Seventy hours had passed since Frank entered the Abyss of Despair.
During that time, Frank had tried countless times to climb out.
He had even resorted to biting the protrusions in the rock wall with his teeth when his hands could no longer help him, desperately trying to climb even a little higher.
But despite all his efforts, Frank’s best attempt had only taken him two or three meters higher—and cost him several good teeth in the process.
“Time…
It’s almost up.”
Lorde’s voice was calm, but there was a trace of concern in his eyes.
“Frank…
Don’t force me to kill you.”
At the Bottom of the Abyss of Despair
Frank lay weakly on the ground, his face filled with bitterness.
He had been careless.
He had believed Lorde when he said that finding the power hidden deep within his Soul would be simple.
But after dozens of hours and countless attempts, Frank was nearly at his breaking point.
He had even begun to wonder whether Lorde had been lying to him.
Where is the power hidden deep within my Soul?
In that silent, suffocating darkness, Frank had called out countless times.
He had prayed.
He had begged.
But there had been no response.
Nothing.
The only thing that remained was the chain on his chest, now reduced to a short, corroded fragment.
The pain in his Soul and the despair weighing on his heart seemed to foreshadow his inevitable end.
Soon, even that final piece of the chain would disappear.
But Frank wasn’t willing to give up.
His consciousness gradually began to fade.
His vision blurred.
And then…
He felt as though he had fallen into a dream.
His family appeared before him.
Then came the Souls of those who had died by his hand.
One scene after another flashed before his eyes, constantly changing like images inside a revolving lantern.
Drip…
Drop…
A cold sensation suddenly landed on his face.
Frank slowly opened his eyes.
He found himself lying among a pile of ruins beneath a gray sky.
Heavy rain poured from above.
The raindrops struck his body, cold enough to send a chill through his bones.
Frank slowly pushed himself upright, his eyes still unfocused.
“Where…
am I?”
“This is your Inner World.”
A man wearing a white trench coat suddenly appeared in front of him.
The man looked strangely familiar.
In fact…
He looked almost exactly like Frank.
“You…
Who are you?”
Frank immediately became alert.
His muscles tensed as he prepared himself to counterattack at the slightest sign of danger.
The man in white looked at him with cold indifference.
“Pitiful…
Truly pathetic.”
Frank’s expression darkened.
“I’ve never seen you before.
Who exactly are you?
And why do you look like me?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
White Frank sneered, a trace of disdain appearing on his face.
“I am you…
Frank.”
“You are me?”
A flash of understanding suddenly crossed Frank’s mind.
He remembered what Lorde had told him.
His voice became uncertain.
“You’re the power Lorde mentioned…
The power hidden within my Soul?”
“You could say that.”
White Frank’s expression remained indifferent.
“But, more precisely, I am your power as a God of Death.”
“Great!”
Frank’s eyes immediately lit up.
“Then give me your power!
Quickly!
If you don’t, I’m going to turn into a monster!”
“Give you my power?”
White Frank’s eyes became slightly colder. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
“Frank, I think you’ve misunderstood something.”
“What do you mean?”
Frank frowned in confusion.
“Aren’t you my power?”
“Then tell me…”
White Frank stared directly into his eyes.
“What do you want?”
“I…”
Frank froze.
For the first time, he realized that he didn’t know how to answer.
What do I want?
He had never really thought about it.
For years, he had simply moved forward, driven by anger and the desire for revenge.
Eliminate all evil.
That had always been enough.
But now that White Frank had asked him the question, Frank suddenly found himself unable to answer.
“Frank…”
White Frank’s voice was calm.
“Do you remember how many lives have fallen beneath your gun?”
“A hundred?
Two hundred?”
“Or a thousand?
Two thousand?”
“What exactly are you pursuing?”
“Revenge?”
“Justice?”
“Or are you simply venting your anger?”
White Frank’s eyes became sharper.
“Tell me, Frank…”
“Are you an Avenger?”
“Or are you The Punisher?”
Frank clenched his fists.
The veins on his forehead bulged.
“Does it really matter?”
“It does.”
White Frank’s gaze became profound.
“I need to know your answer.”
“Tell me the truth, Frank.”
Frank fell silent.
Deep down, he knew White Frank was right.
There had been many times when even Frank himself had become confused.
