Vi cracked her fist, looked at the Skrulls embedded in the wall, now back to its green form, and clicked her tongue.
That's it?
She unfastened her boxing gloves and let them bounce on the lawn, sending up a cloud of grass clippings, before pulling a communicator from her pocket.
"The work is done. Santa Monica Sunshine Home, send someone to clean the floor."
A brief confirmation tone came from the other end, and the communication was cut off.
Wei twisted her neck, and the anger that had been suppressed in her chest for so long was finally released with the punch she had just thrown.
She liked this way of solving problems—it was simple, direct, and effective.
Just then, her personal terminal on her wrist vibrated.
A new message popped up.
From: Hans Landa.
The main subject of the message is a high-resolution photo recently taken by a high-altitude drone.
In the picture, a circular hole is clearly visible in the center of the lawn in the courtyard of the nursing home; the damaged patterns resemble an abstract work of art.
Below the image is a line of text. "Ms. Wei, we hope you had fun. The repair costs will be deducted from your next quarterly bonus. P. S. The image of a hero vandalizing public facilities is 'punk,' but not 'sophisticated.'"
Wei felt a tic-tac-toe mark appear on her forehead.
"That bastard!"
She cursed under her breath.
She could even picture that bastard Landa in his office, admiring her "masterpiece" as he slowly and deliberately typed out those words with his white-gloved hands.
That condescending attitude, using rules and bills to manipulate others, disgusted her more than any fist.
Less than ten minutes later, three black Vought service vehicles silently drove into the nursing home.
A dozen or so "cleaners" silently began their work.
A group of people set up a new cordon and used a handheld device to "emotionally soothe" the frightened elderly people and caregivers around them, as if those terrifying memories were being gently erased by an invisible eraser.
The other group used a silver metal box to stuff the half-dead Skrulls into it like a shack of garbage.
There were no unnecessary movements or conversations throughout the entire process.
Standing to the side, Vers stared at this unbelievable scene with shock and confusion in his eyes.
What exactly is this organization called " Vought "?
Wei noticed the expression on Vers's face.
She looked at the clueless alien girl, then thought of Landa's smug grin, and a surge of anger shot through her.
She unusually suppressed her temper, gently tapping her shoulder with the knuckles of her boxing gloves, breaking the silence.
"Hey, alien girl."
Vers shifted his gaze from the "cleaners" to Wei's face.
"That guy's dead. What are you planning to do now? Go back to your Kree Empire?" Vi asked.
Vers shook his head blankly.
Her memory remains a chaotic jumble of fragments shrouded in a thick fog.
Yon Rogge's face, the Starforce training, and other images that weren't even her own all intertwined, giving her a splitting headache.
"I have no idea..."
She pressed her forehead in apparent pain.
"My mission... is complete. But... where should I go...?"
Her voice grew softer and softer until it became a murmur.
"There's always a name flashing in my head... Pancho's Bar... Yes, Pancho's Bar."
"Bar?"
Wei paused for a moment, then suddenly broke into a mischievous smile.
To hell with the report!
Screw your assessment!
To hell with the bonus!
I need a vacation!
A strong rebellious impulse surged within me.
Since that bastard said I wasn't "high-class" enough, I'll just go all the way with "punk"!
" Pancho's Bar, right?"
Wei's eyes were frighteningly bright, and she put her arm around Vers's shoulder.
"Come on, I'll take you to find it! Why think so much! If we can't find our way home, let's have some fun first!"
Before Vers could react, Vi pulled him toward a spare SUV parked by the "cleaners" team on the side of the road.
"This vehicle is a backup vehicle for operations; you have no right to..."
A leader of a cleaning crew tried to intervene.
Wei completely ignored him, simply extending her hand and beckoning him with two fingers, her eyes filled with impatience.
The squad leader's words caught in his throat. Under Wei's imposing gaze, he hesitated for two seconds before reluctantly taking the car keys from his waist and placing them in Wei's hand.
"I've requisitioned the car; put it on the public relations department's tab! Just say I need to organize a cultural experience trip to appease my important alien friend!"
After saying that, she opened the car door, shoved the bewildered Vers into the passenger seat, jumped into the driver's seat herself, skillfully started the engine, shifted gears, and floored the accelerator.
The black SUV sped away amidst the astonished gazes of the cleaning crew.
Thus began an unplanned, spontaneous road trip.
The car sped along the highway.
Wei had the car window open, letting the strong wind tousle her short pink hair.
The car stereo was blasting deafening rock music, and she was shaking her head vigorously to the rhythm, feeling incredibly happy.
After driving for a while, she stopped the car in a small town.
"Get off!"
Vi turned off the engine and shouted at Vers in the passenger seat.
Without saying a word, she pulled Vers into a clothing store that looked a bit old.
"Your green uniform is too conspicuous."
As Vie frantically rummaged through the clothes rack, she spoke to Vers, who was following behind her.
"On Earth, dressing like that means you're either going to a comic convention or you're mentally unstable."
She quickly picked out a black motorcycle leather jacket, a pair of ripped jeans, and a T-shirt with the Nine Inch Nails logo, and stuffed them all into Vers's arms.
"The material is good, and it's sturdy enough."
She patted Vers on the shoulder, "You're in pretty good shape, don't waste it. Put it on and let me see how it looks."
A few minutes later, when Vers came out of the fitting room, he looked completely different.
The tight-fitting leather jacket accentuated her fit physique, a result of years of exercise.
Her long, golden hair was casually draped over her shoulders, and paired with her still somewhat bewildered but well-defined face, she looked like a cool and sassy rock girl, less of the rigidity of a soldier and more of a wild charm.
"Mmm, that's more like it."
Wei whistled with satisfaction and swiped Vought's black card.
Back in the car, the journey continued.
Wei tried to recommend her favorite band to Vers, passionately explaining that the spirit of rock and roll is rebellion and freedom.
Meanwhile, Vers leaned against the car window, watching the desert landscape rushing past outside. The fragmented memories in his mind were shaken into even greater chaos by the frenetic music, yet there was also a strange sense of relaxation.
This pink-haired Earth woman is rude, blunt, and utterly illogical.
But she possesses a vitality, like an inextinguishable star, burning herself out in the simplest and most direct way.
This feeling was completely different from all the training and education she had received in the Kree Empire.
"Hey, alien girl, what are you daydreaming about?"
Wei nudged her with her elbow.
"Once we find that Pancho's Bar, I'll treat you to the strongest liquor on Earth!"
Vers turned his head and looked at the unbridled smile on Wei's face. The tense vigilance in Wei's blue eyes began to loosen.