feeling of security he offered.
“Be careful.
Don’t get hurt.
I’ll…
I’ll wait for you here.”
Linus turned around and cupped her slender chin.
His thumb rested against her full lower lip for a moment, the rough texture of his skin contrasting with her soft lips.
He didn’t kiss her.
Just as Betty closed her eyes in anticipation, he let go and stepped back.
“I hate pain.
If anyone’s dying today, it’ll be someone else.”
Leaving her with those words, Linus grabbed his sunglasses off the table, put them on, and strode out the door.
Crisp and completely unhesitating.
Betty leaned against the doorframe of the walk-in closet, her legs still trembling slightly.
As she stared into the empty hallway, the poison known as “Linus Vance” sank even deeper into her very bones.
…
Over ten hours later.
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
In the rugged terrain of the Rocinha favela, the hot, muggy air was thick with the sour stench of fermenting sewers.
Tangled power lines hung over low red-brick houses like giant spiderwebs.
Halfway up the hillside, the second-floor balcony of a dilapidated cafe with a prime vantage point had been completely cleared out.
Linus sat in a wicker chair with his legs crossed.
A glass of iced Americano packed with ice sat on the round wooden table before him.
He looked down at the labyrinthine streets below like a VVIP sitting in a theater box seat, waiting for the main show to begin.
“Target entering Alley C!
Team Two, flank him!”
Below, chaos erupted.
Over a dozen unmarked black bulletproof SUVs blocked off every exit and entry point.
Heavily armed Navy SEALs wielded rifles, moving fast across rooftops and narrow corridors.
Blonsky, the elite soldier, held a grenade launcher like a bloodthirsty wolf, kicking open a rusted iron door.
Bruce Banner was dripping with sweat, sprinting wildly through muddy alleys.
His oversized hoodie was soaked through with sweat.
The heart rate monitor on his wrist beeped harshly, its red numbers spiking crazily toward 180.
“Stay back!
All of you, stay back!”
Banner clutched his hair, backing into the brick wall of a dead-end alley and screaming at the advancing strike team.
No one paid any mind to his warning.
Three tear gas canisters landed right at Banner’s feet.
Choking white smoke billowed into the air.
Immediately after, two soldiers raised specially modified high-voltage net guns and pulled the triggers.
*Zzzzt!*
A high-grade fiber net charged with super high-voltage electricity clamped firmly over Banner.
Blue electrical arcs crackled violently across his body.
Banner let out an agonized scream, crashing heavily into the muddy water, his body twitching uncontrollably.
His heart rate monitor breached its maximum limit and shattered.
“ROAR—!”
A roar that shook the entire favela detonated from deep within the smoke.
The high-voltage net was torn to shreds by a terrifying, monstrous green force.
Nearly three meters tall, with muscles rock-hard as granite, the Hulk stood tall amidst the gunsmoke.
The two soldiers in front hadn’t even finished raising their rifles before the Hulk grabbed a broken lamppost beside him and swung it in a sweeping strike.
A roaring wind howled through the alley.
The two soldiers were sent flying dozens of meters, smashing through two load-bearing walls in succession before being buried under the rubble.
In an attack helicopter hovering low above, General Ross leaned half his body out of the cabin door, barking furious orders into his radio:
“All units, fire!
Don’t stop!”
A crossfire net instantly materialized.
Concentrated rifle fire rained down on Hulk’s green skin, leaving behind nothing more than faint white scuffs that failed completely to pierce his defense.
Hulk roared, slamming his hands into the ground and ripping up a massive chunk of concrete pavement, crushing an active SUV into scrap metal in one slam.
Up on the balcony, Linus chewed on his straw and lazily took a sip of iced coffee.
He raised a hand and tapped the micro-comm earbud in his ear.
“New York HQ, are you getting my video feed?
Internet down here in South America is surprisingly laggy.”
The clatter of a keyboard echoed through the comms, followed by Betty’s trembling voice.
“I see it, Linus.
Is that what he is now…?
He’s practically a killing machine.”
“‘Killing machine’ isn’t quite accurate.
As we say back in China, right now he’s an ultra-efficient star employee from the demolition department.”
Linus watched as the Hulk tore a heavy machine gun barrel right off an armored vehicle.
“This level of violent aesthetics beats the demolition crews at Culver University by a mile.”
Listening to Linus’s cool, teasing remarks over the radio, Betty felt her fear vanish for the most part, replaced by a strange, secret sense of relief.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.
“I just intercepted a temporary directive from the Pentagon.
They deployed two infrasound sonic cannons from a nearby US military base.
Those things can shatter internal organs—do not go near the center of the zone!”
“Understood.”
Linus rubbed the condensation on the glass cup with his finger.
“Just keep your eyes on the screen, sweetie.
Tonight, your man is putting on a blockbuster action show for you—free of charge.”
The casual, completely natural way he said “your man” made Betty catch her breath on the other end of the comm line.
She completely forgot to watch her ex-boyfriend fighting for his life on screen, her world narrowing down to the deafening thud of her own pounding heart.
The battle below took a sharp turn for the worse.
Two heavy armored vehicles roared into the main street, their massive roof-mounted sound emitters locking onto the Hulk.
Visible ripples distorted the air.
High-frequency infrasound bypassed physical armor entirely.
The Hulk clutched his ears and collapsed to one knee, letting out an agonizing shriek.
The flagstones on the street shattered under the sonic vibration.
Blonsky approached with his grenade launcher, stopping less than five meters from the Hulk, his eyes burning with fanatical combat lust.
“Get up, big guy!
Is this all you’ve got?”
His answer was a massive green palm sweeping forward like a collapsing mountain.
Far from ending the fight, the infrasound only supercharged the Hulk’s rage.
Pushing against the sound waves, he forced himself upright and delivered a terrifying backhand.
Blonsky didn’t even have time to react.
He launched into the air like a ragdoll and plowed a ten-meter trough of blood into the concrete before blacking out cold.
Next, the Hulk brought both fists together, slamming them into the earth with tremendous, devastating force.
The earth shattered and the mountains trembled!
The massive shockwave flipped both sound cannons onto their sides, destroying the emitters completely.
The encirclement crumbled.
The surviving soldiers discarded their weapons and fled in terror.
In the helicopter, General Ross slammed his fist against the cabin door, his face pale with rage as he watched his carefully prepared trap dissolve into a farce.
Linus swallowed the last gulp of his iced Americano, the ice cubes clinking crisply against the bottom of the glass.
“Show’s over.”
He stood up, casually fastening the single button of his Vibranium suit and adjusting his tie.
Below, the Hulk had completely lost all reason, lifting a massive truck hood overhead, about to crush several groaning, wounded soldiers into bloody paste.
Linus walked to the edge of the balcony.
A drop of dozens of meters lay below, the wind whipping at his suit jacket.
He let out a light chuckle into the communicator.
Before his voice faded, he leaned forward and plunged like a pitch-black meteor straight toward the center of the chaotic battlefield.
Air pressure shredded the wind.
The heavy engine hood was mere inches from pulverizing the soldiers when a tall, striking silhouette crashed down, stopping Hulk’s fatal strike dead with a single hand.
A smooth, gentle voice echoed across the silent ruins.
“Little Brother Banner, littering isn’t a very nice habit.”