Was he an Avenger consumed by rage?
Or was he truly The Punisher, someone who existed to deliver justice?
Frank lowered his head.
Loneliness filled his eyes.
“I’ve despaired…”
“I’ve been lost…”
“Every time I remember that day…
the day those bullets tore through their chests…
my rage becomes uncontrollable.”
“It feels like it’s going to consume whatever sanity I have left.”
He slowly clenched his fists.
“I know very well that as long as people are driven by selfish desires, evil can never truly be eliminated.”
“This is a war without end.”
“A hopeless, endless war.”
His voice grew stronger.
“Anger is my bullet!”
“Hatred is my blood!”
“And justice…”
“Justice is my belief!”
Frank raised his head.
“Since the law and the people who enforce it cannot judge them…”
“Then I’ll become The Punisher.”
“I’ll uphold that ridiculous, pale justice!”
“Violence for violence.”
“Blood for blood.”
“This isn’t revenge…”
“It’s punishment!”
“The guilty must be punished!”
“The guilty must die!”
Frank’s eyes became bloodshot.
He practically roared those final words.
At the same time, an enormous wave of Spiritual Power erupted from his body.
The surrounding air began to tremble.
A massive tornado rose into the sky, swirling around Frank with terrifying force.
White Frank watched him quietly.
Then, slowly, a smile appeared on his face.
There was relief in that smile.
But there was also a hint of pity.
“Remember that conviction.”
“Hold on to it.”
“Now…”
“Call out, Frank.”
“Call my name.”
BOOM!!!
A blazing meteor suddenly shot upward from the bottom of the abyss and into the sky before rapidly descending toward the ground.
“Oh?”
Lorde raised an eyebrow.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
“It seems you succeeded, Frank.”
The meteor crashed down.
When the dust finally cleared, Frank stood within the crater.
He was wearing a black trench coat with a large white skull emblazoned across the back.
In his hand was his Zanpakutō.
Unlike Lorde’s Zanpakutō, Frank’s weapon resembled a traditional Western knight’s sword.
There were no elaborate patterns.
No dazzling decorations.
No extravagant design.
It was simply a plain, ordinary sword.
The kind of weapon that could easily be overlooked.
“This sword…”
Lorde’s gaze settled on it, and a trace of surprise appeared in his eyes.
A Zanpakutō was the physical manifestation of its owner’s Soul.
In other words, its appearance, design, and abilities were all connected to the nature of the wielder’s Soul.
Yet Frank’s Zanpakutō had taken the form of an ordinary Western knight’s sword.
That was somewhat unexpected.
“Thank you.”
After thanking Lorde, Frank looked down at the sword in his hand.
“Is this…
my power?”
“Congratulations.”
Lorde clapped his hands.
“From this day forward, you are no longer simply Frank, The Punisher.”
“You are Frank, the God of Death.”
“Heh…”
Frank grinned and shook his head.
“Compared to being called a God of Death, I still prefer The Punisher.”
“Then…”
Lorde smiled.
“Lesson Three~”
He drew the blade hidden within his cane and pointed it directly at Frank.
“Let me see what your Zanpakutō can do.”
More than Frank becoming a God of Death, Lorde was curious about the abilities of this seemingly ordinary sword.
“Alright!”
Frank didn’t object.
Instead, he smiled.
“You almost killed me, so I think you’re allowed to let me take a few swings at you, right?”
Lorde smiled.
“If you can.”
“Be careful, Lorde.”
Frank slowly ran his rough hand along the blade.
His eyes were filled with a heavy, solemn emotion.
“This is my first time using it.”
“If I accidentally kill you…”
“Don’t blame me.”
“Come on.”
Lorde’s eyes narrowed slightly.
In an instant, an overwhelming Spiritual Pressure erupted from his body.
It was like a mountain collapsing.
Like a tsunami crashing against the shore.
The force stirred violent winds from nothing, sweeping across the battlefield.
Frank raised his sword and held it horizontally across his chest.
He stared directly at Lorde.
Then, with a low growl, he recited the words that had awakened his Soul.
“Justice is pale…”
“Humble, but never powerless.”
His Spiritual Power surged.
The blade began to tremble.
Frank’s eyes sharpened.
“Shikai…”
“Pale Justice!!!”