Get rid of him.
Such casual words.
So easy to say.
And because of those few words, Ben York had died.
If Venom hadn’t been there, Leon would’ve died in that staged “accident” too.
He would’ve become just another insignificant name among the countless people the Bloodhound Syndicate had erased.
The thought made something inside him burn.
The shattered wall collapsed around Paul Marks.
Chunks of concrete struck him across the head and shoulders, leaving blood running down his face.
Before Paul could even begin digging himself free, black tendrils wrapped around his body and dragged him out of the rubble.
Leon stared down at him.
“Tell me everything you know about the Bloodhound Syndicate.” His voice was barely containing his rage.
“And the Harmon brothers.” Paul breathed heavily.
“Everything.” Leon wanted all of it.
The organization.
Its structure.
Its leadership.
Jon Harmon.
Harvey Harmon.
Every person responsible.
He intended to tear the entire Bloodhound Syndicate apart and use their destruction to honor the innocent man they’d murdered.
Strangely, now that death was unavoidable, Paul seemed calmer.
He had spent most of his adult life in organized crime.
Some part of him had always known it could end like this.
A bullet.
A knife.
A rival crew.
An angry victim.
He simply hadn’t expected the day to arrive so soon.
Or like this.
Paul looked at Leon and, despite everything, found himself wondering about the future of the Bloodhound Syndicate.
The thought almost seemed ridiculous.
This young man had unusual powers.
That much was obvious.
He could overpower one man effortlessly.
Two.
Three.
Maybe more.
But the Bloodhound Syndicate was not one man.
It was an organization built over years.
Money.
Connections.
Weapons.
Men.
Paul couldn’t imagine anyone remaining this calm with dozens of guns pointed at them.
No matter how strong Leon was, surely enough bullets would still kill him.
Paul had no idea how wrong he was.
For most people—even Spider-Man—being trapped under concentrated gunfire from dozens of shooters could be dangerous.
For Venom?
Ordinary bullets were barely worth noticing.
At most, they were something spicy to chew on.
And Leon’s bond with Venom had already begun changing the symbiote in other ways.
Venom’s infamous weaknesses to fire and powerful sonic attacks had become noticeably less severe since bonding with Leon.
The improvement was gradual, but constant.
As Leon grew stronger, Venom did too.
Unless someone started hammering them with heavy explosives or surrounded them with sustained high-intensity flames, ordinary weapons weren’t likely to do much.
And common noise wasn’t enough to trigger Venom’s old weakness either.
Specialized sonic weapons were another matter.
But those were hardly something every street gang kept in storage.
Paul knew none of that.
Half-buried among broken concrete in the dim basement, he began telling Leon everything he knew.
The Bloodhound Syndicate was one of New York’s largest criminal organizations.
And among the major gangs operating in the city, it was arguably the strongest.
Its competitors might have appeared comparable from the outside, but they couldn’t match the Syndicate’s money, connections, or brutality.
Its primary business was narcotics.
According to Paul, the Bloodhound Syndicate controlled close to seventy percent of New York’s illegal drug trade.
Other criminal organizations wanted that territory desperately.
They wanted the money.
The distribution routes.
The suppliers.
The customers.
But none of them had managed to take it.
The Bloodhound Syndicate’s strength didn’t come from numbers alone.
It had deeper backing.
Better resources.
And methods vicious enough to discourage challengers.
Over the years, it had become a genuine giant within New York’s underworld.
At the very top were two men.
The Harmon brothers.
Jon Harmon.
Harvey Harmon.
Jon, the older brother, was the true center of the organization.
The brain.
The strategist.
The man who held everything together.
Even someone at Paul’s level knew surprisingly little about him.
Jon rarely dealt directly with lower-ranking members.
Paul suspected only Harvey and a small circle of trusted people had regular access to him.
Harvey was different.
Paul knew him much better.
Harvey was his direct superior.
If Jon Harmon was the brain and soul of the Bloodhound Syndicate— Harvey was its blade.
