Beneath the pitch-black night sky, Ward appeared outside a mansion, dressed in black. This was his brother Christian's home, and the place where his nightmares had once begun.
In the past, whenever he thought of his brother Christian Ward, the dazzlingly successful senator, Ward had felt an irrepressible resentment. He had suffered plenty at his "brother's" hands, which had directly driven his personality toward self-destruction and violence.
But now, Ward felt no stir of emotion. He simply thought carefully about whether there were any flaws in his plan.
After considering it for a while, Ward stopped hesitating and quietly slipped into the mansion. Its security was extremely tight, but to an elite agent like Ward, it might as well have been nonexistent.
Ward easily bypassed the infrared alarms, slipped between the patrols of two groups of guards, and climbed into the study on the second floor.
His brother Christian Ward was reading in the study. When someone suddenly appeared, he nearly shouted for security.
But when he recognized Ward's face, his expression turned to disgust. "You're a grown man. Don't you know how to ring the doorbell?"
On the surface, Ward and his brother looked five or six parts alike, though Christian seemed more scholarly.
"My brother, I heard you were looking for me," Ward said with a smile.
"Where did you go? I heard from people at S.H.I.E.L.D. that you'd disappeared. I thought you were dead," Christian said sternly.
"I know. I heard you'd already prepared an obituary to read at my funeral," Ward replied, without a hint of emotion.
"I spent countless resources and manpower looking for you!" Christian seemed extremely displeased with his younger brother's attitude.
Ward merely walked slowly over to his brother and punched him hard.
The punch landed with tremendous force, leaving Christian's face