*Click!* The door gap clicked shut.
*Thwip-thwip!* Tranquilizer darts shot from the muzzle.
The faint sound of the door closing masked the suppressed gunshots.
Green stepped forward quickly, catching their collapsing bodies.
The tranquilizer hadn’t fully taken effect yet; their eyes twitched, reflecting the man’s figure in their dilating pupils.
Panic spread alongside their widening pupils, but quickly subsided into stillness.
Green finally let out a slow breath.
His heartbeat gradually stabilized, but in the next second, he held his breath again.
He remembered the twins outside the door.
If he recalled correctly, one of them had abnormally keen hearing—an elevated heart rate or a single extra breath could get him detected.
As for how he found this place, it was simply by using a little cash while enjoying brunch to buy real-time intel online.
Then, tracking the troop deployment routes of several lieutenants under Kingpin, he locked onto this location in advance.
However, after entering the hotel, if a few henchmen hadn’t hauled gaming equipment into the room, he wouldn’t have pinpointed the exact room number so accurately.
Green remained silent, treading lightly as he gently placed the two on the floor.
He drew two brooch-sized discs from his tactical belt and attached them to the backs of their necks.
Six slender claws popped out from each disc, piercing the skin, latching onto a segment of the spinal nerve, and releasing a faint electrical current.
He raised his left hand, flicking his fingers across a wrist device.
A mini screen lit up, displaying 3D holographic models of the two.
A micro-camera on the side flashed blue, and a translucent command keyboard unfolded in midair.
Green entered a command into Vanessa’s model: “Splits.” The next second, Vanessa’s body on the floor responded.
Her legs suddenly split apart without any flexibility warm-up, her muscle lines tensing instantly into a rigid, textbook front split.
At the same time, her right leg kicked out, shoving the boy beside her a distance away.
Throughout the whole process, neither closed their eyes.
Their empty gazes were fixed on the ceiling, their consciousness trapped, leaving only their bodies to execute commands.
“Pretty handy.” This disc was called a “Chordate Control Unit,” equipped with an independent network cluster and high-clearance black tech used by SHIELD.
With Green’s Level 1 field agent clearance, he wouldn’t even know it existed, let alone possess it—but Hill did.
At first she refused to hand it over, until she was nearly suffocating before being forced to yield it.
“So next…
should I fight my way out, or pull a Batman-style vanishing act?” Green rubbed his chin and chose the latter.
“Got an idea.” “Alright then, the little Model Media feature directed by Green is about to begin.” …
Downstairs, Kingpin had no idea his base was being raided by a guy lurking in wait.
He walked to the front door.
The scattered henchmen puffing smoke or chatting immediately fell silent.
Tombstone, resting with his eyes closed on a lawn chair, felt the familiar oppressive aura approaching and immediately opened his eyes to stand up.
“Boss.” He bowed his head slightly.
Kingpin didn’t reply right away.
His gaze lingered on Tombstone’s face for a few seconds before he pressed a massive hand heavily onto his shoulder.
“I trust you, Thompson.” “That’s why I’m trusting you to guard my family.
Don’t disappoint me.” The hand tightened, knuckles sinking into the muscle.
Tombstone felt his shoulder bones creak faintly as cold sweat bubbled at his temples.
“I…
understand,” he squeezed the answer out through gritted teeth.
Kingpin didn’t let go immediately.
He held that crushing grip for a few stretched seconds before slowly releasing him.
“Good.” He turned and left, leaving Tombstone standing with his arms hanging down, shoulder lingering with dull pain and invisible heavy pressure.
“Keep a good eye on the door, hehe.” James, following behind, passed by him with a light laugh.
Only when the car engine sound completely faded into the distance did Tombstone raise his head, eyes surging with viciousness and humiliation.
He rubbed his nearly numb shoulder and shattered the lawn chair with a kick.
“Who the fuck said this monster was injured?!
Fuck!” The vehicle swayed gently as it drove.
Kingpin’s massive body sat on the floor, back against the seat, head tilted back.
James pulled over a medical lamp with a bulb, its harsh light shining directly onto Kingpin’s bloodshot glass eye.
He used forceps to carefully touch the edges, but his movements were unskillful, carrying a stiff hesitancy.
“Ugh…” A suppressed grunt rumbled in Kingpin’s throat, his fingers twitching uncontrollably.
There were few people he trusted; James was one of them, so he could only endure this necessary roughness.
In the corner, Bullseye was hooked up to an IV drip.
Surprisingly, the hideous wound on his waist was mostly stitched up, the sutures even quite neat.
The unlicensed back-alley doctor he knew certainly had some skill.
“Your eye socket has a moderate inflammatory reaction, and your body is starting to run a low fever.
