"I didn't expect that after buying the Copy Eyes, not only has my magic improved," Blaine mused, "but even my thinking feels sharper. I feel… changed. Wiser."
He thought back to everything that had happened—the wings added to his flight ability, the shockwave that could stop time, and the elemental magic circle he'd just created. All of it seemed tied to the Copy Eyes.
Blaine couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. Was this what it felt like to be a genius? So this is how top students feel—brilliant, capable, invincible. Not bad at all.
Two days later, Blaine finally stirred from his long rest.
He'd been staying in Stark Tower ever since completing the Ultron mission. The accommodations were luxurious—five-star meals, high-tech quarters—but no matter how grand the nest, it never beat the comfort of one's own home.
As soon as he returned, he devoured some quick food, washed up, and collapsed into bed. The moment he closed his eyes, an entire day and night vanished.
By the time the world had settled, news spread that the green giant, Hulk, had flown into space alone aboard a spacecraft—something Blaine only learned about afterward. He also heard that Captain America had begun training a new generation of heroes: Vision, the Winter Soldier, Falcon, and others—recharging and preparing for what lay ahead.
Blaine snorted at that. "Preparing for the next time we save the Earth? Nonsense. They're gearing up for the Civil War."
After sleeping for so long, it was time for a shower.
As he brushed his teeth, Blaine's reflection stared back thoughtfully. "The Mind Stone has appeared… then the war for the Infinity Gems can't be far off."
While Blaine pondered in his mirror, somewhere in the depths of space, a colossal figure stood shrouded in golden light.
Clad in full golden armor, the being was nearly four meters tall—towering, muscular, every inch radiating power. Beneath his gleaming helmet, his face was furrowed with deep lines, his massive chin ridged and grim.
That unmistakable purple visage belonged to none other than Thanos, the Mad Titan.
Expressionless, he reached forward and grasped a massive golden glove—crafted perfectly to fit his enormous hand, as if forged for him alone. It was the Infinity Gauntlet.
For now, it bore no gems.
Of course, Blaine knew nothing of this yet.
After washing up, Blaine pulled out some long-missed bread and jam from the fridge. Whoever invented the combination deserved a medal—it never got old. Even when it did, a little break made it feel new again.
The TV droned in the background, broadcasting the latest news.
The hottest topic across America was still the Sokovia explosion from two days ago, followed by reports of the city's destruction caused by the Hulk.
In Washington D.C., tens of thousands had gathered in front of the White House to protest.
Placards waved high: '"Superheroes Out of America!"' '"They're the Real Destroyers!"' '"For Earth's Peace—Abolish Superhero Rights!"' and other slogans condemning the Avengers.
It seemed the public had turned against them.
Defending justice with all their hearts, only to be hated in return.
It was unlikely anyone would be seeing Tony or Steve in public anytime soon.
After watching the news, Blaine leaned back with a sigh. His task was done, and he wasn't a superhero—so none of this concerned him.
Bills, negotiations, political maneuvering—those weren't his problems. Blaine fought, killed, and got paid. Unless someone wanted him to assassinate a lawyer or politician, he had no reason to get involved. He'd leave the bureaucratic nonsense to Fury.
Originally, Blaine had planned to go back to school. It had been ages since he'd last set foot there, and he missed the atmosphere. He even wondered how little Spider-Man was doing—had the kid gotten stronger? Queens was probably a mess after Ultron, and Blaine hadn't seen Spider-Man in that fight.
He thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. School sounded boring. Staying home sounded better.
The local golf courses, bowling alleys, horseback trails—he'd done them all to death. None of it interested him anymore. The only thing that still held any appeal was the grilled horse meat from that big, chubby chef downtown.
So, games it was. Time to play 'King of Glory'.
After Gali had crushed him last time, Blaine had been determined to reclaim his pride. Fortunately, without that monster around, he quickly regained his rank, dominating the arena thanks to his 'pay-to-win' advantage.
Sure, he was still far from Gali's level, and top players occasionally handed him humiliating defeats—but at least the fun was back.
He played the entire afternoon away before finally stretching, yawning, and letting his fatigue melt away.
Later, he wandered downstairs. The restaurants that had been cleared out during the Ultron crisis had finally reopened, so he grabbed a meal and returned to his room, collapsing into bed once again.
The next morning, his phone's notification tone jolted him awake.
No need to guess—the reward had arrived.
He picked it up and grinned. Tony had made the transfer: fifty-five billion. Generous, but unsurprising—Tony was never short on cash.
By noon, another notification chimed. Fury's payment had finally come through: four hundred eighty billion.
It was late, which meant Fury must've had a rough time getting it approved. That was no surprise—S.H.I.E.L.D. was under fire, and Fury was lucky just to keep his job.
But Blaine didn't care about the politics. The process didn't matter. Only results did.
As long as the money arrived, everything else was secondary.
Fifty-five billion plus four hundred eighty billion—five hundred thirty-five billion total. His Hunter System balance had reached a new record high. With that much, he was likely on the verge of becoming an A-rank Bounty Hunter.
Pure bliss.
The moment the funds hit his account, Blaine's exhaustion vanished. The air felt fresher. The world brighter.
At that point, with billions under his control, he could truly say he'd seen it all. Sitting on a fortune that vast—life had never felt more comfortable.
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