Seventy hours had passed since Frank entered the Abyss of Despair.
During this time.
Frank had tried countless times to climb up, even going so far as to use his teeth to bite the protrusions on the rock wall, just to substitute for his hands and let him climb up a little more!
But even so, Frank’s best record was only climbing two or three meters higher, and the price he paid was a mouthful of good teeth.
“Time is almost up.”
Lord thought silently to himself, “Frank, please don’t force me to kill you with my own hands.”
[Writing up to here, I hope readers will remember our domain name, Taiwan Novel Network, for a great experience and easy reading.]
At the bottom of the Abyss of Despair.
Frank lay weakly on the ground, a hint of bitterness revealing itself on his face.
He had been careless.
He had thought that, as Lord said, finding the power hidden deep within his Soul would be simple.
But after these dozens of hours and countless attempts, Frank was almost in despair, and even began to harbor a trace of suspicion, wondering if Lord was tricking him!
Where was the power hidden deep within his Soul?
In this silent and claustrophobic darkness, Frank had called out countless times, prayed countless times, and even begged, but received no response!
Only the chains grew shorter under the erosion, and now only a short piece remained in front of his chest.
The pain of his Soul and the despair in his heart all foreshadowed that his ending would vanish just like these chains!
But Frank was not resigned.
His consciousness gradually blurring, Frank felt as if he were having a dream.
In the dream, there were his family members, as well as the Souls of the dead who had died under his hands.
These images switched back and forth, flashing like a carousel.
“Drip, drop.”
A cold sensation washed over him.
Frank opened his eyes and found himself lying amidst a ruin.
A heavy rain was pouring down under a gray sky.
The raindrops falling on his body were cold and biting.
Frank slowly climbed up, his eyes a bit dazed: ‘Where is this?’
“This is your inner World.”
A man wearing a white windbreaker appeared, his appearance somewhat similar to Frank’s.
“Who are you?”
Frank instantly raised his vigilance, his muscles tense and ready to counterattack at any moment.
“Pitiful and pathetic—”
White Frank said coldly, “Just how many times do I have to call out before you can hear my name?”
Frank’s gaze turned cold: “I have never seen you before. Who on earth are you? Why do you look just like me?”
“Can’t you tell yet?”
White Frank sneered, a look of disdain on his face: “I am you, Frank!”
“You are me?”
A flash of inspiration crossed Frank’s mind, and he suddenly thought of what Lord had said earlier, asking subconsciously: “You are the power hidden in my Soul that Lord mentioned?”
“You could say that.”
White Frank said indifferently, “But to be precise, it should be your Shinigami power.”
“That’s great!”
“Give you power?”
Hearing this, White Frank’s eyes grew slightly cold, “Frank, you might have misunderstood one thing.”
“What do you mean?”
Frank frowned slightly, puzzled: “Aren’t you my power?”
“Tell me, what do you want?”
White Frank said in a cold voice.
“I—”
Frank suddenly froze, momentarily not knowing how to answer this question.
“Yeah, what do I want?”
In the past, he had never thought about these things; he had simply relied on his anger to seek revenge and eliminate all evil!
But when White Frank asked, Frank suddenly didn’t know how to answer this question.
“Frank,”
White Frank said indifferently: “Do you remember how many lives have fallen under your gun barrel?”
“Is it one hundred, two hundred?”
“Or one thousand, two thousand?”
“And what are you pursuing?”
“Revenge?”
“Or upholding justice?”
“Or simply venting your anger?”
“Tell me, Frank!”
“Are you currently an Avengers, or a Punisher?”
Frank clenched his fists, veins bulging on his forehead: “Is there any difference?”
“There is a difference.”
White Frank’s gaze was profound: “I need to know your answer. Tell me your truest answer, Frank!”
Frank fell silent.
Just as White Frank said, much of the time, he himself couldn’t figure it out anymore.
Was he an Avengers swallowed by anger, or a Punisher executing justice?
Frank lowered his head, his eyes filled with loneliness as he muttered to himself:
“I have despaired once.”
“I have also been lost once.”
“Whenever I recall that day when the bullets of evil pierced through their chests, my anger becomes uncontrollable, almost devouring my sanity!”
“I am very well aware”
“that as long as there are interests in this World, evil can never be eradicated. This is a helpless and endless war!”
“Anger is my bullet!”
“Hatred is my blood!”
“And justice is my belief!”
“Since laws and order cannot judge, let me become the Punisher to uphold that ridiculous and Pale Justice!”
“Violence with violence, blood for blood!”
“Evildoers shall be executed!”
Frank’s eyes were bloodshot, roaring almost like a beast.
Invisible Spiritual Pressure vibrated, stirring up a towering tornado!
“Remember your belief at this moment.”
White Frank revealed a smile, carrying a hint of gratification and a trace of pity:
“Call out, Frank!”
“Call my name!”
“Boom!!!”
A scorching flaming meteor rushed straight into the sky from the bottom of the pit, and then quickly fell back onto the ground!
“Oh?”
Lord raised his eyebrows slightly and said with a smile, “It seems you have succeeded, Frank.”
Frank, dressed in a black windbreaker with a huge white skull printed on the back, held his unique Zanpakuto in his hand!
Unlike Lord’s Zanpakuto, Frank’s Zanpakuto had the style of a standard Western knight sword.
This sword had no gorgeous appearance or dazzling decorations; it was just an ordinary and simple sword that was easily overlooked!
“This sword—”
Lord’s gaze fell on that knight sword, feeling slightly surprised in his heart.
The Zanpakuto was the materialization of one’s Soul.
In other words, its style, appearance, and abilities were all related to an individual’s Soul.
But Frank’s Zanpakuto turned out to be an ordinary Western knight sword, which was somewhat beyond Lord’s expectations.
“Thank you.”
After thanking Lord, Frank turned to look at the sword in his hand and muttered, “Is this my power?”
“Congratulations.”
Lord clapped his hands and said, “Starting today, you are no longer the Punisher Frank, but the Shinigami—Frank!”
“Heh.”
Frank grinned and shook his head, saying, “Compared to the title of Shinigami, I like Punisher a bit more.”
“Then, the third lesson~”
Lord drew the blade from his cane and aimed it at Frank: “Come, let me see the ability of your Zanpakuto.”
Rather than Frank calling himself Shinigami, he was more curious about what abilities this seemingly ordinary sword actually had.
“Alright!”
Frank didn’t object either, and said with a smile, “I was almost killed by you; it wouldn’t be too much to let me slash you a couple of times, right?”
Lord said with a smile, “If you can do it.”
“Be careful, Lord.”
Frank stroked the blade with his rough hands, a heavy look flowing in his eyes as he lowed: “It’s my first time using it; if I accidentally hack you to death, I won’t take responsibility!”
“Come on!”
Lord’s eyes narrowed slightly, and his massive Spiritual Pressure was released instantly, like a landslide and tsunami, whipping up gusts of wind and waves out of thin air!
Frank held his sword horizontally across his chest, glaring angrily, let out a low roar, and chanted:
“Justice is Pale and humble, but by no means a powerless thing!”
“Shikai—Pale Justice!!!”