At the man’s command, the surrounding operatives immediately began their search.
They split into pairs, searching methodically while making sure no one was ever left alone—preventing anyone from impersonating or ambushing an isolated teammate.
Even the man giving the orders moved with a partner at his side.
Their discipline and the meticulous precision of their movements clearly showed just how professional the organization that trained them truly was.
Bruce narrowed his eyes as he watched them.
None of them wore any identifying insignia, but to Bruce, their affiliation couldn’t have been more obvious.
Other than Hydra, who else would dare cause trouble right on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s doorstep?
The only question was what kind of relationship Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. had in this world.
Surely it wasn’t still Hydra inside S.H.I.E.L.D., but no S.H.I.E.L.D. inside Hydra, was it?
If it really was, that would be rather awkward.
At the same time, Bruce was calculating how long it would take to eliminate them.
Hydra agents were certainly capable, but in Bruce’s eyes, they still weren’t much of a threat.
Two Hydra operatives advanced toward Bruce’s position from opposite sides.
It was obvious they were tense.
Anyone capable of silently taking out the two guards Kingpin had stationed at the front entrance was definitely no ordinary burglar.
From the very beginning, they’d classified the intruder as someone with superhuman abilities.
But they hadn’t assumed he was a superhero.
Very few superheroes would simply break into someone’s home and start doing whatever they pleased.
So their conclusion was that he had to be a supervillain.
The problem was that every supervillain they were currently monitoring had been keeping a low profile.
Everyone knew New York was Kingpin’s territory now.
Besides, Spider-Man was already dead.
Hardly anyone was going to interfere in Kingpin’s affairs.
As for the so-called Spider-Man who had recently appeared in Hell’s Kitchen, no one believed he was the real thing.
They dismissed him as nothing more than a poor imitation.
After all, those who had clashed with the supposed Spider-Man later reported that he seemed slightly overweight, like a middle-aged man.
And everyone knew Spider-Man couldn’t possibly let himself go like that.
With everything Spider-Man did every single day, there was simply no way he’d become a middle-aged man with a paunch.
So the only reasonable explanation was that he was an impersonator.
At most, his equipment happened to resemble Spider-Man’s.
Independent inventors weren’t exactly rare in this world.
In the Marvel Universe, “garage science” was real science.
Sometimes it bordered on science fiction.
Now, a superpowered criminal had suddenly appeared within their sphere of influence and effortlessly infiltrated Kingpin’s residence.
They also wanted to determine whether this mysterious newcomer was worth recruiting.
If he proved suitable, upgrading his equipment and providing additional support wouldn’t be a problem.
What they could never have imagined was that the person inside Kingpin’s house wasn’t some supervillain at all.
In another world…
He had always been called a superhero.
Even if Bruce himself never considered himself one.
The moment the two approaching agents stepped into Bruce’s striking range…
The bat moved.
In an instant, he appeared directly in front of one of them.
The agent only had time to see a demonic-looking mask suddenly materialize before his eyes.
The next moment—
A crushing blow slammed into the left side of his head.
His body crashed to the ground instantly.
There was no fading consciousness.
No gradual blackout.
He was unconscious the moment he hit the floor.
His partner reacted immediately, spinning around and reaching for his gun the instant Bruce appeared.
But Bruce was already gone.
The only thing left behind was his unconscious teammate lying on the ground.
Although he’d been trained to handle situations like this, the sheer strangeness of what had just happened filled him with fear.
His eyes darted frantically in every direction.
He couldn’t keep his gaze steady.
Bruce flashed to the agent’s side.
A powerful sweeping kick launched the man into the air.
The instant the agent became airborne, Bruce’s knee was already waiting.
Crack!
Even with the sounds of the other agents rushing toward them, the crisp snap of breaking bone couldn’t be drowned out.
A back-breaking knee strike.
A technique that had once been used against Bruce…
Now Bruce returned it to someone else.
“AAAH!”
After a single scream of agony…
Silence.
The agents hurrying over instinctively came to a halt.
Each glanced at the companions beside him, confirming they were all familiar faces before cautiously advancing again.
Although Bruce’s actions seemed lengthy when described… Find the original chapter at g.com.
In reality, everything had happened within only a few seconds.
Against these men, his combat ability was still overwhelmingly superior.
“Groups of three! Secure the surrounding area!”
The man who had been issuing orders spoke again.
The operatives reacted immediately, rapidly closing ranks with their teammates.
“It’s getting a little troublesome.”
Bruce watched as they slowly tightened the encirclement around him.
Despite his words, there wasn’t the slightest hint of concern in his eyes.
They remained unnervingly calm.
With a flip of his wrist, two weapons resembling brass knuckles appeared in his hands.
Their shape, however, resembled bats with their wings spread wide.
He lightly pressed a button.
The bat emblem instantly glowed crimson.
At that moment…
Bruce stopped bothering to conceal himself.
He stepped forward.
The instant his foot touched the ground, an Eight Extremes Fist elbow strike smashed into an agent’s chest, sending him flying.
The impact was impossible to ignore.
The other agents immediately noticed.
But their reactions were still slower than Bruce’s.
Closing the distance to another operative, Bruce unleashed an uppercut wrapped in crimson light.
The punch launched the man straight into the air.
The instant Bruce’s fist connected with the agent’s jaw…
The smell of burning flesh spread through the air.
These battle-hardened operatives had seen enough weapons and inflicted enough torture to recognize that smell immediately.
Without hesitation, they raised their firearms.
They knew exactly what mattered most.
Even if firing now meant killing one of their own teammates…
That was simply a necessary sacrifice in the execution of the mission.
Besides—
Within seven steps…
A gun was both fast and accurate.
Just grab the PDF and binge the entire story from start to finish!Guys,
(End of Chapter)