Bang!
A gunshot rang out.
The shooter was one of the squad’s best marksmen.
Yet all they heard was the bullet slamming into a concrete wall.
The intended target…
Hadn’t even been grazed.
Even the shooter stared at his pistol in disbelief.
He was certain there was nothing wrong with his weapon.
He had aimed directly at the man.
So why had he missed?
Every member of the squad had the same question.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the time to dwell on it.
Bruce clearly wasn’t the kind of opponent who would patiently let them figure out why they couldn’t hit him within seven paces.
Dodging the bullet in a blur, Bruce disappeared from their sight once again.
As he moved, he casually extinguished every light source throughout the underground chamber.
Instantly…
The agents were blind.
When Bruce emerged again, the branding knuckle-dusters on his fists had already been heated until they glowed a searing red.
They danced up and down through the darkness.
Bruce grabbed one of the agents, clamping his wrist in an iron grip to prevent any resistance.
Then—
With his other hand, he smashed the man’s elbow.
Crack!
“AAAHHH!!”
Caught completely off guard by the agony, the agent screamed involuntarily.
Before their commander could even issue an order, the remaining agents had already made what they believed was the only correct decision.
Unless they wanted to end up like the men Bruce had already taken down…
They had no choice.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
A barrage of gunfire erupted.
The muzzle flashes illuminated the darkness in rapid succession.
Those flashes carried more than bullets.
They carried fear.
The wounded agent Bruce had just crippled was instantly shredded by his own teammates’ crossfire.
By the time it was over…
There was hardly anything left of him.
The forensic team would probably recover little more than scattered fragments buried beneath piles of bullets.
Objectively speaking…
The agents had achieved a result.
They had successfully turned one of their own into minced meat.
But what about Bruce?
His tailored suit hadn’t even gathered much dust.
For a bat…
An environment like this was simply perfect.
Bruce could clearly see it.
Fear had begun consuming them.
None of them could tell whether they were fighting a man…
Or a ghost.
If he were merely human…
How could he repeatedly evade every bullet they fired? New chapters come out on g.com first.
Only some supernatural phantom could move like that.
And if he truly was one…
Then this tactical unit—trained only to handle ordinary emergencies—stood no chance.
They needed professionals.
“What… are we fighting?”
The moment someone voiced the question, it meant his psychological defenses were already beginning to collapse.
“Silence.”
The commander answered him with nothing but a cold command.
The agent forcibly swallowed his fear.
How much longer he could keep it buried…
No one knew.
As panic spread through the squad…
Their combat effectiveness began to decline.
What had been slightly troublesome for Bruce moments ago…
Now became much easier.
After all, Bruce had never expected to find HYDRA operating behind Kingpin.
He had come here wearing nothing more than a lightweight bulletproof vest beneath his suit and carrying a simple bat mask in case he needed to conceal his identity.
Charging in head-on from the beginning had never been an option.
Still…
The situation served as a valuable reminder.
This was a real world.
He couldn’t simply rely on what had happened in the movies.
At Spider-Man’s funeral…
Captain America hadn’t appeared in the film.
Yet in this world…
Every hero who had ever crossed paths with Peter Parker had attended.
That wasn’t something anyone could fake.
“Fall back.”
The commander finally gave the retreat order.
They were facing an enemy they couldn’t understand.
The relentless physical pressure…
Combined with the psychological strain…
Was pushing even him to his limit.
As the commander, he could already feel his nerves nearing the breaking point.
If even he was reaching his limit…
What about the agent who had spoken up earlier?
For someone already on the verge of panic…
This darkness had become pure terror.
His priority now was simple.
Get his surviving men back to the surface.
Unfortunately…
Bruce had no intention of allowing that.
He had already singled out the nervous agent.
That man stood on the edge of a complete mental breakdown.
One final push…
And he would become the opening Bruce needed to dismantle the rest.
Wearing the bat mask, Bruce suddenly appeared directly in front of the terrified agent.
Then, just as quickly…
He vanished back into the darkness.
It lasted only an instant.
But Bruce knew…
The man had seen his face.
In the agent’s mind, the bat mask was no longer a mask.
His terrified imagination transformed it into the face of a horned demon.
His mind finally snapped.
Ignoring every order from his commander, he raised his rifle and began firing wildly into the darkness.
The deafening gunfire echoed through the underground chamber.
Each burst of muzzle flash briefly illuminated Bruce’s figure before darkness swallowed him once more.
The squad’s previously disciplined formation immediately descended into chaos.
Exactly what Bruce had been waiting for.
From the panicked agent’s perspective…
Every shot he fired was aimed directly at Bruce’s elusive silhouette.
Yet none of them landed.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Eventually…
His magazine ran dry.
The empty clicks echoed through the chamber.
Alongside them came the agonized screams of his teammates.
Bruce’s fists had already left marks on them that would remain for the rest of their lives.
The Bat…
Had chosen them as its prey.
The broken agent collapsed onto the floor.
He no longer had the strength to stand.
All he could do was watch as one teammate after another was effortlessly knocked unconscious by the demon in the business suit.
Finally…
Bruce stopped before him.
Only a single fist remained.
The blazing bat emblem pressed into his shoulder blade, branding him with the same unmistakable mark.
By the time HYDRA reinforcements arrived…
All they found was a room full of fallen agents.
And everywhere…
The unmistakable symbol of the Bat.
Crossbones’ expression immediately turned grim.
He examined one unconscious agent before speaking.
“None of the injuries are fatal.”
“But every strike is designed to incapacitate as quickly as possible.”
“Troublesome.”
After a moment of silence, he looked toward the spot where the notebook and folders had once been.
“It seems our earlier assessment was wrong.”
“That man probably isn’t a supervillain.”
“He’s more like a superhero.”
He snorted.
“Only costumed freaks leave survivors.”
Crossbones clapped his hands.
“We don’t keep agents who fail their mission.”
The surrounding operatives immediately performed HYDRA’s signature salute.
The next moment…
They raised their guns.
Not at an enemy—
But at their own fallen comrades.
Bang.
(End of Chapter)