One night after seven days.

It couldn't be regarded as unusually lively, but there were not many people outside.

Because of the alien invasion, coupled with the exaggerated propaganda of various religious groups, most people in New York now even believe that ghosts might exist in this world.

Therefore, at night—except for crowded places like bars—few people could be seen on the streets.

This was convenient for Blaine.

At home, he put on the hunter suit.

The +25 hunter suit was obviously completely different from the previous +10.

One Word: Powerful.

After that, he strapped Cursed Blood around his waist, hidden beneath his coat, while still carrying the elemental bow across his back.

He sat cross-legged.

Taking out a tracking paper crane from the hunter's space, he focused his mental strength and pictured Madame Gao's face in his mind.

The paper crane instantly came alive and flew in a certain direction.

Most of the night passed.

The paper crane had already flown across half the U.S.

Blaine frowned slightly as he glanced at the current direction.

Was this leading toward China?

His mouth twitched.

It was true that Madame Gao often traveled back and forth between New York and China.

Now it seemed the old woman was returning there.

Blaine shook his head and forcibly cut off contact with the paper crane.

Go all the way to China just to hunt down Madame Gao?

Forget it—someone else could teach that old woman a lesson.

What's more, Blaine also knew of another lead in New York.

At present, only two tracking paper cranes remained, which was enough.

Taking out another from the hunter's space, Blaine began to use it to locate a different person.

Soon.

The tracking paper crane moved.

It crossed Queens.

Then came to Brooklyn.

Finally, it stopped at a school.

This school wasn't an ordinary place of study, but a martial arts school. Inside were training equipment, and many weapons had been detected through the paper crane's vision.

For example: katanas and throwing darts used by ninjas.

This school was clearly no ordinary institution.

The paper crane slowly dissipated into glowing specks.

Blaine opened his eyes, a gleam of coldness flashing in them. Pulling up his hood, he made his way toward the school.

The night sky was clear, with stars scattered sparsely.

Blaine soon arrived in Brooklyn.

Speaking of which, this was his first time here.

Since coming to the Marvel world, he had either been in Queens or Manhattan.

Brooklyn—on the southeast side of Manhattan Island—was the most populous borough of New York City, yet he had never set foot in it before. What he knew came only from memory.

He approached a school that seemed ordinary and inconspicuous, the same place the paper crane had led him.

Don't be fooled by appearances.

This was a stronghold of the Hand in New York.

They specially adopted street teenagers, provided food and shelter, and taught martial arts.

Sounds benevolent, right?

But the real purpose was to train these teens into secret operatives of the Hand.

The Hand ran schools like this across the globe. That's why they had spies everywhere—their recruits came straight from institutions like this.

This wasn't a public school, and almost all its students were former street kids. Even during the seven-day break, they remained here.

Blaine avoided the student dormitory and came to a nondescript room.

He knocked lightly on the door.

Knock.

There was a rustling sound inside, as if someone were hastily putting on clothes.

Not long after, the door opened.

A man appeared in the doorway.

He was middle-aged, with a thick beard, dressed casually—a black coat over a wrinkled white shirt, clearly just thrown on.

He leaned on a gentleman's cane. There was nothing unusual about his appearance; he merely looked like an ordinary uncle. But beneath that exterior was the aura of a jackal—dangerous and predatory.

"How did you find this place?" the man asked, his eyes narrowing at Blaine.

"I don't think you need to know," Blaine replied casually.

He definitely knew who stood before him.

His name was Bakuto.

He was Colleen Wing's former master and the administrator of this school—one of the Five Fingers of the Hand. An immortal who had escaped Kunlun, Bakuto was also the most skilled swordsman among them.

"I also don't think you need to wear your hood," Bakuto shrugged with a faint smile. "The other old ones would never imagine that the bounty hunter who's been making waves lately is just a teenage high school student. I can already picture their faces when they hear it—utterly shocked."

"Much more than that could surprise you."

Blaine shook his head. "Knowing too much isn't always a good thing."

"I understand that," Bakuto replied evenly. "But sometimes, not knowing feels like a stone pressing on your heart."

"Just like you so-called immortals, who survive only by stealing the dragon bones from Kunlun?"

A sneer tugged at Blaine's lips.

What he despised most was watching villains act superior in front of him.

At this, Bakuto's expression hardened. A glint of danger flickered in his eyes, like a wolf locking onto prey.

The Five Fingers of the Hand.

In truth, they were all traitors who had defected from Kunlun—stealing dragon bones to prolong their lives.

They had survived for centuries this way.

But deep down, they knew it was a false immortality. The life stolen from the bones would eventually run out.

Still, that truth buried deep in their hearts didn't make hearing it aloud any less painful.

Bakuto, who had witnessed centuries of empires rising and falling, now looked genuinely unsettled.

Anything else he could tolerate.

But not this.

"How do you know?" Bakuto asked darkly. "About Kunlun. About the bones."

"If I could find this place, then naturally I could find out about you."

Blaine shook his head, drawing the cursed blade from his waist and levelling it directly at Bakuto. "I've wasted enough words. I came here to test myself against the so-called Master Swordsman of the Hand. I won't use any other abilities—just swordsmanship."

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