Become a Homelander and a Marvel superstar

But Scott was no longer the helpless lamb to the slaughter he had been moments before.

The instinct for survival and the street fighting skills he learned in prison were fully unleashed at this moment.

"Go to hell!"

Scott roared and, instead of running away, charged straight at the lead mercenary.

To catch the thief, first catch the king!

He was less than two meters away from the team leader, and in one stride he rushed in front of him.

Before the leader could even change his magazine, Scott had already thrown a punch straight for his liver.

Just as Scott threw his punch.

The pendant on his chest seemed to sense his intention to attack.

The metal, now resembling mercury, surged again, instantly covering Scott's right fist and arm, forming a heavy gauntlet with a metallic sheen.

"Bang—!!!"

Scott's punch landed squarely on the lead mercenary's abdomen.

The heavily armed mercenary was over 1.9 meters tall and weighed 180 kilograms.

Scott's punch sent him flying through the air, his feet leaving the ground!

With a loud "boom," it crashed heavily through the wooden wall behind it, coughed up a mouthful of blood, and passed out on the spot without even uttering a sound.

The remaining two mercenaries were dumbfounded.

What kind of thief could send a fully armed mercenary flying ten meters with a single punch?!

Did we run into Walter's city heroes?

Scott himself was startled. He looked at the glowing silver gauntlet on his right hand and felt the terrifying power that punch had just unleashed.

"What...is this thing?"

But now is not the time to explore this issue.

Suddenly, sirens blared outside, piercing the entire villa.

The police outside could burst in at any moment.

"Louis! Start the car! I'm coming out!" Scott shouted.

He didn't try to retrieve the backpack containing the Ant-Man suit; to Scott, it was just an old motorcycle suit.

Escaping was his top priority; he didn't want to go back to prison.

The metal handguard on his right fist shrank back into a pendant.

Scott darted out of the window and over the courtyard wall with the agility of a cheetah.

In the darkness, the bread truck hidden under the shade of the trees had already started up, its doors open.

Scott plunged headfirst into the bread truck.

"Drive! Get out of here!"

"Roger that! Dude! Buckle up!"

Louis floored the accelerator, the tires screeching as they sped off into the San Francisco night like an arrow.

The battle suit was stolen.

The successor he had carefully chosen abandoned his armor and ran away.

"Darren..." Old Pym clenched his fists, his eyes flashing with anger and worry. The situation had completely spiraled out of his control.

……

San Francisco, a sophisticated Michelin three-star French restaurant.

The melodious sound of a violin flowed through the air.

Azu and Hope's dinner drew to a close in a very pleasant atmosphere.

Azu displayed all the qualities of a charming man: humor, wit, erudition, and impeccable listening skills. Every word he spoke and every glance he gave precisely struck a chord with Hope.

Hope gently swirled the red wine in her glass, her gaze somewhat unfocused as she looked at the man sitting opposite her.

She didn't want to admit it, but she had to face her own heart. Her heart, which had been dormant for many years, had indeed been moved by this man she had only known for less than a day.

After dinner, Azu drove Hope to her upstairs apartment building.

The sports car slowly came to a stop.

A brief silence fell over the carriage, broken only by the soft hum of the engine idling.

"Thank you for dinner, Daniel. It was a very... perfect evening." Hope turned to look at Azu's profile, which appeared even more captivating in the dim light inside the car.

"That's exactly what I wanted to say, Hope. Thank you for keeping me company tonight." Azu smiled slightly, responding to her with a lingering look.

Silence fell again inside the car, an ambiguous feeling permeating the small space.

"Daniel," Hope's voice trembled slightly, "if you're not in a hurry...would you like to come upstairs for a drink?"

In the adult world, the implications of this highly suggestive invitation are self-evident.

Looking into her expectant eyes, Azu's smile deepened.

"It would be my great honor."

The two took the elevator to Hope's luxurious penthouse apartment.

The apartment features a minimalist and modern design, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows offering stunning views of the San Francisco Bay Area at night.

Hope took off her high heels, walked barefoot to the bar, took out two crystal glasses, and poured a little Macallan whiskey.

She carried two glasses of wine to the living room and handed one to Ah Zu.

"Cheers, to our acquaintance." Hope raised her glass.

"For you." Ah Zu clinked glasses with her.

The two walked to the sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and sat down.

As alcohol took effect, the conversation gradually shifted from business and technology to personal preferences, life, and even deeper emotions.

The two hit it off as they talked, and their distance between them grew closer without them even realizing it.

Hope smelled the addictive scent on Azu and felt her mouth go dry.

She downed half a glass of wine in one gulp, her cheeks flushing an alluring red.

"Are you always this perfect, Daniel?" Hope, emboldened by the alcohol, looked boldly at him. "You always seem to know what to say and what to do."

"That's because I'm facing you, Hope." Azu lowered his head slightly, leaning close to her ear, "You deserve the most perfect treatment."

Hope's heart suddenly raced, and she tilted her head back slightly.

Their eyes met, and the air crackled as if electricity was streaming through them.

Azu leaned forward slowly, and Hope closed her eyes, slightly raised her chin, and her rosy lips trembled slightly.

Their breaths mingled, and Azu's hands were ready to climb to the top.

Just as their lips were about to touch.

"Buzz—Buzz—Buzz—"

A sudden, urgent phone vibration shattered the extremely ambiguous atmosphere.

Hope suddenly opened her eyes, her body jerking back as if electrocuted, and she frantically grabbed her phone from the coffee table.

She intended to hang up immediately, but when she caught a glimpse of the incoming caller ID on the screen, her expression changed slightly.

"It's my father." Hope looked at Azu apologetically. "He rarely calls me at this time."

"Answer it, it might be urgent." Ah Zu leaned back on the sofa and nodded understandingly.

Hope slides to answer the call.

"Hope! Where are you now?!" Hank Pym's anxious, even panicked voice came through the receiver.

"I'm home. What's wrong, Father?" Hope stood up, her brow furrowed.

"Something's happened! Hope! You have to go back to the old house right away!"

"What's the matter that you're in such a panic?" Hope asked calmly.

"We'll talk about it when we get back! It's not convenient right now." Old Pym's tone was extremely heavy.

"Okay, I'll be right there."