Chapter 777: A Personal Grudge

Chapter 777: Chapter 777: A Personal Grudge

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The Spartan warrior woman appeared behind Henry with a yawn.

As one of the original assassins, the Spartan was genuinely skilled at moving stealthily. Many times, if she deliberately chose not to reveal herself, Henry wouldn’t notice her approach until she was already quite close.

But Cassandra wasn’t trying to scare him. It was simply a habit she’d developed over her long life. As an immortal who had lived for more than 2,400 years, keeping a low profile was ingrained in her bones. Naturally, she tried to minimize her presence in everyday life as much as possible.

"Henry, why aren’t you sleeping in the middle of the night? You’re tinkering with mecha again? Hmm, is this a new one? Wild Boar?"

"Why did you come here?"

Henry turned around and glanced at Cassandra.

"I saw today’s news. The Green Goblin has targeted you? The news didn’t give your name, but that victim was you, wasn’t it? At least here in New York, I don’t know anyone else who keeps a tiger as a pet."

"Yeah. It was me."

"So you’re planning to get even?"

"No. If he wants to be a villain, then he has to accept the kind of ending that villains might get. I’m not satisfied with merely teaching him a lesson."

Cassandra came to the wall of screens and looked at the numerous surveillance feeds, her expression turning strange.

"Osborn Industries? The Green Goblin is connected to them? And how did that guy get on your bad side?"

"The Alzheimer’s drug I developed in cooperation with India was eventually handed over to Osborn Industries. That included the formula, production technology, and the rights to register the patents."

"They got the better end of that deal, then. So you’re unhappy because you didn’t get enough out of it?"

"The deal was completed, and I got the compensation I wanted. Norman Osborn simply wanted to recruit me afterward, and I refused. That might be why the Green Goblin came after me."

"Is he insane? Is that really necessary?"

Cassandra was genuinely astonished.

"Yeah, that’s what I think too. Whether he’s actually crazy or merely pretending, once he crosses my line, he can’t blame anyone for what happens to him. That’s reasonable, right? And don’t you dare suggest that I sit down and have a nice, calm conversation with a lunatic."

"He crossed your line? What line?"

"The Green Goblin can’t kill me, so he threatened to go after Skye and Catherine Hepburn. He dared to say it, and there was already a precedent with the casualties at the Osborn Carnival. Am I really overreacting by taking it seriously?"

Henry spoke with a smile, but Cassandra could hear the fury burning beneath his words.

Anyone who tried to block his path would be reduced to ashes.

Cassandra had grown up in an era when killing and being killed were commonplace, so she naturally didn’t believe a feud of this magnitude could end peacefully. She merely questioned his method.

"If you want to live a peaceful life, you don’t have to handle something like this yourself.

"Why not leave it to professionals? I may not be particularly welcome in the Assassin Brotherhood, but I know quite a few experienced and reliable people. William Miles, for example, is a modern Master Assassin. Want me to introduce you?"

Henry shook his head.

"Thanks, but no. One lesson I learned in the past is that when something really important needs to be done, the safest approach is to carry it out yourself.

"And besides..."

Henry walked over to the control panel and operated the computer, pulling up every image of the Green Goblin fighting Spider-Man that had been captured by news media.

There weren’t many, but different outlets had filmed from different angles, some from farther away and some up close. They could still serve as useful references.

"...look at the Green Goblin’s fighting ability. What do you make of it?"

Cassandra studied the footage carefully.

The distances at which the Green Goblin and Spider-Man knocked each other back, their jumping ability, balance, and other physical performances were clearly beyond those of ordinary humans.

The more she watched, the more surprised Cassandra became.

"Are they mutants? No. Mutants don’t usually display abilities that simple. Apart from the spider kid being able to shoot webbing from his wrists. Though I can’t tell whether that’s an innate ability or some kind of technological equipment.

"So they’re humans who’ve used a super-soldier serum, combined with advanced technology? Isu equipment only works through continuous contact with the user. I don’t see any Isu technology on them."

