Jackson lay on the ground, eyes wide with rage, an elemental arrow piercing straight through his heart.
Even in death, Jackson probably never knew how he died.
The blood he spilled was entirely black. When it touched the ground, it corroded it like sulfuric acid, producing a sizzling sound.
It was clear how deadly the poison on that arrow was.
Scott's eyes were filled with disbelief.
Of course, he had already known that this lizard-like creature was his "friend" Jackson.
What he hadn't expected… was that Jackson would die just like that.
Blaine ignored Scott and walked straight to Jackson's corpse. He drew a small knife from his waist.
Startled, Scott asked, "What are you doing?"
Blaine glanced at him blankly. "None of your business."
Then, right in front of Scott, he swung the knife and chopped off Jackson's head in one swift motion. Holding the head in his hand, he turned to leave.
At that moment, Scott suddenly snapped out of it, howled in fury like a wolf, and shouted with eyes full of anger:
"Someone was controlling him! It wasn't his fault! You shouldn't have killed him!"
In his view, there were other ways to cure Jackson. The man before him, who looked like a Hunter or assassin, was nothing more than a cold-blooded killer.
"Shouldn't have killed him?" Blaine paused slightly, his expression strange.
Honestly, even when watching the original show, he thought Scott's character was way too naive and soft-hearted—thinking he could win a 'war' without shedding blood.
And now, he was saying "you shouldn't have killed him" to someone far beyond his power.
This kind of thinking went beyond just stupidity.
"Whether he wanted to kill or not, what's that got to do with me?"
"I'm just a Hunter doing a job for money."
Facing Scott lunging at him, Blaine sighed, as if lamenting his lack of self-awareness.
He casually swung his bow, releasing a force ten times stronger than a normal person. Scott, who was mid-air with no footing, was immediately sent flying with a miserable scream, crashing hard into a wall and leaving a human-shaped dent.
Blaine had no interest in Scott whatsoever.
Even though he knew from the original show that Jackson was indeed being controlled, he had no intention of looking further into it.
So what if he knew? So what if he didn't?
It had nothing to do with him.
He was just an emotionless Bounty Hunter. Digging deeper wouldn't earn him a single extra cent.
If there wasn't money involved, he wouldn't have bothered coming here in the first place.
These werewolves fought purely on instinct—no skill, no tactics, just brute force. Not only was his strength higher than theirs, even if it weren't, Blaine could still beat them senseless with his combat skills.
Scott, after taking such a heavy blow, lost consciousness on the spot.
He collapsed right beside Jackson's headless corpse.
…
…
Blaine held Jackson's severed head—now in his monstrous form—and sighed.
This mission ended up taking less time than the ride to get here.
It had taken less than five minutes after arriving to claim the shapeshifter's head.
Ten million dollars—way too easy.
Blaine felt like he was starting to get cocky.
No—he shook his head. He couldn't afford to get cocky. There were countless powerhouses in the Marvel world—Thor, the Hulk—he hadn't even seen those monsters yet. If a fight broke out, who knew who'd win?
If he really wanted to get cocky, it'd have to be after he could wipe out the universe with a single slap.
Yeah… he'd need to get stronger so he could really be arrogant.
Though he had a million thoughts racing through his head like an actor, he hadn't forgotten the goal of his profession.
Carrying the head, he arrived at the back mountain of the Beacon Hills Police Department.
He tossed the head on the ground.
From the darkness, a pair of eyes stared deeply at Peter, making him feel like his soul and body were being completely seen through. It made him extremely uncomfortable.
After a moment...
Blaine withdrew his gaze and turned to leave.
"Wire the ten million into my account within three days."
"Don't even think about cheating me. Or you'll end up like him… little wolf."
His voice was low and commanding, completely different from his youthful appearance.
Peter's body trembled slightly, shocked.
How did he know he was a werewolf?
Looking at Jackson's decapitated head still glaring in fury, Peter swallowed hard. In his fear, the blue glow in his eyes intensified, his fangs itched, and his fingernails began to sharpen—he nearly couldn't hold back from transforming.
It had nothing to do with him.
It was simply a self-preservation instinct.
Because transforming would let him protect himself better, his instincts kicked in at this moment.
In the end, Peter forcibly suppressed the urge.
After all, he didn't want to make an enemy out of this mysterious "Bounty Hunter."
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