Chapter 95

As the rocket-propelled grenade flew over, Ymir instantly transformed into his wraith form. The shockwave from the explosion passed through his intangible body without causing any harm.

"Look, the early bird catches the worm."

Ymir, who had just risen and concealed his presence, saw a figure emerge from the bushes, his voice hoarse with a laugh: "What good luck, to catch another mutant so quickly. Mr. Kingpin was right; once Herbert Landon's research is made public, these poor creatures will surely be lured out."

Mystique rolled on the ground, still breathing. She raised her head with determination and hissed nervously, "Damn it, are you one of Kingpin's men?"

Even as a mutant, Mystique had long heard of the notorious Kingpin, the underworld king of New York. Especially the X-Men, who had clashed with Kingpin more than once. As a top spy under Magneto, Mystique was also familiar with such underground forces.

The figure in the bushes took a few steps forward, revealing himself in the headlights of the Rolls-Royce. He wore a thick leather coat that almost dragged on the ground, and a cold, excited look appeared on his face: "You're still alive."

Mystique struggled to her feet, carefully defending herself, and said coldly to the man, "I have no intention of being rude to Kingpin. Please let me pass; I have a mission to complete."

"How sad, everyone says they have no ill will toward Kingpin. If that's the case, how could I ever catch anyone?" the man said, snorting.

Mystique, a bit shocked, slowly retreated, shaking her head. "Since you've already caught someone, why do you need to be my enemy? Hey, have you heard of Magneto? Let me go, okay? I don't want to fight to the death with you."

"Look up, oh, what an ugly creature." The man took a few steps closer, looking at Mystique's face covered in blue scales, and said coldly, "No, you are now my captive. You have no right to negotiate with me."

"You want me to be your captive? Damn human!" The man didn't know the power of Mystique.

Although the rocket explosion had severely injured Mystique, it wasn't enough to render her incapable of fighting. She twisted her body like a snake, her arms moving with boneless grace, and viciously slashed at the man's neck artery.

"Not bad, quite interesting. Let's play," Ymir observed that the man's skills were on par with Mystique's, and even superior.

He vanished from Mystique's sight at an astonishing speed, his fists raised, and struck her body repeatedly with powerful force. Each blow targeted vital points that could be fatal, but the man held back, not killing Mystique outright.

"Who's the one who should die now?" The man knocked Mystique to the ground and squatted down, looking at her with a cold smile. This Marvel world was indeed dangerous, full of hidden tigers and dragons. Even mutants could be caught off guard at any time.

Mystique's eyes were filled with intense killing intent. Her body swayed, and she instantly transformed into an exact replica of the man. The leather coat, the bald head, even the "Bullseye" scar on his forehead were identical.

Taking advantage of the man's surprise, Mystique's rough, hairy hand punched him, sending him flying. She then leaped to her feet, as if she hadn't been injured at all.

"Is this your mutant power?" The man stepped back a few paces, stopping and rubbing his chin, which had been hit hard.

He didn't know much about the mutant world and wasn't sure if Mystique's injuries had healed after transforming. But this made it more interesting. The man took his hands off his belt, gripping several metal darts.

Mystique snorted, "Damn, I remember your face. I'll come back for you..." Before she finished speaking, she suddenly turned and ran, her speed creating a series of afterimages as she jumped into the roadside bushes.

The man was stunned, throwing his darts with a bored expression. The darts, as if guided by eyes, pinned Mystique to the ground.

Mystique cried out in pain, hit in both ankles and the back of her knee, stumbling and falling into the bushes.

A cold smile appeared on the man's lips as he stared at the immobilized Mystique on the ground, making a victory gesture. He pointed to his chest and then to his forehead scar, satisfied, "Right on the Bullseye! Hmm!"

Several men in hazmat suits, armed with heavy weapons, quickly rushed to Mystique, pointing their guns at her.

Mystique, in a sorry state, leaped to her feet, angrily looking at the men surrounding her from all sides. These men clearly weren't upstanding citizens, but they moved quickly, and before she could react, she was in their hands.

The men watched in horror as Mystique transformed back to her blue-skinned form from Bullseye's appearance. They looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Bullseye, who had been watching from the road, jumped down and kicked his subordinates angrily, "Idiots, inject her with anesthetic!"

"Yes!" The men responded, quickly following Bullseye's orders, knocking Mystique out and carrying her to a nearby off-road vehicle. Ymir, who had watched the entire fight up close, smiled sinisterly and followed a group of men, sitting in the passenger seat of the vehicle.

The men were well-organized, four to a group, with one driving and three in the back preparing equipment. Ymir, invisible, slipped into the passenger seat through the closed front door without making a sound.

The driver, looking serious, blended into the convoy, driving in the direction Mystique had been heading, under the cover of night. The three men in the back were laughing and chatting, seemingly unaware of Ymir's presence.

But Ymir wasn't foolish enough to shout. He sat quietly in the car, never daring to look at Bullseye, who stood on the roof of the lead off-road vehicle. The more powerful a person, the more sensitive their senses. Ymir feared that his gaze might alert Bullseye.

He hadn't acted on a whim. He had been following Mystique to see what she was up to. Ymir usually didn't care about things that didn't concern him, but Claudia, in a sense, was his girlfriend. He felt he should at least take care of her, considering he was using someone else's body. Ymir thought he was being quite considerate.