"Create as much chaos as possible—the more chaos, the better."
"Okay, action."
The few of them were also very straightforward, explaining the jailbreak in just a few sentences. In other words, this group of so-called Guardians of the Galaxy—if it were anyone else, they would have spent at least ten days or half a month planning it in advance.
"I am Groot—!"
The tree-man shouted loudly, and the escape operation officially began.
Next, with Blaine's participation, the entire prison was thrown into turmoil. Gamora was the only one truly in charge of suppressing the prison. As expected of someone trained by the Thanos, her combat effectiveness was more than enough to deal with these ordinary aliens. Perhaps this was the prison's confidence—their capital for being so lax.
It took only three minutes for the group to seize control of the prison's control room. However, because Xandar's surveillance system and law enforcement efficiency were extremely high, streams of Nova Corps officers kept rushing into the prison trying to suppress the riot.
"Everything's here."
"Mm-hmm."
"No problem."
"Perfect. Next, we just wait for the flight controller."
Counting Blaine, Rocket, Groot, Gamora, Quill, and the prisoner who had just joined the fight and called himself "Drax the Destroyer".
This guy also harbored deep hatred toward Ronan. His entire family had been slaughtered by Ronan. In order to seek revenge, he was pulled into the team as well.
As for Ronan, the moment Blaine heard the name, he knew exactly who it was.
At the same time, an image immediately popped into his mind: an ugly face with even uglier makeup, holding a massive hammer.
Ronan was a man clad in black armor wielding a warhammer. He had pledged allegiance to the Thanos early on. He seemed to be a radical extremist from Kree Race, the deadly rival of the Xandar. The two civilizations had been at war for nearly three thousand years, yet Ronan still refused to give up and continued to plot the destruction of Xandar.
The bounty must have been issued by this man. He was the one who put the price on Quill's head, and Gamora had also been sent by Thanos to assist him. What Ronan hadn't expected—and what the Purple Potato probably hadn't anticipated either—was that Gamora would end up teaming up with the very target they were hunting: Quill.
Then—
"Well, metal prosthetics work too."
Quill casually tossed the metal prosthetic leg in front of Rocket.
"Oh my God! Did you really get this?"
"Oh? What do you mean, really?"
"This metal leg is completely useless!"
"All we needed was the electronic access-control bracelet and this."
"Wait—what? Why didn't you say that earlier?"
"I was just joking. I didn't expect you to actually get it."
"You didn't seriously see that old guy with no leg—"
"Isn't it hilarious how he hops around on one leg? Hahahahaha!"
Not only did the raccoon burst into laughter, but even Blaine couldn't help laughing when he imagined the scene. The Guardians of the Galaxy truly lived up to their reputation—constantly messing with each other. It seemed that the only one who could truly rein in Quill was this little raccoon.
Just as everyone was chatting and laughing, Rocket and Groot's flight controller arrived at the designated location.
As for Quill's own spacecraft? It was probably still impounded by his adoptive father, the space pirate Yondu, who called himself a Ravager.
Blaine recalled the plot. After separating from him last time, Quill had realized the true value of the metal sphere in his hand—the Orb containing the Power Stone—and decided to part ways with Yondu. He had no intention of listening to Yondu's advice to hand it over, choosing instead to sell the stolen goods himself.
What he hadn't expected was that not only did Yondu want the Orb, but even Ronan had also put out a bounty for it. As a result, when the buyer heard about Ronan's involvement, he immediately shut his doors and kicked Quill out. After that came his encounter with Gamora, then Rocket and Groot—and finally, they all met in prison.
"Alright, we've got the stuff."
"Let's go."
Rocket slung a machine gun—completely disproportionate to his size—over his shoulder and strode forward first, carrying himself like the unquestioned leader of the team.
In any case, Blaine's plan was to play dumb and strike hard later. Since no one else said anything, he followed the group without comment.
What followed was a straightforward breakout. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they dropped one guard after another, shot down flight sentries, and pushed straight through.
The six of them were like an armored vehicle, crushing everything in their path. Even Blaine hadn't expected the jailbreak to be this easy. Was this simply how the world of the strong worked?
The escape was a success. The ship was parked outside, and Rocket piloted them away, flying off in a clean, decisive arc without even looking back—utterly domineering.
Gamora had already decided on the destination before Blaine ever joined them. Blaine also knew of this place, though he didn't know its exact coordinates—only what kind of place it was.
It belonged to someone in the universe who was obsessed with collecting all kinds of strange objects, known across the cosmos as the Collector.
It was also an extremely remote planet, with an atmosphere similar to a black market on Earth. The inhabitants were a chaotic mix—not only trading weapons and drugs, but even people themselves could become commodities.
Blaine was actually quite curious about such a place. Maybe he could find something useful for himself there, perhaps even replenish supplies in the Hunter Space.
He didn't know how much time had passed. At some point, Blaine had completely lost his sense of time.
They finally arrived at the planet where the Collector resided. It was indeed much like Blaine had imagined. Shrouded in dim light, the planet was nearly dying from overexploitation. Its size probably wasn't much larger than the Moon. Yet its surface was crammed with bizarre structures, buildings stacked ring upon ring, pressed tightly together.
After landing, Blaine realized that although the planet was small, it was incredibly lively. The decadence and revelry here were nothing like the red-light districts of Earth.
Blaine walked straight toward the tallest building at the farthest point, following the team's leader—Gamora. That villa, if he wasn't mistaken, was the Collector's residence.
Because all of his attention was focused on the Power Stone in Quill's possession, Blaine didn't even spare a thought for whether there was anything else here he might need.
Beneath the villa, it seemed someone already knew they were coming. A maid had been sent out in advance to greet them, her appearance fairly respectable.
In truth, Blaine had no interest in such superficial details. One could even say he wasn't curious at all. As a traveler, he couldn't predict everything that was about to happen—but based on the plot, it wasn't hard to guess how things would unfold.
Like what was about to happen next.
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