Unfortunately, a bunker was still just a bunker, not an office building. Although Su Ming found everyone's bedrooms and offices upstairs, there was no useful intelligence at all.
Let alone any way to contact Madame Hydra. Gibborim had probably kept everything in his head. And his organs, brain, even his soul—who knew which demon god had taken them. Su Ming had no need to use the Time Stone over a little intelligence.
He might as well check on Howard's progress first. Maybe he and Zola could find some clues, especially Zola. Digitizing memories was practically his specialty. There might be progress by now.
"Let's go. There's nothing useful here. We did find a secret room, but it was full of Gibborim's personal hobby collection." Su Ming returned to Parham's side and shook his head.
"Hobby collection?" Ghost Rider was somewhat confused.
"Yeah, that guy clearly had something wrong with his head. He liked collecting all kinds of moths. That secret room was like a miniature moth museum, but those creatures are obviously useless to us."
Su Ming dusted himself off. The sight in that secret room was enough to trigger trypophobia on the spot. Just the constantly wriggling, hatching pupae piled in baskets were disgusting enough, not to mention the sheer number of moths covering the walls and ceiling.
Collecting specimens was perfectly normal. Collecting massive numbers of live moths was absolutely deranged. Even so, he had thoroughly searched the secret room before coming out empty-handed. He only felt uncomfortable, as though moth scales had gotten all over him.
It was really just psychological. Strangle was still there, after all. But many people disliked things that could fly and were furry, such as bats.
"Moths, huh?" Parham shrugged and adjusted his cowboy hat.
"What do you mean, 'moths, huh'?" Su