He wasn’t considered as intelligent as his older brother.
He didn’t need to be.
Harvey was powerful.
Ruthless.
Violent.
And terrifyingly efficient.
Within the Syndicate, he had a reputation bordering on monstrous.
The man Paul described was the same man Leon had unknowingly crossed paths with during that delivery.
The same man who had beaten a traitor to death.
The same man who had examined the doorway afterward and calmly decided Leon needed to disappear.
At last, the entire picture was clear.
Leon knew how it had started.
He knew who had ordered the hit.
He knew who stood at the top of the organization behind it.
And somehow, understanding everything didn’t make him feel better.
It made him feel worse.
Ben’s death had destroyed Leon’s life.
It had left a wound he knew would never completely disappear.
Yet the reason behind it had been almost absurdly ordinary.
A criminal wanted to avoid inconvenience.
A witness might have seen something.
So— Kill him.
That was all.
To Harvey Harmon, ordering Leon’s death had probably carried no more emotional weight than deciding what to eat for dinner.
Paul finally finished speaking.
He rested weakly against the rubble.
“That’s everything I know.” His voice had become strangely calm.
He looked at Leon.
“Now make it quick.” Paul knew there was no escaping.
Leon had already made that clear.
If death was inevitable, he wanted it over with.
Leon stared at him.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Something twisted inside his chest.
Anger.
Grief.
Hatred.
Disbelief.
Every emotion seemed to collide at once.
Then Leon’s mouth began to curl upward.
A laugh escaped him.
Quiet at first.
Then louder.
“Ha…” Paul frowned.
Leon suddenly dropped to his knees.
One hand covered his face.
“Ha…
hahaha…” The laughter grew sharper.
More frantic.
“Hahahahahaha!” Paul’s calm expression disappeared.
The sound filled the basement.
Even the loose debris around them seemed to tremble beneath the force of Leon’s unstable emotions.
Paul stared at him.
For the first time since accepting his death, fear returned.
The laughter continued for several minutes before gradually fading.
Leon lowered his hands.
Beneath the hood, Venom’s pale white eyes had changed.
A faint crimson hue now bled through them.
Leon looked at Paul.
“I changed my mind.” Paul’s stomach dropped.
Leon stood slowly.
“You told me everything I wanted to know.” His distorted voice echoed through the room.
“But I don’t think I want to let you die easily anymore.” Paul’s composure shattered.
“Kill me!” He shouted desperately.
“You fucking monster!” Leon walked toward him.
“I told you everything!” Paul tried to drag himself backward through the rubble.
“You promised me a quick death!” “Kill me!” Leon stopped in front of him.
Paul screamed again.
“You promised!” Leon looked down at him without sympathy.
“A gangster.” His voice was quiet.
“Human garbage.” “A parasite who spent his life hurting people.” He leaned slightly closer.
“And you think you’re entitled to hold me to a promise?” Paul stared at him.
Leon continued.
“No.” “You don’t get to die quickly.” Black tendrils began extending behind Leon.
Paul’s face turned white.
“I’m going to sever the muscles, tendons, and joints in your arms and legs.” The tendrils sharpened.
“Then I’m going to open your skin.” Paul started shaking his head.
Leon glanced toward the basement entrance.
“You saw the rats outside when you came in, didn’t you?” Paul’s breathing became frantic.
“And the flies.” The first black blade moved.
Paul screamed.
Leon methodically cut through the structures that allowed Paul’s limbs to move.
One after another.
Until the man could do little more than lie helplessly on the floor.
Leon watched him.
“They’ll come for you.” Paul’s eyes widened in horror.
“They’ll eat your flesh slowly.” Leon’s voice remained cold.
“Flies will lay their eggs.” “Maggots will crawl over you.” “Into every wound.” Paul whimpered.
“And you’ll still be alive long enough to feel it.” Leon stared down at him.
“To understand exactly what a fate worse than death feels like.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS SYSTEMATIC_MANIAC Enjoying the novel?
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