The green giant's body was covered in scars, his bulging green muscles mottled with black patches. But this didn't make him weaker—if anything, it made him look even more powerful and ferocious.
Seeing the big green man suddenly charge toward him, Harry didn't dare waste time pulling Betty Ross fully onto the flying skateboard. He just threw all his strength into forcing the board upward.
But the next moment, Harry knew it was futile.
As the battered Hulk leapt into the air, the torn skin across his whole body rapidly healed, smooth and intact once again. Harry saw it clearly—because by then, the Hulk had already jumped right up to his level.
With a roar, he grabbed Betty Ross with one massive hand and swung the other, slamming Harry and the flying skateboard away in a single swipe.
Harry crouched down, gripping the edges of the board tightly. He spun more than a dozen times through the air before he finally managed to stabilize himself.
"Dr. Carl's going to be busy fixing this," Harry muttered, eyeing the nearly flattened flying skateboard.
As he descended, his gaze swept the area until it caught sight of the hulking green figure below. The giant jumped high again, then crashed down, and after a few more leaps, disappeared among the surrounding buildings—out of Harry's sight.
At that moment, General Ross climbed down from the command vehicle, his face seething with anger.
"Mr. Osborn, he took my daughter—"
"Yes, General, your daughter was taken by him," Harry cut in flatly before Ross could finish.
"But what's that got to do with me? There was nothing about your daughter in our deal. And by the way, you never gave me what you promised before, and I just lost a flying skateboard worth tens of millions of dollars." Harry stepped right up to Ross, meeting his glare with a blunt, unflinching tone.
After that, he stepped onto his battered board and rose into the air, heading back the way he came. As he crossed over the ruined lawn, a red dot flashed on the map displayed in his mask.
"Ding."
At the soft chime, a grin spread across Harry's face beneath the mask.
"Got it," he thought, then shot straight into the sky.
"Damn it!" General Ross slammed his fist against the command vehicle, his face dark with fury. The soldiers approaching to report casualties froze, too scared to speak.
The once tightly coordinated operation had failed to achieve its goal. Instead, they'd suffered heavy losses—and his own daughter had been taken by that monster. Ross's hatred for the green beast burned even deeper.
...
The damaged flying skateboard's speed had been drastically reduced, and it took Harry three times as long to return as it had to go.
He entered the secret passage leading directly to the underground lab beneath the Osborn Building.
Bang! The flying skateboard hit the floor hard, skidding across the surface with a screech of metal on metal.
Seeing this, Harry quickly jumped off and clung to the ceiling.
Boom! The skateboard finally crashed into a large metal worktable and came to a stop—split cleanly in two.
Dropping down, Harry walked over to inspect the wreckage.
"Harry!" Dr. Carl rushed out of his lab the moment he heard the noise. Seeing Harry, he hurried forward. "Harry, did you get the giant's sample?"
"Of course," Harry said, pointing toward the broken board.
The shining blade embedded in the skateboard had been Dr. Carl's design, so he instantly understood. He flipped over one of the halves and saw the broken knife still magnetically locked to it.
"Good thing you added tracking and magnetic recovery," Harry said as he opened a ceiling hatch to remove his armor. "Otherwise that sample would've been lost in the fire."
Dr. Carl wasn't listening. Ever since reading the Hulk research files Harry had given him, he'd been consumed with curiosity—wanting to know what kind of mutation could turn a mild-mannered professor into a raging green monster.
"Doctor, you can study this sample," Harry warned, "but don't use it for human experiments." He knew just how dangerous Hulk's blood was.
"I know," Dr. Carl replied, looking up from the blood in the hilt. "I'm a scientist, Harry. A scholar. All I seek in this world is knowledge." He chuckled lightly. "I'm not a mad scientist."
"Good," Harry said, relaxing slightly.
...
Later, Harry took the elevator up to his office. He found Felicia reviewing documents and leaned silently against the doorway, watching her.
After a while, Felicia finally finished, stretched her arms above her head, and noticed him.
"Harry, when did you get back?" she asked, walking around the desk toward him.
"Just now. I wasn't slacking off, I promise," Harry said with a grin, opening his arms to embrace her.
Felicia fell into his arms, her hands instinctively checking him over. After a thorough inspection, she finally relaxed when she found no injuries.
"You're okay… thank God," Felicia said, her voice trembling slightly. She wasn't the kind of woman who liked danger. She'd only become a thief because Kingpin had held her father's life over her. Since learning of her father's death, all she'd wanted was peace. Harry had given her warmth—whether from gratitude or something deeper, she wasn't sure—but she just wanted him safe.
"I'll be fine," Harry said confidently, tightening his arms around her.
"Yes," she murmured
Just then, Harry's stomach growled, breaking the tender moment.
Felicia laughed and gently pushed him away. "Come on, let's eat. You skipped breakfast this morning. Now you know what hunger feels like."
Harry smiled. "Yeah… It's nice having someone who cares."
...
To fill his stomach, Harry drove Felicia to a Chinese restaurant. He'd missed Chinese food for a while, and Felicia's curiosity gave him an excuse. The two ended up in Chinatown.
Thanks to Harry's fluent Chinese, the chef agreed to cook them a proper traditional meal.
...
"How is it? Pretty good, right?" Harry asked, wiping his mouth.
"It's amazing! I've never had such delicious Chinese food," Felicia said, setting down her fork in admiration.
"That's because what you had before wasn't authentic," Harry said, smirking.
"Alright, Mr. Gourmet, I'm full. Let's head back—there's still a pile of company work waiting for you," Felicia said, standing.
"Got it," Harry replied.
...
"Busy lately?" Harry asked as he drove. During the days Felicia was away, he'd handled the company matters himself—not that there were too many. Osborn was a huge group, with decisions spread across multiple levels, so only a few things required his direct input.
"Of course it's busy. Your identity got exposed," Felicia said, giving him a side-eye.
"What does that have to do with more work?" Harry asked, confused.
"It's about your armor and flying skateboard. The military came again today."
"I already denied it."
"That was before this morning. The missing Stark Industries Playboy came back and held a press conference—announcing he's shutting down Stark's weapons division. The military's furious. Since you rejected them before, they've come back harder this time," Felicia explained.
"Tony Stark?" Harry asked.
"That's him," Felicia confirmed.
"Interesting…" Harry's curiosity was piqued. He'd always been intrigued by Iron Man—and his armor—so meeting him could be useful.
"Did we get any invitations for tonight?" Harry asked, recalling the Iron Man timeline.
"Huh?" Felicia blinked. Harry never liked social events. But seeing he didn't intend to explain, she didn't press further. "There's just one—it's in California, too far from New York. I was going to send it back. A charity event for the Firefighters' Family Fund in Los Angeles. Why? You want to go?"
"Yes," Harry said. As he thought, perfect timing. Otherwise, he'd have to go through extra trouble tracking Stark down.
"And the military?" Felicia asked.
Harry grinned, turning the wheel sharply. "They won't mind waiting till tomorrow."
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