Then suddenly it felt as if a tremendous force struck his body. Before he could react, he was flung upward uncontrollably, and a searing pain exploded in his head.
At the moment Blaine had no idea how far he'd run. The attack wasn't meant to punish injustice—Blaine didn't run for that. He had been running to test something. Now, looking back, the result matched what he'd expected: when someone moves at super-high speed and quietly transfers force to a stationary object, that force amplifies geometrically.
Think of a high-speed train at full throttle—if you step too close on the platform, the airflow will suck you toward the track and shred you. The same principle applied here.
He was already moving incredibly fast, but Blaine hadn't reached his limit. Gritting his teeth, he pushed harder; it felt as if his speed doubled. A ring of black lines formed around the air barrier encasing him and widened—signs that space itself was beginning to tear.
Blaine dared not let his anger out; he forced himself to push more. He could already make out starlight through the fissure. No matter how fast he went, time seemed to hang suspended.
His legs went numb; his upper body sagged. The scenery around him blurred and fell away. For a moment he felt as if he'd stepped into a strange, wondrous place.
Not yet fully through—something mysterious blocked him: the speed threshold.
"It looks like I'm still a step behind Quicksilver and those legendary speedsters..." he muttered.
Those masters could break barriers and span time and space; they'd already passed the threshold. Blaine had touched it, but the barrier between him and them felt vast.
He lost track of how long he'd been running. Running flat-out, he'd blurred time itself. He was lucky to be wearing a Hunter suit—without it, he'd never have reached this level. This speed was pure physical output; the suit's protection had made it possible, and that gave him some peace of mind.
Joining the Hunter system had only been the starting point. He still had a long way to go.
"Canada, here we come—in three minutes."
"There's still a gap from Quicksilver's ninety-two seconds around the world," Blaine said with a hint of regret.
"Now that we're here, let's get down to business. Eighty billion"
He was about to surge the final ten kilometers toward Electro. In three minutes, Electro had moved only a few miles.
Then, in the next second, Blaine noticed something was wrong. His legs felt off—out of his control. The black legs of his Hunter suit had darkened with red.
He rolled his pant leg up. The capillaries across his thighs were seeping blood.
"Damn it. Only one-eighth of a divine body and it still can't take the tearing of space," he cursed.
After a few seconds the suit's self-healing kicked in. Blaine took deep breaths; his long legs knitted and felt stronger than before.
"The outside's built to take a beating, but the insides are still fragile. I'll have to reinforce them when I get back."
He grimaced at the thought of becoming a walking wreck on the inside—imagining a taunting voice saying, "sister-in-law, I'm in your belly" made him shiver.
"Who are you—" Electro demanded, mid-charge toward the next nuclear plant, startled to find someone suddenly blocking him. Electro had just absorbed a plant; he felt confident.
"The one who wants to kill you," Blaine said without preamble.
"I have no quarrel with you—"
"Using people's money to sweep away disasters—" Blaine's voice cut cold. He drew the Cursed Blood Knife. With one hand he slashed across his own chest and lunged at the Electro.
Electro didn't flinch. He clasped his hands and clamped down on the Cursed Blood Knife.
"Hmph."
Electro had underestimated the curse carried in the blade. When he gripped it, a thin white smoke curled up; arcs of energy crackled wildly. One hundred million volts could not simply overwhelm that knife.
"Poison?" the Electro realized instantly and let go.
Whoever Blaine was, he moved like a top-tier martial artist—someone who could wield every fighting technique like an extra limb.
When Electro unclenched, a fist landed at his chest before he could react.
"So fast… you dared come close. It looks like you want a funeral—"
Blaine didn't waste words. He tightened his grip on the weapon in his other hand, a tiny surge of strength adding force to the strike. Under the brim of his hat, the corner of his mouth lifted. "Brute man, huh? Come taste the fist of a reckless man."
Electro released the Cursed Blood Knife; Blaine's punch had already arrived. In a reflex, Electro cross-armed to block.
Boom.
A dull shockwave knocked the Electro backward.
"What—why aren't you shocked?" he wondered. In Electro's mind, the man in black should have been stunned; instead Electro was the one sent flying.
Blaine snorted. "I'm not even afraid of Thor's lightning. Your power's not enough for me."
"I'll kill you—" Electro snarled. Blue lightning flashed; the ground ignited. In the same instant, Blaine materialized in front of him.
"You can't outrun speed with flashes of light," he said, amused. At first glance it seemed Electro intended to match him with bursts of lightning. Blaine only grew more entertained—he felt like he was catching up to time itself.
"Break—"
Puff.
"What—afterimage? When did—"
Blaine advanced slowly, and while moving he threw another punch.
"You're too slow," he said.
"Fuck—! Fuck—! Fuck—!" Electro lost his composure, wild fists flailing and falling into chaos. He couldn't fathom how anyone in the world could be faster than electricity.
Reality, however, was cruel. Blaine toyed with the Electro king like a cat with a mouse.
"I thought you wanted to race me," Blaine said. "Shame. You're going to die... you corpse."
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