“Gulp.”

Ulysses Klaue swallowed hard. His heart pounded violently, pupils contracting.

In all his years of dealing on the black market and arms trade, he had never witnessed anything so absurd.

Someone was floating in the air just like in a movie.

Even Wakanda’s technology wasn’t this surreal.

“Who the hell are you!”

Klaue gripped his gun with both hands and aimed at Rowan.

Rowan gave a faint smile. “Did you forget? I contacted you just three days ago.”

“You!”

Klaue’s face twisted with fury. He finally realized the arms deal was nothing but a trap.

And the man who set it was far more terrifying than he could have imagined.

A superpowered freak?

How could such a thing even exist?

“Bang!”

Realizing Rowan was here specifically for him, Klaue didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger without a second thought.

The blazing bullet fired from the chamber.

Rowan didn’t move. He continued hovering in the air, eyes calmly fixed on Klaue.

A sharp hum vibrated through the room.

The bullet froze half a meter in front of Rowan’s forehead, suspended in midair, completely motionless.

Klaue’s eyes went wide, his heart skipping a beat.

Every instinct screamed in alarm.

This wasn’t just some mercenary he had run into something truly monstrous.

He wanted to run, but Rowan’s cold, detached gaze pinned him in place. He couldn’t take a single step.

“I’m not here to waste time.” Rowan raised his hand, two fingers pinching the bullet that hovered before him. His gaze dropped to Klaue.

“I want the vibranium you stole from Wakanda thirty years ago.”

“Hand it over, and I might let you live.”

Rowan’s tone was calm, but his words cut like steel.

Klaue felt a chill run through his body. He had never told anyone about that theft.

“How how could you know about that? You’ve got the wrong man, I never…”

He tried to lie, unwilling to give up the priceless fortune of vibranium he held.

But Rowan’s lips curled in a cold smile. His eyes hardened as he flicked his fingers.

The bullet shot forward like a black streak.

“Bang!”

Klaue’s left shoulder exploded, the force tearing his entire arm clean off.

“Arghhhh!”

He writhed on the ground, clutching the stump, face twisted in agony.

He couldn’t believe Rowan had acted so decisively, not even letting him finish a sentence.

“My patience is limited. You have ten seconds. Speak, or you die.” Rowan’s voice came down from above, merciless.

Klaue screamed and trembled in terror.

Madman. This lunatic doesn’t care if I die.

“10.”

“9.”

Rowan began to count.

Cold sweat drenched Klaue’s forehead, partly from the pain, partly from fear.

Rowan wasn’t bluffing. He really would kill him.

And truthfully, Rowan already knew where to look.

From the movies, he remembered: Klaue had once revealed the vibranium stash on his cargo ship to Ultron. Which meant it was close, and Rowan’s telekinesis could easily sweep the area to find it himself.

“4.”

The number left Rowan’s lips.

Klaue, dizzy from blood loss, broke down under the mounting pressure. His voice cracked, hoarse and hysterical. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

Rowan’s smile returned. “Good.”

With a thought, a towel floated across the room, wrapping tightly around Klaue’s wound, slowing the bleeding.

Klaue’s face turned ghostly pale from the pain, nearly fainting.

“Get up. Take me to it.” Rowan commanded.

Teeth gritted, Klaue staggered to his feet.

He cast Rowan a venomous glance before spitting blood to the side and stumbling toward the stairs.

Rowan floated behind him in silence.

After descending two levels, Klaue led him into a worn-down, inconspicuous warehouse.

With one last glare of hatred, he yanked open the rolling shutter.

Inside were dozens of iron drums labeled “Toxic Waste.”

Klaue pressed a hidden switch.

The entire floor descended like an elevator, revealing a secret chamber below.

Rowan’s eyes lit up at the sight.

Rows of cylindrical containers each about the length of a forearm lined the storage racks. Silver metal bases, reinforced glass centers.

Through the glass shimmered a strange mineral: glowing blue veins pulsed within, patches of dull black-gray clinging to the surface.

Vibranium ore.

Unrefined, yet unmistakable.

Rowan’s lips curved into a smile.

At least twenty containers. Nearly two hundred kilograms in total.

Jackpot.

He glanced at Klaue.

This was the man who had inflated vibranium’s black market price to ten thousand dollars per gram.

And now, Rowan had essentially walked away with two billion dollars’ worth in one stroke.

With a thought, the containers rose into the air, floating toward him.

“Leave one for me.”

Klaue growled, furious as he realized Rowan intended to take it all.

Rowan paused, amused, twirling one of the containers in his hand. “Leave one? Not impossible.”

“But you’ll have to give me something in return.”

“What do you want?” Klaue hissed through clenched teeth.

“Tell me where Wakanda really is.”

Klaue froze, shock flashing in his eyes.

This terrifying man had no ties to Wakanda?

Then he understood Rowan wanted to invade Wakanda.

At first he shook his head furiously. “Impossible. Without Wakandan codes and tribal markers, even if you found the true borders, you’d never get in—”

“Enough. Just tell me where.” Rowan cut him off coldly.

A glint of malice passed through Klaue’s eyes.

He realized he could turn this to his advantage.

If he led Rowan to Wakanda, their defenders would surely kill him.

“Fine. I’ll tell you.”

Rowan nodded.

Klaue then revealed the exact coordinates an outpost along Wakanda’s border.

“There. Now give me my share.”

Rowan chuckled softly.

A knife flew up into the air.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep