Don't ask why Blaine needed to use tracking paper cranes when he already had Soul Tracking. The Soul Tracking technique could only follow someone if Blaine had planted a spiritual seed in their soul. If he hadn't met them, he couldn't plant the seed—so there was nothing to track.
For people he had only encountered once and had never marked, the paper crane method was still the most convenient.
Fortunately, when Blaine first became a Bounty Hunter, he'd happened to run into one of the Hand's Five Fingers. That's right—Madame Gao. With his fairly good memory, Blaine could still picture her face even now. (If he couldn't remember, Blaine himself would probably be depressed…)
He followed the paper crane all the way through its flight. The downside, however, was obvious… It had already been flying for three hours, still drifting through the sky with no clear destination.
If Blaine hadn't been clinging to his must-kill resolve, he might have broken down from impatience. This was exactly why he was desperate to eliminate this target—he didn't have time to waste on this nonsense.
No matter how anxious Blaine was, the paper crane wasn't. It continued steadily forward. By the time it finally descended, it was already around ten in the evening after a three-hour blackout. Only then did ten "earth craftsmen" arrive.
In any case, Blaine never expected the Hand's secret base to be in Japan—and not just anywhere, but in the legendary Sahara Desert. A big organization was indeed a big organization; their ambitions were massive. Before tracking the crane, Blaine had guessed it would lead to some imposing structure hidden deep within the Sahara.
Imposing it was—but it was built under the desert. Using natural geographical advantages and the Sahara's vastness as a barrier, the Hand truly knew how to hide.
Now that he had found them, Blaine didn't waste a second. He immediately took off. In an instant, he arrived outside the region. The next second, a gust of wind burst where he stood, and his body vanished.
Super-light speed was no joke. Since Blaine had endured the pressure and gravity of the dark matter world, the physical forces of space no longer bothered him. If it weren't for the three days he spent asleep adjusting afterward, he wouldn't have been able to adapt so quickly. Even during the first few days after returning to Earth, his steps had been light one moment and heavy the next—his gait looked downright unnatural.
Compared to teleportation and flight, Blaine now preferred running at speed. Teleportation was fine for short distances, or maybe within the U.S. or a single state, but for long-range travel—like going abroad—speed was more reliable. As for flight, aside from aerial combat, it was basically useless.
Two minutes—maybe even one. Blaine arrived at the edge of the Sahara. Seeing it in person for the first time stunned him. The Sahara was enormous, spanning over nine million square kilometers. Blaine even wondered whether other groups had hidden bases here. It was entirely possible that unknown civilizations lay buried beneath this land.
He activated Hawkeye Vision. Even in the dark, the entire landscape was clear at a glance. Blaine pulled up the hood of his Hunter suit, which instantly shifted into its most primitive form. With a flick of his wrist, the Flood Dragon Trident appeared in his hand. He locked onto the Hand's base and moved at full speed.
"Huh? Who's there?"
"Stop or we'll shoot!"
The Hand was indeed cautious. Even several kilometers out, their hidden sentries detected Blaine.
"Hmph."
Blaine didn't bother acknowledging them. Without looking their way, he continued forward.
Da-da-da-da-da—
Da-da-da-da-da—
Da-da-da-da-da—
Classic underworld behavior. The moment the searchlights hit Blaine, they unleashed concentrated fire.
But ordinary firearms could never harm Blaine. Even without his Hunter suit, these bullets wouldn't move him.
"Get out of my way. This is embarrassing."
Blaine frowned. To him, facing these grunts was beneath him—he'd always upheld the philosophy of treating such enemies like export-grade tanks: efficient, unbothered, unstoppable.
He swung the trident forward. A powerful gust erupted, blasting the group ten meters away. They hit the ground one after another, unable even to groan—whether they were alive or dead was unclear.
He was someone who could cleave planets, step on Mars, and shoulder the moon—how could ordinary people comprehend a single wave of his hand?
"The Hand really is a dumpster fire."
"Garbage is garbage—no matter how much you pile it up, it's still garbage."
He hadn't even traveled a few kilometers when his danger sense detected multiple waves of assassins buried beneath the sand. With Hawkeye Vision constantly scanning the terrain, their exact positions were already exposed.
The poor fools thought they'd cornered their prey.
Blaine didn't even bother lifting a finger. His mind control expanded outward, taking hold of them all. They were dressed like ninjas—a sign that the base wasn't far now, and the core members had begun to surface.
Boom.
Ten seconds later, Blaine kicked the massive iron gate of the Hand's base clean off its hinges. The moment he stepped inside, he was surrounded.
The first circle held AK-47s. Behind them were soldiers with rocket launchers. Farther back, anti-aircraft guns perched on hidden armored bunkers. Camouflaged snipers waited in the distance. On top of that, sword-wielding samurai and masked mad ninjas formed dense ranks.
Rough estimate: hundreds of people.
Every gun, cannon, and blade was aimed directly at Blaine, forming an overwhelming wall of firepower.
Blaine remained completely unfazed. His expression was hidden beneath the hood, but his posture stayed relaxed and upright.
As the tension thickened, the smell of gunpowder heavy and suffocating, no one dared to act rashly. Suddenly, the men in front of Blaine parted into two neat lines, forming a corridor.
"I do not know what brings Your Excellency here,"
"But since you have come uninvited, forgive us if we offend."
The one speaking was Madame Gao—one of the Five Fingers of the Hand. No—after Blaine killed one, she was now one of the remaining four. Perhaps because they were in Huaxia, her tone carried an ancient, scholarly elegance. Blaine hadn't expected them to assimilate so thoroughly to local culture.
Standing beside her were the other three Fingers: Alexander Della, Sowande, and Murakami.
"No one comes to the Three Treasures Hall for nothing. So let's skip the nonsense. Who did it? I'm taking his life."
As the saying went, one shouldn't hit someone who greets with a smile. Since they were being polite, Blaine was willing to give them just that much face.
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