"General Ross brought vibranium to see me?" Loren was completely dumbfounded—this was entirely unexpected.
But on second thought, it all made perfect sense. General Ross had been trying to capture the Hulk for years.
If anyone in the world had the deepest obsession with the Hulk, it was General Ross.
After all, the Hulk had accidentally killed his daughter, Betty. Naturally, Ross was the one person who most wanted the Hulk dead.
As a high-ranking military official, it wouldn't have been hard for him to find out where the Hulk was being held.
And now, as the current head of the Morgan family, Loren's status and influence far surpassed what a military officer like Ross could ever hope to attain.
So of course, the best way for Ross to get what he wanted was to obediently deliver the vibranium Loren had requested.
Loren was just a little curious: how much vibranium did Ross have, and where had he gotten it?
As far as Loren knew, he'd already taken every last ounce of vibranium that S.H.I.E.L.D. could possibly have acquired. There shouldn't have been any left. So where did General Ross get his supply?
Just then, Tifa seemed to notice his confusion and immediately explained.
"Boss, General Ross brought over 440 pounds of vibranium—the military's been secretly stockpiling it since World War II."
Because of that, he'd become a fugitive. He was no longer a general; he was now the military's number one wanted criminal. They'd announced they'd bring him before a military tribunal.
"What? 440 pounds of vibranium? That's two hundred kilograms—worth two billion U.S. dollars! Goodness, that old scoundrel Ross really knows how to make an entrance. I like his style!"
"Should we knock him out and bring him in?" Tifa asked curiously after hearing Loren's remark.
"Knock him out? He's a distinguished guest! Welcome him properly. Come on, let's go see him."
Hearing there were 200 kilograms of vibranium, Loren was secretly delighted.
With that much vibranium, he could not only create nano-vibranium bodies for 2B and Tifa, but also build an entire fleet of nano-combat robots.
Tifa would handle housekeeping, 2B would oversee strategic decision-making, and A2 would manage cleanup operations and battlefield support.
Now it was time to start assembling a specialized robot team—for reconnaissance and medical repair.
A moment later, he arrived at the reception hall and sat down on the sofa at the front like a king.
At that moment, General Ross—escorted by several faceless robots—entered the hall.
From the instant he stepped onto the grounds of Morgan Manor, Ross had been utterly astonished.
He hadn't seen a single ordinary person since his arrival.
The masked waitresses who greeted him had flown out from the estate's villas without uttering a word, moving in eerie unison.
She'd casually lifted the 200-kilogram vibranium crate with one hand, as if she were buying vegetables at a market.
Two hundred kilograms!
Ross, a seasoned soldier, couldn't have lifted it with both hands—but one of the manor's waitresses had hoisted it effortlessly with just one. Who wouldn't be stunned?
After that, she'd carried him and flown at high speed. In just a few breaths, they'd crossed several kilometers of garden paths and deposited him inside a building resembling a castle.
But what awaited him inside was even more astonishing.
The hall, designed in the grand style of a European palace, featured smooth floor tiles made of some unknown material—black as gemstones and radiating an air of solemn nobility.
On either side stood ten masked female guards, each with a longsword at her hip and a combat drone hovering silently behind her.
Dozens of waitresses watched him coldly, their eyes utterly devoid of emotion—as if they'd execute him on the spot at the first sign of hostile intent.
Ross had been a general. He'd fought in countless battles and faced the fiercest warriors.
But never—never—had he encountered people so chillingly emotionless. These weren't humans. They were killing machines.
Little did he know that standing before him was the general-purpose combat robot squadron created by Loren—also known as the YoRHa Unit.
Each of these Faceless Men possessed combat power comparable to that of the first-generation 2B.
They could unleash a force exceeding three tons, fly at supersonic speeds, and were equipped with tactical drones for long-range fire support.
A single Faceless One was the equivalent of an entire human combat squad.
With twenty of them standing here, even if General Ross brought his entire legion—let alone just himself—they would be utterly crushed!
Led by one of the Faceless, General Ross was brought before Loren.
Before Ross could speak, a Faceless One kicked him from behind, forcing him to his knees before Loren.
Ross glared furiously at the faceless soldier, ready to resist—but then, remembering his objective, he forcibly restrained himself.
At that moment, Loren smiled and said, "What's wrong with you, female guard? How can you treat our distinguished guest so rudely? Come now—help General Ross up and offer him a seat!"
"Yes, sir!" the Faceless one replied instantly. She immediately fetched a chair and helped Ross into it.
As a general, Ross was no fool—he saw clearly that Loren was deliberately humiliating him.
If Loren truly didn't want his "female guard" to mistreat him, he could have given orders in advance. There was no need for this theatrical performance now.
Though seething with resentment, Ross swallowed his pride—for now. He needed Loren's help.
"Is it really worth it," Loren asked, his smile fading, "to steal two billion dollars' worth of vibranium from the military… just for the Hulk? You'd become the military's most-wanted fugitive."
"What does it matter," Ross growled, "as long as it lets me kill the Hulk?"
"Don't talk nonsense," Loren cut in. "Your butler already made the terms clear: if you provide satisfactory vibranium, you can take the Hulk."
"I've brought the vibranium," Ross said. "Half of it is for the Hulk."
"The other half," he added, "I want to trade for the formula to your secret potion—the one that can subdue the Hulk."
Loren chuckled. "Heh… you really are asking for the moon!"
"The Hulk? Fine—you can have him. But I can't sell you the formula for the super neurotoxin."
"However," he continued, "given the considerable amount of vibranium you've brought… I'll sell you a few doses of the finished product."
With that, he gave Tifa a subtle wink.
Tifa immediately gave an order and brought forward a small briefcase, handing it to General Ross.
"There are five vials of neurotoxin in here," Loren explained. "One microgram is enough to knock out a full-grown adult."
"There are five doses total. That's more than enough to take down the Hulk several times over. You should be satisfied."
"Deal!" Ross said without hesitation, eyes locked on the briefcase.
"Generous of you," Loren remarked with a grin. "I like doing business with decisive people. Alright—bring Dr. Banner out!"
Moments after Loren finished speaking, Bruce Banner was wheeled out in a reinforced cage—like a slave in a so-called civilized nation.
The instant General Ross saw Banner, his eyes turned blood-red. A tidal wave of rage surged through him.
His body began swelling at a visible rate—and in the blink of an eye, General Ross had transformed into the Red Hulk.
"Oh?" Loren's eyebrows lifted in deligh
t. "The Red Hulk? Now that's interesting!"
Rather than fear, Loren felt only fascination as the crimson giant loomed before him.
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