Thanks to his strengthened body, the giant whose blood had flowed into a red stream still breathed a breath, and he struggled to turn his eyes to the eagle eye standing next to his ear—he could no longer feel the part below his neck.

"Let's do it." Out of the corner of his eye, Atlas looked at the golden figure that was already a little blurred in his vision, and there was a hint of mockery and disdain in his voice.

Clint, dressed in golden power armor, leaps lightly onto the giant's chest and stomps on the giant letter 'A'.

His right arm was slowly raised, and a crossbow arrow was ready to be pointed at the giant's gradually dilating pupils. Hawkeye's expression was calm and determined, and his eyes were locked in the giant's, as if he wanted to see directly through his heart at this moment.

"Do you regret it?"

"Never."

In the silence, time seems to freeze. Then, Hawkeye's fingers gently pulled the trigger, and the crossbow arrow let out a sharp hiss.

"Bang!" The powerful arrow pierced the giant's pupils, shattering his eyeballs and hitting his brainstem directly. The giant's body twitched violently, then fell into a dead silence, unable to make a sound, just lying quietly on the ground.

Then, Hawkeye raised his head, his gaze resting on the circuses and rides around him, only to see that the once bustling place had now turned into a sea of fire.

The flames engulfed everything, turning laughter and laughter into smoke and fire.

However, the strange thing is that all the tourists who were there have long since left, and no one remains in this sea of fire, as if they have long realized that this is not a safe place.

Clint felt a slight relief in his heart, which meant that at least no innocent people were hurt in the aftermath of this battle.

His eyes wandered over the burning ruins, and suddenly, his hand suddenly reached out, grabbed exactly a yellowed photograph floating in front of him, engulfed in flames, and wiped his fingers against the burnt edges of the photograph to extinguish the flames.

It appears to be a group photo of a superhero squad, with several people hooked shoulders and smiling at the camera, exuding an atmosphere of cordiality and unity.

Standing in the center is a tall man with a big ace prominently on his chest.

The man looked resolute and confident, with a large hand on the shoulder of a comrade with a purple bow and arrow on his back, and they seemed to be on very good terms.

"How's it feeling about revenge?" Hearing the voice behind him, Clint turned around to see White Night and Wanda falling from the sky, and there were several large jars wrapped in red telekinesis beside them.

"Not bad."

Hawkeye smiled at the corners of his mouth, casually shoved the picture into the storage compartment, and sniffed.

Seeing that the old guy was in good spirits, Bai Ye shrugged and handed him the jar, motioning for him to pick up some Atlas's blood, this guy has become so big that it is convenient for them.

He and Wanda weren't just watching the show, they circled around the circus and telepathically drove away all the irrelevant people, and by the way, all they remembered about today was a man with an arrow and a battle with the giant.

After that, he set the fire in his hand again, blurring out the details of the battle.

The reason for this is that maybe a guy with a bullseye on his head will come and see what is going on.

It was none other than Mr. Bullseye, the Generalissimo under the Red Skull, whose necromantic lock implant on his head could only tell if the person in front of him was lying based on his heart rate.

And those civilians are really not lying, they are just too scared to remember the details, and the bullseye who has not killed a superhero in decades will not have time to target these innocent people.

Looking at Clint, who was holding the jar and receiving blood from the wound, White Night continued to think silently.

Bullseye will only be excited and can't help himself, and then he will start following the path Hawkeye has taken, and maybe even luring out Bucky Barnes, who was being used by Red Skull as a Winter Soldier again.

Of course, this is all a secondary matter, these few enhancements can be used as today's lottery heads, the important thing is that the blood containing Pym particles, as long as the host does not take the initiative to completely clean up the pym particles in their own blood, they will stay there for decades, no more, no less.

In addition, long-term repeated exposure to Pym particles can also allow the user to secrete Pym particles by himself, the human body, very magical, right?

Now all you have to do is go back and try to separate it and use it again.

Back at the workshop, several people walked into the familiar workshop, where the craftsmen were busy. His hands were stained with sweat, but there was a happy look on his face.

He raised his head and couldn't help but smile when he saw the Ant-Man helmet in Bai Ye's hand.

"Ah, Ant-Man's helmet, you want me to fix this?" The craftsman asked, putting down the tools in his hand and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Bai Ye nodded, handed out the helmet and said, "We still have some blood samples containing Pym particles here, you can take the time to see if you can isolate some particles from them." ”

Then he turned his gaze to the golden power armor neatly placed in the corner of the wall, there were quite a few of them, and it seemed that the craftsmen had not been idle during the time they were out.

"It's not a challenge, but since you trust me, I'll do my best to fix it." The craftsman said, placing the helmet on the workbench, he took out some tools and began to analyze the internal structure of the helmet.

Under the skillful operation of the craftsman, the internal parts of the helmet are gradually revealed, and he concentrates on repairing them, adjusting the details from time to time, and the fingers flying up and down seem to dance a tiny dance.

White Night and Hawkeye stood silently, watching the craftsman's movements.

After ten minutes, the tools in the hands of the craftsman finally stopped.

He gently pulled his fingers out of the helmet, then reattached some of the tiny parts and shells back to the helmet, and the restoration process seemed to be going smoothly.

"It should be fine now, let's try it." The craftsman encouraged.

"Hopefully Dwight will wash his hair every day."

Clint grabbed the helmet and put it on his head, and as the helmet restarted, a faint sound of electronic activation ringed in his ears.

Then, after squinting and trying for a while, hundreds of ants crawled in from the windowsill, stopped in front of him and began to circle in circles.

After confirming that Clint was becoming familiar with the operation of Ant-Man's helmet, the craftsman turned his head and approached the blood-filled jars, tapping his fingers lightly on one of them, and the bottle made a muffled echo.

He couldn't help but sigh, touching his head and making it difficult, he didn't know much about this kind of gadget, and it was probably not easy to extract it.

But you can also find another way.

Let's see if we can build a machine that automatically separates Pym particles.

I'll add it tomorrow

(End of chapter)