The head of the last mutant beast of the Underhive was bashed straight into its chest cavity by the shield.
Seth Knight shook the dark green venom off his shield.
Before he could even take stock of his loot, a glaring warning flashed inside his tactical visor.
[Arc Reactor power depleted. Remaining charge under 5%.]
[Replenish palladium immediately.]
[Super power-saving mode forcibly activated.]
Goddammit, I forgot about this!
The Arc Reactor was reusable, but the palladium inside needed to be replenished.
Where the hell am I going to find palladium in the Warhammer world?
Soon, the golden glow on the surface of the Falcon Armor rapidly dimmed.
The power went out.
Without high-purity palladium, this top-tier suit was now just a bulletproof suit of armor made of vibranium.
Seth Knight opened his system space, his gaze sweeping over the junk left behind by his previous “hundred-draw” gacha run.
Aside from the tracking missiles used to level the battlefield, there were also quite a few small items like “Stark Industries Heavy-Duty Capacitors” and “EMP Miniature Concussion Grenades.”
These things were a dime a dozen in Marvel, but in the Hive’s Underhive world, taking out any of them would make it a rare treasure.
“I’ll use you to pay for my travel expenses.”
The filthy Underhive.
The ventilation system was atrocious!
Too stinky—one-star review!
Complaining all the way, Seth Knight arrived at the largest black market in the Underhive—the “Tatooine Bazaar.”
He pushed open the heavy door of a pawnshop named “Gears and Blood.”
Guarding the door were two gang thugs fitted with crude cybernetic limbs.
They glared at Seth, warning him to mind his manners.
Seth ignored them and walked straight to the counter.
Behind the counter sat a black-market boss.
Nicknamed “Viper,” his cybernetic left eye spun around, assessing the value of the customer before him.
“Good stuff for good stuff,” Seth said bluntly, slapping a small pile of heavy-duty capacitors onto the table.
“I want high-purity palladium. Don’t try to pull a fast one on me with junk.”
Viper glanced at them nonchalantly, then picked up a battered energy scanner and brought it close to the capacitors.
*Beep—!*
Viper’s cybernetic eye nearly popped out of its socket.
Top-grade stuff!
Pure surge capacity, flawless industrial craftsmanship!
Viper’s greedy gaze swept over Seth without restraint.
An unfamiliar face.
No large gang insignia on his body.
Just an out-of-town piggy walking down the street carrying a gold bar!
“Palladium? That’s contraband.” Viper grinned, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth.
His right hand slammed down on a red hidden button beneath the table.
*Thud!*
The heavy blast-proof glass door of the pawnshop slammed shut and locked.
The battered iron door to the backroom was kicked open.
Instantly, a dozen gang thugs armed with high-rate-of-fire submachine guns spilled out.
The dark muzzles of their guns all locked onto Seth’s head.
The merchant’s smirk vanished from Viper’s face, replaced by a savage grin.
“Leave the goods, and leave your life too. Your corpse will do nicely to feed the nutrient paste recycler!”
With the pawnshop suddenly locked down, a large crowd of mercenaries and scavengers who made their living in the black market had already gathered outside.
Through the blast-proof glass, they eagerly enjoyed this classic Underhive show: double-crossing the client.
“This outsider is such a greenhorn, daring to show off his wealth on Viper’s turf.”
“He’s a fresh face. I bet Viper’s chainsword will be grinding his guts into mush in a minute.”
“Viper, that old bastard, hit the jackpot again. I bet he’s going to book the entire Pleasure Den No. 16 tonight.”
The dark forest law of the Underhive.
Nobody cared about justice.
They only cared about who held the bigger stick and whose fist was harder.
Behind his tactical visor, Seth rolled his eyes in disdain.
“If you want it, trade for it,” Seth said, growing impatient.
“Trying to rob me? Are you sure you’ll live to enjoy it?”
Seth reached out with his right hand, tightly clamping onto the steel cybernetic wrist of the lead thug charging at him.
So what if he lacked the power assistance of his armor?
The strength boost of the Captain America bloodline was more than enough to teach these Underhive bumpkins a lesson.
*Crack!*
A sharp, ear-splitting sound of tearing metal rang out.
The cybernetic arm was actually snapped in two by Seth’s bare hands, sparks spraying wildly from the fracture!
Before the thug could even process it, Seth delivered a heavy kick square to his chest.
*Bam!*
The heavily augmented thug, weighing well over two hundred pounds, was sent flying backward at a speed that defied physics, as if struck head-on by a heavy dump truck.
He crashed into three of his comrades, bleeding from all seven facial orifices, dead on the spot.
The jeering crowd instantly went silent.
The mercenaries watching outside dropped their jaws, pressing their faces hard against the blast-proof glass in an attempt to see what had just happened.
“Holy shit! How is that possible?!”
“That explosive power… Is he a Chaos-corrupted mutant blessed by the Chaos Gods?!”
Behind the counter, cold sweat instantly broke out on Viper’s forehead, his cybernetic eye humming with an overload warning.
He realized that today, instead of finding a fat sheep, he had stubbed his toe against a titanium-alloy fortress.
“Fire! Kill him! Turn him into Swiss cheese!” Viper retreated hysterically, barking a final order to his remaining thugs.
Muzzle flashes erupted as a dense rain of autogun bullets poured down like a metallic storm.
Seth didn’t even bother to dodge, letting the small-caliber bullets pummel his Falcon Armor.
*Ping!
Ping!
Ping!
Ping!
Ping!*
Sparks flew.
Not even a speck of paint was chipped from the vibranium armor.
The moment the bullets struck, their kinetic energy was completely absorbed, and they fell to the floor like scrap metal, clattering all around.
“Just who the hell are you, sir?! Is that power armor made of ceramite?!” Hidden behind his counter, Viper’s face contorted into a grimace.
This guy was a living god of death!
*Thud.*
Without a moment’s hesitation, Viper executed a smooth, sliding kneel, stopping precisely at Seth’s feet.
Trembling like a leaf, he banged his forehead against the floor, tears and snot smearing across his face.
“M-My Lord! Sir! Grandfather! Spare me! It was my blind cybernetic eye that offended you! Please, in your great mercy, let me go like a bad smell!”
“I’ll only ask once,” Seth said, looking down at him.
“Now, can we do business properly?”
Viper instinctively started to shake his head, then instantly began nodding like a woodpecker.
“Palladium… there is absolutely no such thing in the Underhive!”
“High-grade stuff like that is only found in the hands of the Spire nobles!”
Viper spilled his guts like water from a bucket, terrified his neck would be snapped if he hesitated for even a second.
“But I have channels! I can definitely smuggle some in! Just give me a tiny, tiny, tiny bit of time!”
Seth’s eyes narrowed slightly.
As expected.
Sure enough, finding palladium in the Underhive was a fool’s errand.
“I’ll give you a little time. But there’s another transaction I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Do you even know how to run a proper business?”
“Is this a proper place to talk shop?”
Then, Seth’s eyes darted toward the Underhive hostess club outside the pawnshop.
The digital billboard outside flickered, constantly cycling through images of alluring, hot girls waiting to be rescued.