Marvel - The Blood God

Soon, Ulysses and Maverick arrived at a large container. Ulysses signaled his men to open it, but it appeared empty.

"What's this?" Maverick asked with a hint of displeasure.

Meeting Maverick's gaze, Ulysses clapped his hands. Two of his men entered the container and pulled down an inner steel wall. Behind it was a row of neatly stacked transparent jars containing dark blue vibranium ore.

Ulysses picked up a jar and tossed it to Maverick. "Ten kilograms. You can verify it—every gram accounted for."

"Excellent," Maverick replied, inspecting the jar before nodding in satisfaction. He then tossed it to Frank. "This is vibranium, worth $10,000 a gram. It's the hardest metal on Earth—the same material used in Captain America's shield."

Frank caught the jar, eyes widening. "The hardest metal? What are you planning to do with it, Maverick?"

"Forge a weapon that suits me," Maverick said. "With all these armored suits flying around, it's a huge disadvantage not to have something special."

Frank gazed at the vibranium and sighed. "Spending hundreds of millions on a weapon—you rich folks really know how to live."

Maverick chuckled. "What's so unusual about that? Captain America's shield is worth at least $50 million, and he tosses it around like a toy."

"That shield is worth that much?" Frank was stunned. Over fifty million dollars? Captain America's enemies were literally being defeated by money.

"It's that valuable," Maverick confirmed. "I've always wondered why no one tries to run off with his shield."

"Maybe because they can't sell it." Ulysses interjected with a grin. "Maverick, the goods are here. Time to settle up—$100 million."

"Natalie." Maverick called out.

Natalie approached with a laptop. As Maverick transferred the funds, he remarked, "I thought you'd prefer cash."

"We're adapting to the times. Plus, bank transfers are much easier to launder than piles of cash," Ulysses said, amused.

Soon, his phone buzzed. The $100 million had arrived. Overjoyed, Ulysses shook Maverick's hand. "It's a pleasure doing business with you. If you need more in the future, feel free to contact me."

"Rest assured, I will," Maverick replied, signaling to Frank to have the vibranium moved. Next time? Sorry, there won't be a next time.

The transaction went smoothly, leaving Ulysses in high spirits. "It's a shame I always leave right after a deal," he mused. "Otherwise, I'd love to have a drink and maybe place a big bet with you."

Despite selling vibranium for over a decade, Ulysses remained poor due to his gambling habit—a common pitfall for many smugglers who burn through money as quickly as they earn it.

Maverick responded casually, "Drinking is fine, but gambling isn't necessary. Even Tony Stark can't beat me when he cheats."

"Hearing that makes me want to gamble with you even more. Funny how that works," Ulysses said, intrigued. "Next time, I'll bring some gear, and we'll have a proper game."

"Then I suppose I'll save a lot of money next time. Until then, Mr. Klaw," Maverick said with a smile.

Once Frank and the others finished loading the vibranium, Maverick waved and departed with his team.

"Let's move out," he instructed.

As soon as they left, Ulysses began his own retreat. He was always cautious in his dealings; otherwise, he wouldn't still be alive.

Vibranium—who wouldn't be envious?

Traveling by car, plane, and boat, Ulysses spent most of the day returning to his base, the Churchill—a ship where he hid the bulk of his vibranium.

"Finally, I can relax. Let's celebrate tonight." Ulysses sighed with relief. He was so pleased that he didn't notice the unwelcome stowaway he'd brought along.

In the dead of night, the stowaway awakened and silently exited Ulysses' body—a drop of blood Maverick had slipped into him earlier.

The drop of blood transformed into Maverick, now clad in an Ant-Man suit. "All right, I'm back in control," he said, satisfied. His sensing abilities had improved significantly over the past few months, thanks to absorbing blood and dragon bones.

This wasn't just any drop of blood; it was a third of Maverick's essence. Even from such a distance, he could sense it and transfer his consciousness. The remaining two-thirds of his body was in a deep sleep, operating on basic instincts—a breakthrough he hadn't yet achieved.

Without wasting time, Maverick flew up to search the ship for vibranium—his flight wasn't a feature of the Ant-Man suit but his own ability.

Soon, he found the vibranium hidden beneath the cargo hold. Disabling the surveillance systems, he used Pym particles to shrink hundreds of kilograms of vibranium into his pocket.

With the vibranium secured, Maverick didn't leave immediately to avoid suspicion. Instead, he used the Purple Man virus to discreetly control Ulysses' men, inciting them to rebel.

Caught off guard, Ulysses fled the Churchill on a speedboat with a few loyalists, vowing to eliminate the traitors.

Unbeknownst to him, the rebels soon committed suicide, and Maverick sank the ship to the depths.

The plan wasn't perfect, but when is crime ever flawless? As long as they didn't suspect Pym particles, it didn't matter if they considered vampires.

I orchestrated your men's betrayal and then eliminated them—what's wrong with that?

After wrapping things up, Maverick returned to the casino. His flying speed was incredible; before dawn, he had rejoined the rest of his body.

"All done. Just made another billion," Maverick said, sitting up in bed with a satisfied nod. Then he smirked. "S.H.I.E.L.D. will probably start hunting Ulysses now. After all, I left quite a mess for him."

This was also why he hadn't killed Ulysses—not that he couldn't, but because the man still had his uses.

Indeed, S.H.I.E.L.D. began searching for Ulysses. After Natasha reported back, Director Fury realized they were dealing with Wakanda, the sole source of vibranium.

To be honest, Fury didn't fully believe Wakanda was that advanced. If they had such power, why hide and pretend to be a poor nation seeking aid? It didn't make sense.

