Chapter 162 What on Earth Are You Barking At?

"What about the Mandarin? Has the signal source been tracked?"
"It's in a villa in Tennessee."
No wonder the military could never find the Mandarin; he wasn't even in the Middle East at all.
"Give me the coordinates, and let's move out immediately."
Wearing the Steel Bat suit and stepping onto the bat glider, Michael soared into the high altitude.
Just as he cleared New York, a figure blocked his path.
"It really is you, Michael."
Michael frowned as he looked at Harry before him. The kid had grown smarter.
"You've been lingering near my island the whole time?"
"Yes. Only you and Tony Stark can build steel armor, and only you have a penchant for black and capes. So, you must be that Batman."
Standing on a skateboard-styled glider, Harry glared angrily at Michael.
Michael nodded and said, "Your deduction is quite good, but why didn't you strike right away?"
"I wanted to verify whether it was truly you."
Michael smiled contemptuously and said to Harry, "Not bad at all, Harry. You've grown."
"Bastard! Why did you kill my father?"
"I'm sorry, Harry. It wasn't me who killed your father; it was the enhanced serum he injected that corrupted him."
The serum given to Norman Osborn back then had effects on the human body similar to Captain America's—both were enhancement formulas, though Norman's was a super-serum version vastly superior to Captain America's.
Compared to Norman's earlier versions, the side effects were already much lower, but Norman still turned into a villain after injecting it. This only proved that Norman was never a good person to begin with.
However, compared to the Green Goblin in the Spider-Man timeline, this version of Norman was relatively better. After all, this version of Norman hadn't gone insane and attacked the military command—whereas the original Green Goblin had wiped out government officials entirely.
Seeing Michael's nonchalant expression, Harry recalled his father's twisted corpse, and the rage within him could no longer be contained.
"Bastard!"
Harry pulled out a pumpkin bomb and hurled it at Michael.
Looking at the deranged Harry, Michael couldn't help but sigh inwardly. What a waste.
If Harry had taken the serum before Norman's death, he might have become someone like Captain America. Unfortunately, he injected it after Norman was gone.
Hatred warps a person's will and poisons a person's heart; the current Harry had become somewhat unhinged.
Michael felt a tinge of guilt toward Harry. If Norman was merely an accident, then Harry was truly a villain of his own making.
The pumpkin bomb exploded near Michael, kicking up a burst of green light.
This special light could instantly vaporize a person's flesh, but its potency was greatly diminished against someone with enhanced physical attributes.
Seeing that Michael hadn't dodged, Harry thought he had succeeded, and a smug sense of satisfaction welled up inside him.
"Sorry, Harry, I'm in a rush."
The flames and green light slowly dissipated, revealing Michael's completely unharmed body.
Harry's expression changed drastically. He tossed a barrage of bombs, then accelerated his glider, spewing scorching flames.
However, Michael's figure vanished instantly, and the next moment, he appeared right behind him. Harry felt a sudden heaviness on his glider, followed immediately by a sharp slap across his face. The world spun before his eyes, and Harry tumbled straight off the glider.
Michael didn't even glance at Harry. His bat-wing glider surged out of the smoke, carrying him onward toward Tennessee.
Regaining consciousness in mid-air, Harry frantically summoned his glider, barely managing to stabilize his posture.
When he climbed back up into the high altitude, Michael was completely gone.
He was filled with fury, yet utterly helpless.
Michael's strength had grown to a level where he could entirely ignore ordinary weapons, leaving Harry with no recourse whatsoever.
Michael arrived at the villa. According to the satellite imagery, the bearded Mandarin was indeed right here.
Touching down on the ground, the glider unfolded and transformed into a sleek black motorcycle.
Michael straddled the bike, charged directly toward the villa, and launched himself off a ramp, soaring right over the entrance.
Hearing the roar of the motorcycle, the bodyguards turned around just in time to see a dark figure gracefully sweep through the air over their heads and land right at the front gate of the villa.
The man was clad in heavy armor. He pulled off a stylish drift, brought the motorcycle to a halt, raised his arm, and leveled a shotgun right at them.
They had no idea what was happening, but that didn't stop them from realizing they were in extreme danger. They instantly drew their pistols to retaliate.
Michael didn't give them a chance, opening fire and cutting them down immediately.
Gunfire flashed violently, piercing their bodies in an instant, the sheer momentum carrying them backward as they flew through the air.
With those two dealt with, Michael rode the motorcycle straight into the villa.
Realizing something was wrong, the remaining bodyguards drew their weapons to fight back, but against such an overwhelming disparity in firepower, they could only meet their bitter end.
The path ahead was completely unobstructed, and Michael smoothly made his way upstairs.
He finally dismounted the motorcycle and pushed open a door. Behind it stood the Mandarin, whose face was pale with panic.
"What is the meaning of this? This doesn't seem to be in the script."
Michael planted a boot squarely on his chest and said, "I heard you're an actor."
The sheer force of the blow made him realize this was no joke.
"Yes, yes, I'm an actor! I'm not the Mandarin, my name is..."
"I'm not interested in what your name is."
Michael pointed his shotgun straight at the man's head and said, "From now on, you are a bald eagle."
"Okay, I'm a bald eagle. I can even make eagle noises."
"No eagle noises. You're going to bark like a dog."
"Huh?"
The Mandarin thought he must have misheard.
"Hurry up."
Michael urged him impatiently.
"Oh, right."
Though he didn't understand the bizarre fetish, the Mandarin complied nonetheless.
He pressed his legs together, held his arms out like wings, tried desperately to imagine himself as a bald eagle, and then let out a bark.
"Woof woof woof woof woof woof~"
"What are you barking for? What are you barking for?"
The Mandarin felt deeply aggrieved. Wasn't it you who told me to bark like a dog?
"Keep barking. Don't stop until I tell you to."
Harboring deep confusion, the Mandarin continued to bark.
Michael turned and walked away, dropped a super bomb in the villa's grand hall, and rode off on his motorcycle.
After a while, seeing that the armored bat-freak had left, the Mandarin decided to sneak out and take a look.
Stopping his barking, he cautiously made his way out. Stepping over the corpses scattered across the hall, he walked on with trepidation.
Before he even reached the exit, a deafening roar filled his entire field of vision with red flames. A massive shockwave blew the roof of the villa completely off, and the Mandarin was blasted to smithereens, not a single intact piece of flesh left on his body.
Looking back at the destroyed villa, Michael commanded his motorcycle to transform back into a glider and flew away.