You need systematic treatment.” James dropped the murky prosthetic eye into a cleaning solution with a plop.
“I don’t have time,” Kingpin said in a raspy voice.
He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from a small ice bucket nearby, pulled the cork, and took a deep swig.
The icy liquor slid down his throat, bringing a brief moment of numbness to dull the throbbing pain drilling into his eye socket.
“I need to show my face and let the jackals outside see that I’m still alive.
Harrow alone can’t keep order.” “Maybe we can try the cybernetic prosthetic eye from ‘over there,'” James suggested while cleaning his tools.
“‘The Clairvoyant’?” Kingpin used a damp cloth to carefully wipe away the thick pus leaking from the empty eye socket, his movements distorted by pain.
“I don’t think he’d install one for free without side effects.
More likely, he’d add a remote detonation device.
I don’t want a mini bomb placed right next to my brain, even if it’s just a possibility.” He paused, tossing the filthy cloth into a small trash bin in the corner.
“How about the ‘Weapon X’ project Olivia is handling?
Are there any that can be deployed immediately?” “Four ‘finished’ metahumans have passed basic testing,” James pulled up a brief summary table.
“But according to our agreement with Transigen, they have right of first refusal.
Besides, they’re demanding a high price for ‘deploying forces’ this time.” “Greedy scumbags,” Kingpin spat out a low curse and pressed an embedded electronic screen on the vehicle wall.
Blue light flashed, revealing the image of a woman with thick dreadlocks and an astounding volume of hair.
She didn’t look at the camera; her eyes were glued to data streams across multiple side monitors, her ten fingers tapping on the keyboard in a blur.
Four slender, white octopus-like auxiliary tentacles extended nimbly, adjusting instrument parameters, handing over tools, and even brewing coffee, each performing its duties with dizzying efficiency.
“Speak.
What is it?” She pushed up her glasses sliding down her nose, her peripheral vision finally glancing at Kingpin.
“How much longer for the development of the metallic restraint?” Kingpin subconsciously touched his chest.
Beneath the thick bandages, the knife wound left by “Owl” was still aching.
“Those wings of his must be chopped off.” “About twelve more hours,” Olivia spoke rapidly, a tentacle zooming in on a 3D model.
“We were lucky.
We intercepted a batch of A.I.M.
prototype equipment earlier.
We just need to modify it and boost the electromagnetic power output.” “Then hurry.” “When do you need it exactly?” “Tonight.” Kingpin looked out the car window at the blurring streetscape retreating rapidly.
A strong sense of foreboding swirled in his heart.
He didn’t know where Green was hiding or what he was planning, but he had to prepare countermeasures in advance.
“Ah~ fine then,” Olivia drawled.
“I’ll rush it.
Also, Boss, you need to catch my little wolf girl and bring her back.
I still have plenty of experiments left for her…” “Her tracking chip shows she’s active near your area…
though looking at the coordinates, you’re getting further away from her.” “No rush on that.
She can’t escape.” “Works for me.” Olivia ended the call.
Kingpin turned to Bullseye, who had remained silent.
“I’ve arranged a luxury cruise to the Caribbean.
Take enough money, go lay low for a few months, and enjoy yourself.
Don’t stay here as a sitting target.” “Whatever you say, Boss.” Bullseye touched the wound on his waist, not daring to say more.
Soon, the vehicle pulled over in a secluded spot.
Bullseye yanked out the IV needle, picked up a bulging black duffel bag on the seat, opened the door, and quickly slipped into another waiting sedan.
The door closed, and the vehicle resumed its smooth drive.
“Keep an eye on Bullseye,” Kingpin suddenly spoke after a moment of silence, staring out the window.
“…Understood.” James nodded.
Kingpin’s intention was crystal clear: if the situation deteriorated to the point where someone had to draw fire or take the fall, Bullseye was the pre-packaged sacrificial lamb.
Kingpin lowered his gaze.
“Have you contacted that person?” he spoke again.
“Yes, he agreed to step in.” “Hmm…” Kingpin reached into his inner suit pocket, carefully pulling out a slightly worn photo.
The photo’s background was a park.
His massive figure stood behind them.
Vanessa leaned against his side, cradling baby Richard in her arms with a radiant smile, while he bore an honest, simple smile.
Kingpin gazed at the photo, his eyes turning extraordinarily soft.
He stroked the faces of his wife and son on the photo with extreme gentleness using his thumb.
“I won’t let anyone ruin our happiness.” He held the posture for several seconds before carefully tucking the photo back into his inner pocket close to his heart, pressing it lightly.
When he raised his head again, his gaze had restored its usual calm and cold hardness—like a deep pool—as if that fleeting moment of tenderness had never existed.