“Argh!
Fuck!” Inside the moving vehicle, Kingpin growled softly, his back pressed tight against the seat back.
He shoved his thick fingers straight into his bloody, mangled eye socket, grabbed hold of the ruined eyeball, and ripped it out with a savage jerk.
*Squetch.* The wet sound of tearing flesh echoed with sickening clarity in the enclosed space.
He tossed the gouged-out eyeball onto the floor.
The dark red mass of flesh, still trailed by a few frayed strands of optic nerve, twitched against the carpet.
With his other hand, he leaned against the door, his terrifying strength caving the interior panel into a deep dent.
“Ngh…
ah…” On the bench beside him, Bullseye lay flat on his back, hands clamped tightly over the gruesome gash across his stomach in a desperate bid to keep his organs from spilling out.
On the surface, he had taken only a single slash from Green, but his injuries were far worse than Kingpin’s.
That blade had carved away part of his kidney and stomach before finally clashing against his Adamantium spine.
“How much…
how much fucking money did you take from him?” Kingpin yanked open the ice chest next to him, grabbed a handful of crushed ice with his bare hand, and slammed it hard against the long, torn gash on his chest.
The ice turned red instantly.
Crimson water mixed with melting ice, cascading down his heavily muscled torso.
“Five…” “Five hundred thousand?!” “…Five hundred dollars.” *Hiss—* The veins on Kingpin’s temples throbbed violently.
He didn’t know whether to praise that money-obsessed Green for flying into a rage over five hundred bucks or curse the idiot beside him for taking a paltry five hundred dollars just to mess with the guy.
Five fucking hundred dollars!!
He had lost an eye, taken a blow to the chest that nearly exposed his ribs, and the idiot beside him had almost been bisected on the spot!
“You’re crazy, and he’s even crazier!
Motherfucker!
Both of you are utter lunatics!” Kingpin felt completely wronged, yet all he could do was grit his teeth and swallow the bitter pill.
He grabbed a bottle of whiskey, tipped his head back, and took a heavy swig.
The harsh alcohol burned down his throat, but it couldn’t douse the suffocating rage in his chest.
“So…
what now?” “Double the guards on our territory.
If we’re short-handed, hire more.
Arm every last one of them with a gun, and find a heavyweight broker to negotiate with Green.” Things hadn’t reached a point of absolute ruin just yet, and Kingpin didn’t want to burn all bridges with Green right now.
Perhaps subconsciously, the chill of that blade plunging toward his eyes had snuffed out his boiling rage.
He had to admit that he was genuinely terrified of that maniac.
Because a maniac had no weaknesses.
But he did.
“U-turn.
Pick up my wife and son first!” …
Outside the Life Foundation building, a Ford sedan bearing the SHIELD logo pulled up to a stop.
Green pushed the door open and stepped out.
As the camera at the entrance scanned his face, the tablet held by the doorman lit up with visitor information.
The doorman instantly put on a practiced smile and hurried forward.
“Mr.
Green, no appointment is necessary.
You may go directly to the top floor.” “Mm.” Green cast a backward glance at the driver’s seat.
Hill sat there with a neutral expression—or rather, she hadn’t moved an inch.
“Nick is very interested in you,” she said, her voice slightly raspy.
“He might find time to meet you.” “I’d better not find a bald black egg in my house using my spatula to fry eggs.” Leaving those words behind, Green turned and walked toward the building.
The doorman offered a polite smile to the expressionless female agent inside the car before quickly following after Green.
He hadn’t heard anything, nor did he need to.
Hill rested her hand on her gun grip, watching Green’s retreating back with a complex expression.
The man’s back was completely unguarded right before her eyes.
A single shot to the back of his head, and all of this—the humiliation, the forced submission—would finally be over.
Yet her finger froze outside the trigger guard.
Her body was defying her will.
It had to be!
How could her soul truly be corrupted by a villain like him?
She released her grip, but her brain involuntarily flashed back to those images—how she had actively straddled him…
“What am I thinking!” She struck her own forehead, sending a throb of pain through the torn corners of her mouth.
She adjusted the rearview mirror, only then seeing that both corners of her mouth were torn into tiny, swollen red slits.
“Damn you, Green.” Gritting her teeth, she grabbed a water bottle from the glove compartment and rinsed her mouth vigorously, trying to wash away the thick, coppery taste.
Then she turned on the car radio.
*Beep…* “Hill, why has your channel been radio silent lately?” A crisp female voice suddenly came through.
“System calibration.
Why are you patching in, May?” Hill recognized the voice.
“A soldier on the military’s side injected himself with Bruce Banner’s blood.
Nick heard about it and went over in person.” On the other end of the line, Asian female agent Melinda May stood in a spacious hangar.
From behind her sunglasses, her gaze swept over the technicians servicing a heavy transport aircraft.
“I’m covering for him temporarily.
Are you alright?
Your voice sounds a bit raspy.” “I’m fine.
How’s your psychological evaluation going?
Will it affect your field duty?” Hill cleared her aching throat.
“What do you think?
Nick approved me back for active duty.
I’m good.
Heading to the SHIELD Academy now to pick out a few promising recruits.” “Got it.” “By the way, that asset you’re managing…
can you control him?
SHIELD’s psychological profile on him is a mess, and his network is complicated.” “Don’t worry, I have a solid handle on seventy to eighty percent of it.
As for the rest…
I’m working on it.” Hill pulled the car door shut and put on her headset.
“Be careful.
Don’t fall in too deep.
People like him have a naturally dangerous pull.” “…I know.” “Signing off.” “Copy that.” Hill switched off the radio, and the screen returned to the navigation interface.
“Phew…” She rubbed her temples hard and shot a resentful glare back in the direction Green had gone.
“Of course I know!” She stepped on the accelerator, and the car slowly drove away from the building.
“Hmph.” Walking toward the revolving door with his back turned, Green let a playful smirk curve his lips.
How could he fail to sense that fleeting urge to kill?
But he knew she couldn’t pull the trigger.
He had long seen her at her most vulnerable and broken state, locking her completely under his thumb.
Her loyalty might still belong to SHIELD, but her body—every tremor, every gasping surrender—had already yielded to him in primitive desire.
The doorman escorted him into a private elevator.
Green pressed his thumb against the scanner, and the doors slid open.
He stepped inside while the doorman remained outside, bowing slightly until the metal doors closed.
The elevator ascended smoothly, with virtually no sensation of inertia.
The floor indicator flashed rapidly across the screen before coming to a stop at “135.” *Ding—* The elevator doors slid open to both sides.
Outside stood a young man in a suit, spinning a Rubik’s Cube with one hand.
He raised his head, a smile spreading across his face.
“Welcome to the Life Foundation, Mr.
Green.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you.
I am Carlton Drake.”