However, being the cautious man he was, Fury decided to investigate. While he sent agents to discreetly probe Wakanda, he assigned Hawkeye to lead a team to capture Ulysses and retrieve some vibranium to bolster their resources. Material costs were rising, and the base's construction expenses were skyrocketing—a real headache.

There's no doubt Hawkeye is a top agent. The problem was that after Ulysses was "betrayed," he went into hiding, fearing retribution.

In this case, even Hawkeye struggled to locate him. A rat in hiding isn't easy to find, no matter how sharp your eyes are.

While Maverick enjoyed himself at the casino, Norman Osborn was having a rough time. Spider-Man had been hounding him, preventing him from eliminating certain shareholders. They clashed several times, with neither gaining the upper hand.

To make matters worse, the city couldn't tolerate the Green Goblin's destruction anymore and requested Iron Man's intervention. Fearing Iron Man, Norman dared not act again.

Feigning illness in his bedroom, Norman contemplated his next move. He called Niles. "How's the team's training progressing?"

"They're usable," Niles replied. "But they were just homeless people initially; even after enhancements, their combat skills aren't exceptional. Plus, we don't have more gliders or goblin suits."

"No matter. If they lack gliders, arm them with guns. Get them ready; we'll act as soon as Maverick returns."

Norman hung up. Just then, the TV broadcasted an Osborn Group press conference. Vice President McCann cheerfully announced, "Mr. Max Dillon has agreed to rejoin the Osborn Group as the head of our electrical engineering department..."

"McCann, Max." Norman's face twisted with rage. He decided then and there to eliminate them both.

At the Osborn Group, McCann sat in the vice president's office, brimming with pride. Maverick had placed great trust in him, assigning him to manage the company. Under his guidance, the Osborn Group's stock price was stabilizing.

"Won't be long before I move into the president's office," McCann mused. "Norman, rest easy; I'll take the Osborn Group to new heights."

Suddenly, the glass wall behind him shattered. McCann toppled from his chair, landing amidst shards of glass.

A green figure flew in through the broken window, shouting, "McCann, you traitor."

"Norman." McCann exclaimed in shock.

"That's right, it's me." Norman cackled maniacally. He leaped off his glider, grabbed McCann, and dragged him to the gaping window. "The Osborn Group is mine—always has been."

"Norman, please don't—Norman... Ahhh." McCann pleaded, but Norman showed no mercy, hurling him from the fortieth floor.

"What a delightful sound." Norman laughed as McCann's screams faded. He returned to the computer, swiftly accessing surveillance footage of the electrical engineering department. There, he saw Max leading a team inspecting the genetic lab's power grid.

Max, once disheveled and meek, now appeared confident and professional.

"Another traitor," Norman snarled, typing furiously. As Max touched a piece of equipment, it suddenly malfunctioned.

The entire tank became electrified. Max screamed in agony. Worse, genetically modified eels swam over, biting him as he trespassed into their domain.

Max met a tragic end, his body charred black.

"Traitors must die." Norman declared, jumping onto his glider and fleeing the scene.

The consecutive deaths of McCann and Max plunged the Osborn Building into chaos. Amid the turmoil, a female assistant seized the opportunity to sneak into the chairman's office. She pulled out a special USB drive, intending to steal company data.

"Who are you, and why are you here?" a cold voice demanded from the doorway.

Startled, the assistant looked up to see Mercury, Maverick's aide. Quickly pocketing the USB drive, she stammered, "Oh, hello. I'm here to clean."

"Where are your cleaning supplies?" Mercury asked suspiciously.

"They're outside," the assistant replied nervously, inching closer. "I was just wiping down the desk and computer first."

As she neared, the assistant suddenly flicked her left wrist. A bracelet slipped off, hurtling toward Mercury. Simultaneously, her right hand transformed into a blade, aiming for Mercury's neck.

She intended only to incapacitate, not kill. But to her astonishment, Mercury caught her wrist effortlessly. Before she could react, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen as Mercury struck. The assistant flew backward, crashing into the wall.

Doubled over in pain, she was shocked. How could Mercury be so strong? Was she enhanced?

"Just a petty thief," Mercury said coolly, advancing in her high heels. The assistant, still reeling, placed her hands on the floor and swept her leg toward Mercury's ankles.

Mercury scoffed, leaping gracefully over the attack and delivering a swift kick to the assistant's chin. The woman collapsed, unconscious.

"Qi is quite handy; it even enhances my strength," Mercury remarked, landing elegantly. She glanced at the unconscious intruder before pulling out her phone to call Maverick, reporting the incidents—including the deaths of McCann and Max.

"Maintain control for now; I'll return immediately," Maverick instructed. His primary concern wasn't the Green Goblin but Max.

To be honest, Maverick was puzzled. Max had still become Electro—was fate that persistent?

Late at night in a New York morgue, the lights flickered ominously. Even more unsettling, a "corpse" suddenly moved, tumbling off the slab. Nearby lights exploded in showers of sparks.

The charred figure on the floor was frantic. Seeing his own hands, he panicked—they were transparent, revealing veins, bones, and coursing electricity.

Electricity surged within him. As he moved, electrical devices around him powered on. An electric saw whirred to life, falling from a cabinet and nearly striking him.

"What's happening to me?" he gasped.

Standing up, the charred outer layer of his skin began to crack and peel away, revealing his true form beneath.

Max grabbed a cloak and fled the morgue in terror. On the street, an overwhelming hunger consumed him. Unable to resist, he absorbed electricity from a nearby car.

But it wasn't enough. Drawn by the flow of power—he could see electricity coursing through the city—he followed the lines toward the area with the highest concentration.

That place was Times Square. Max located a power junction, pried it open, and grasped the wires with both hands. He began absorbing electricity voraciously.

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