Brazil, Rosinia's slum district, in a cheap single-room rental.
The room's decor was severely outdated and shabby, with peeling wallpaper due to its age. However, the various pieces of furniture were arranged simply and neatly.
In the dim light that filtered through the glass window, a young man sat cross-legged on a small, square straw mat, his hair disheveled, wearing nothing but a pair of oversized shorts.
He controlled his breathing evenly, beginning to slowly lower his eyelids, practicing a form of Indian yoga breathing technique. Using abdominal breathing to slow his pulse, he aimed to adjust his emotional state.
But as soon as he closed his eyes, his vision plunged into endless darkness, and an angry roar from a green monster trapped in the depths of his subconscious mind echoed towards him.
The immensely powerful green cells that filled his bloodstream and genes began rapidly infecting other red blood cells.
"Whoosh, Whoosh..."
The young man began to gasp heavily, his face contorted slightly, veins popping on his forehead, and cold sweat pouring out of his body, soaking his entire body. Despite his desperate efforts to suppress it, he was teetering on the brink of losing control of his body.
"Don't come out!" The young man growled lowly before he suddenly opened his eyes. He didn't know when his hands had already clenched into fists, gripping tightly.
He hurriedly looked at his left wrist, where a physical heart rate monitor watch was strapped. The number displayed on it, which had soared to over two hundred, was gradually dropping, approaching the normal range of a little over one hundred.
"It's happening again," The young man said with a bitter smile on his face.
For more than three years of living in Brazil, mastering ancient yoga and integrating into local life, as long as he kept his emotions in check, he wouldn't transform into the Hulk, a creature that only knew destruction and combat.
Now, it had been more than a hundred days since he last transformed into the Hulk.
However, for some reason, during this time, the usually silent Hulk had become increasingly restless, consciously trying to break free and go somewhere in the western direction.
The West, that was the United States.
His homeland, where his loved ones were, a place he longed for but couldn't approach.
But in recent days, the young man had been overwhelmed by a strong sense of unease, and it was as if something in the United States was attracting the Hulk. His anger had reached the critical point of transformation several times.
"No matter what, I won't let you out, and I won't let you return to New York in the United States!" The young man silently swore to himself.
He took a deep breath, calmed himself, wiped the sweat from his body with a towel, and continued his practice of Indian yoga to adjust his emotions.
---
In the vast expanse of the ocean, aboard a massive American transport aircraft heading towards Brazil.
Inside the cabin, heavily armed soldiers, ready for action, sat in silence in row after row of seats. While the danger level of the mission had significantly decreased as it shifted to reconnaissance and logistics, this change had sparked some mild discontent among these elite soldiers.
Of course, if they knew what kind of enemy they were about to face, they probably wouldn't be thinking that way.
The armed soldiers occasionally raised their heads, casting looks of admiration, as if they were seeing an idol, towards one area. There, accompanied by General Ross, sat only a silver-haired young man, sitting upright with his eyes closed, seemingly in meditation.
Kyle's handsome face remained expressionless, but his current state of mind was far from calm. As the transport aircraft drew nearer to its destination in Brazil, the desire for battle burned within him like a blazing fire, growing stronger and brighter!
When two tigers are on one mountain, one of them must die or leave.
If Earth were likened to that mountain, the lifeform capable of serving as the tiger, there were currently only Kyle and Hulk!
Kyle had never felt such a strong desire to win before. Ever since drawing the gene card of the Asgardian Divine Race, he urgently needed an opponent of equal caliber to challenge.
"Mr. Kyle, are you really going to face Hulk alone?" General Ross lowered his voice, expressing his concerns.
It wasn't that he didn't believe in the Symbol of Peace, but Hulk was simply too powerful! So powerful that he dared not inform the elite soldiers in advance that they were going to confront an invincible monster!
"I am very certain," Kyle nodded, opening his eyes, and a gleam of burning determination flashed in his golden eyes.
The strongest on the surface? I don't accept that!
---
Around nine o'clock at night.
In Brazil's Rosinia slum, unlike the bustling metropolis, the residential area next to the factories had dimmed its lights early, and the local residents, tired from a day's work, were mostly asleep.
At this moment, several mysterious vehicles were parked in a small alley in the residential area.
One of the armored camouflaged vehicles had its interior lit, a spacious space equipped with various pieces of high-tech equipment and several split-screen monitors.
General Ross, wearing headphones and holding a military-grade walkie-talkie, looked across at Kyle. "I'm sure, Bruce Banner is in his own residence."
Kyle shrugged and advised, "Let your soldiers go first and see if they can capture him in his human form. If not, it's best to lure him to the factory area. The residential houses here are too densely packed for combat."
General Ross nodded and followed the instructions. He issued orders through the walkie-talkie, "All elite soldiers, equip yourselves with paralysis weapons and proceed with the covert operation against the target residence!"
Upon receiving the command, the doors of the other vehicles opened immediately. Nearly ten fully armed elite soldiers, moving skillfully with lowered bodies, swiftly entered the alleyways of the street.
They truly were the elite among the elite, and under the cover of the night, no one noticed their presence or tracks.
Emil led the way, and the darkness and narrow alleys didn't hinder his agility. He quickly reached the ground floor of the target residence.
"Arf, Arf!"
A large black dog tied up downstairs sensed something amiss. It had barely let out its first bark when Emil swiftly aimed and fired a paralysis dart accurately at the dog's neck, rendering it motionless on the ground without a sound.
Emil waved his hand forward, and his teammates immediately followed, swiftly reaching the third floor via the stairs.
"Bang!"
A small bomb was placed on the door of the target's single-room residence. After it detonated, amidst the flying wooden debris, Emil stormed into the room, firing several shots at the bed in the single-room residence.
If everything went smoothly, the operation should have ended there.
Emil raised an eyebrow, sensing that something was amiss. He approached and lifted the bedsheet, only to find a pillow underneath.
"The target escaped!" Emil reported in a hushed tone.
"Chase him!"
This was another command from General Ross on the other end of the walkie-talkie.
The elite soldiers immediately followed the trail and quickly spotted a young man with curly hair, wearing a red shirt and carrying a backpack, running towards the end of the alley!
As if knowing the consequences of his anger, the curly-haired young man's escape route coincidentally led to a deserted and sealed factory!
Meanwhile, inside the command vehicle.
Kyle couldn't sit still. Suddenly, he got up from his seat and opened the door with a determined expression.
General Ross looked at him in surprise and suspicion. "Mr. Kyle, what are you..."
"It's coming out," Kyle said calmly and got out of the vehicle, disappearing into the darkness of the night.
(End of this chapter)