"The Hulk is, of course, one of our creations." Ross was quite pleased with the shock on Blonsky's face, but the thought of Banner still at large made him grit his teeth in frustration.
"As long as we find that green guy, I promise not only can we cure your degeneration, but we can give you power, speed, and defense beyond any creature—or Transformer."
Just thinking about the Hulk in the video, completely unfazed by bullets and even RPGs, Blonsky couldn't help but feel a surge of burning desire.
"Where is this Dr. Bruce Banner?"
"I don't know," Ross shook his head. "That guy has been missing from the lab for nearly five months. The only thing we're sure of is that he's no longer in the States.
So I'm giving you the highest level of authorization. Go find Banner—for me and for yourself."
"By any means necessary?" Blonsky probed.
"Of course. As long as the result doesn't come back to bite me." Ross handed him a piece of paper with a number on it. "This is the contact for the CIA's South America bureau chief.
When Banner escaped, we secretly locked down all airports, so the most likely scenario is that he went to South America. You might have some luck checking the slums."
Blonsky rolled his eyes. He knew well enough that places like Rio's Rocinha favela were just the tip of the iceberg. Counting other cities, other countries, and all their rundown areas, finding someone would be like hunting a needle in a haystack. If Banner had hidden himself in Cuba, even with a ton of money, hiring local underworld fixers might not be enough—otherwise Ross wouldn't be so helpless himself.
Ross signed an official authorization form and dismissed him. With that, Blonsky set off on his search for his destined nemesis.
Meanwhile, back in London, William was attending the funeral of the five unfortunate Kingsman members who had fallen in battle—his first time facing casualties since taking over the organization.
Before facing the grieving widows and children, William felt no guilt about having held back his strength, leaving others to face life and death. But standing before the graves, hearing the cries and prayers, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.
That is, until he saw bearded Harry Potter and the freckled Hermione Granger in the crowd. That guilt evaporated instantly. A few dead Kingsman members? If necessary, William would send the entire organization to their deaths without hesitation.
He waved his hand and pointed to Harry and Hermione. Over a hundred funeral attendees—members of the rapid response team—immediately sent six men to block the pair, surrounding them in a sharp triangular formation and locking their eyes on them.
"Bastard," Hermione muttered under her breath, furious. She tried to argue with the guards, but Harry grabbed her arm.
"Don't make a scene. Even if you're upset, we can't interfere with the funeral."
His words not only calmed Hermione, but also made the six guards ease their expressions slightly.
All five burials took place on the same day, and of course it wasn't a quick process. The entire morning passed.
It wasn't until nearly 1 p.m. that the funerals ended. Harry and Hermione were finally allowed to approach William.
At the side of a black Phantom sedan, William, seated in the back, rolled down the window and said,
"Tell the Minister of Magic: Devonshire Castle and the 35,000 acres of land surrounding it are my private domain. If any of you dare trespass again, it won't just end with your people being dumped at the Ministry's doorstep."
Then William raised the staff in his hand—formerly the Decepticon Fallen's scepter—and knocked on the driver's seat.
"Drive."
"Wait! Mr. Devonshire, please wait!" Harry quickly placed a hand on the door.
"We just want to know why so many Thunderbirds have appeared near Oxford Castle. Are you raising them?"
Finally, the question William had been waiting for. He smiled and replied,
"Not only am I raising them, they're all my magically contracted beasts. Satisfied now, Mr. Potter?"
"Co-Contracted beasts? Dozens of Thunderbirds?" Hermione asked in shock.
"How is that possible? Even searching all of their natural habitats, you wouldn't find that many!"
"To be exact, seventy-six adult Thunderbirds. And in a few years, that number will probably surpass a hundred."
Never mind a hundred—just seventy-six was already enough to leave Harry and Hermione speechless.
Historically, a single Thunderbird appearing in the human world could throw the entire magical community into panic.
They feared such majestic creatures, patrons of the sky and lightning, might be provoked into harming civilians. Even worse, that an ill-intentioned yet lucky wizard might tame one, disrupting the balance of the magical world.
But now someone told them that a single wizard had formed magical contracts with seventy-six adult Thunderbirds?
How could they believe that? And how could they dare believe it?
If it was true, William wouldn't even need to lift a finger—the Thunderbirds alone could wipe out the entire British Ministry of Magic. With their lightning, they could plunge all of England into darkness and fear.
Harry finally recovered and asked nervously,
"Where... where exactly did you tame so many adult Thunderbirds?"
"Do I need to report my actions to you?" William said coldly.
Though they wanted to say "yes," the overwhelming magical pressure radiating from William—like a mountain—made them shut their mouths.
Only now did Hermione truly understand why Harry was so cautious and hesitant around William.
She also finally realized why the Ministry's old fogeys hadn't dared come meet William themselves. This wasn't some kind of training opportunity for her and Harry—those cowards simply didn't dare face him.
As William's car drove off, Hermione flushed with anger, spun on her heel, and marched toward her own vehicle—clearly intending to confront the Ministry's leadership herself.
Back at the Devonshire Estate, William saw from a distance that the RV he had given to Odin was parked right on the main road. The old man had clearly not gone on vacation with his wife, and was instead lounging around in public view, letting tabloid reporters and pedestrians photograph him.
William had the driver stop the car by the roadside and used his mental powers to scan the RV—only to find Odin alone inside.
That puzzled William and gave him a sense that something was definitely wrong.
And as if he had sensed William's return, Odin—lounging on the roof of the RV, soaking in the sun—stood up, raised his wine glass, and waved at William's car in greeting.
That made it impossible for William to ignore him. He ordered the driver to pull up beside the RV, whereupon the crowd of paparazzi shifted their focus from the RV to surround William's car.
After dealing with a barrage of questions from the reporters, William finally reached the RV—and the door automatically opened.
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