Henry looked astonished.

"You’ve met someone who used a super-soldier serum? Don’t tell me you went sightseeing on the European battlefields during World War II."

Cassandra made an exaggerated expression of denial.

"Of course not. Fighting in that idiotic war wasn’t my responsibility. But I did meet a cynical Black man who spent more than ten years in prison and claimed to be the first Captain America."

"The first Captain America?"

Henry was momentarily confused by the revelation.

"Isaiah Bradley. I never met Steve Rogers, but I met this Black fellow who’d also used the super-soldier serum. At the very least, his physical abilities weren’t something an ordinary person could possess. And it wasn’t exactly a friendly encounter, so I remember it quite clearly."

After hearing Cassandra’s explanation, Henry suddenly wondered if she was talking about the man who appeared in Captain America: Brave New World and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

He decided not to pursue the subject of the Black Captain America and returned to the matter at hand.

"Anyway, you know what people who’ve used the super-soldier serum are capable of. Do you still think a Master Assassin from the Brotherhood could deal with an opponent like that?"

"Hmm. I’d say it would be difficult. But not impossible."

Cassandra answered seriously.

"Unfortunately, our opponent might not give us a second chance. So I’m operating under the assumption that I only get one shot, and thinking about how to kill him."

"Then... want some help?"

Faced with Cassandra’s offer, Henry thought for a moment before shaking his head.

"No. This is a personal grudge. There’s no need to drag you into it.

"Besides, I’m prepared for the possibility that this Wild Boar armor will only be used once. To avoid being traced back to me, I’ll probably have to destroy it afterward. You put a lot of effort into your Eagle Armor. Don’t waste it on something like this."

The reasoning was impeccable. At least Cassandra couldn’t think of an excuse to insist on getting involved.

"All right. I can only tell you to be careful. But you’re taking this so seriously, acting as if you’re facing a formidable enemy. So you know who the Green Goblin is?"

Suddenly, an alarm sounded from the surveillance wall.

One of the screens zoomed in, clearly displaying the face of the person Henry had marked as a high-priority target.

The moment Cassandra recognized him, she exclaimed.

"Norman Osborn! You’re serious?"

"Completely serious. What he said to me was no different from declaring war. Since he wants to fight and he’s already made the first move, I’ll decide how it ends."

"No wonder you’re being so cautious."

Cassandra sighed.

Although she’d been born more than 2,400 years ago, she wasn’t oblivious to how the world had changed.

In particular, the movements of their ancient adversaries—from the ancient Order of the Ancients, to the Order of the Ancients’ successors, the Templars, and eventually the modern Abstergo Industries—made her instinctively suspicious of anyone wielding significant power. Could they be members of that secret organization?

Because fundamentally, these old enemies couldn’t simply be categorized as an "evil force." They were merely pursuing more efficient methods of governance and greater control over power.

That philosophy happened to be diametrically opposed to the Assassins’ belief that "Nothing is true, everything is permitted."

As a result, powerful people who shared that pursuit were easily recruited into the secret organization.

If someone hadn’t joined, the only reason was probably that the Templars had never revealed themselves to that person.

"So we’re not getting to play this time either?"

The voice came from Gilgamesh, who had also arrived at the secret base on the eleventh floor. Tina followed behind him.

"Not really. It’s just the Green Goblin. I take him seriously, sure, but not seriously enough to call everyone out. This is just a personal grudge."

Henry smiled bitterly.

The Green Goblin wasn’t worth mobilizing everyone here.

And from the very beginning, Henry had never considered the Green Goblin much of a threat. Even if the technology he’d provided had enhanced the effects of the Green Goblin serum and made Norman stronger than Captain America, it was still nothing worth worrying about.

As long as there wasn’t a second Sentinel, the Green Goblin was just trash.

Norman Osborn, however, was an entirely different matter.

Even if everyone here mobilized, it wouldn’t necessarily make things any simpler.

Trading one mecha identity for the life of a billionaire was already the most cost-effective solution.

Henry didn’t want to lose anything more.

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