Marvel: Hunter

"Who are you?"

"I don't know you at all."

The more Blaine listened, the more shocked he became. He clearly did not know the other party, yet the voice kept insisting that Blaine had once made him a promise.

"Why, don't you admit that you are a Bounty Hunter?"

Hearing this, Blaine's heart skipped a beat. It seemed that the owner of this voice truly knew him.

"Yes, that's right. I am the Bounty Hunter."

"Old man, are you the Black Panther, one of the prehistoric Avengers?"

Since the other party knew him, why hadn't he let Blaine in earlier? Why had he attacked Blaine when he was weak, yet now that Blaine was standing in front of him, he appeared indifferent and even somewhat friendly? On top of that, he clearly knew Blaine. At this moment, Blaine's mind was filled with questions. It felt as though a veil had been drawn over his eyes, leaving him unable to see the direction clearly or grasp the truth.

However, considering that the other party was an ancient existence who had lived for tens of thousands of years—and that he clearly knew Blaine—calling him "old man" was still a respectful enough address.

"Old man?"

"What familiar words."

"It seems you still forgot after all."

"Yes, I have amnesia. I don't even understand what you're talking about."

"Then please tell me what happened to me before."

"And let me remember you as well."

Blaine didn't know why, but this old monster always spoke in riddles, hesitating and avoiding the main points. Instead of frustrating Blaine, it actually piqued his curiosity. Since he didn't know him anyway, Blaine decided to lay everything on the table and let him talk, to see whether he could reveal anything useful.

"As expected, you don't remember."

"Then let's start from the beginning."

"That dark age is coming again, and I hope you can restore your memory as soon as possible and help Wakanda."

…

"What exactly is this dark age?"

"I don't know if you still remember, but in those years, we galloped across the battlefield."

"You led us as we resisted the invasion of foreign enemies together."

"The heroic figure you cut back then is still vivid in my memory…"

Perhaps it had simply been too long since anyone had come here, and this ancient being had too much to say. But what followed completely overturned Blaine's understanding. These were things he had never known before.

The two of them talked for an unknown length of time. To call it a conversation was inaccurate—most of the time, Blaine was listening while the voice recounted their story. Occasionally, Blaine would interject with a few questions.

And so it went: one person, one voice. The person listened intently, and the voice spoke earnestly. No one knew how much time had passed—perhaps a few days, perhaps only a few hours.

Blaine's brows were tightly furrowed as he carefully recalled everything the voice had just told him.

No—perhaps it was better to say that these events might truly have happened. Because some details could not possibly be described without firsthand experience. Especially when the voice spoke of certain moments, vivid images would automatically surface in Blaine's mind.

On the altar, Blaine stood alone. He remained completely motionless, like a statue.

His expression was grave as his mind rapidly pieced together what he had heard and what he had seen in those visions. Although countless mysteries remained, Blaine still wanted to connect the story the voice had told him—especially those crucial details.

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