The battle ended quickly.
Although Frank possessed an extremely high level of tactical skill, his precise curved shots, combined with the different abilities of his left and right Gun-Blades, had caused Lorde quite a bit of trouble.
However, against a serious Lorde, Frank could only admit defeat in the end.
One strike.
Shikai-released Shinsō broke the sound barrier, piercing straight through Frank’s abdomen with such precision that he didn’t even have time to react.
It was only a moment later that his pain receptors finally registered the injury.
As for Lorde, aside from his clothes being slightly damaged, he was practically unscathed.
Frank was clearly surprised by the outcome.
He hadn’t expected the gap between them to be this enormous.
Lorde, however, thought the result was perfectly normal.
Battles between Gods of Death were, in essence, battles of spiritual pressure.
No matter how powerful one’s Zanpakutō was, or how skilled they were in Kendo, Kidō, or Hakuda, the ultimate deciding factor was still spiritual pressure.
Just look at the Captain-Commander of the Soul Society, the strongest God of Death in a thousand years: Genryūsai Yamamoto.
The true terror of the Captain-Commander didn’t lie solely in his Ryūjin Jakka, but in his own overwhelming spiritual pressure.
Even without his Zanpakutō, he could still crush ninety percent of the Gods of Death.
Therefore, Frank’s defeat was nothing to be ashamed of.
After all, he had only recently become a God of Death.
Although he could already release his Zanpakutō’s Shikai, his spiritual pressure was only at the eighth level, equivalent to that of an ordinary God of Death.
Going up against Lorde, a Lieutenant-level God of Death, and being completely overwhelmed while his Zanpakutō was in Shikai…
Wasn’t that only to be expected?
“I’ll remember this wound,” Frank said grimly.
“Next time, I’ll definitely put a hole in your stomach too!”
Anyone who had been stabbed through the stomach would probably be just as unhappy as Frank.
“Sure.
If you can manage it.”
Lorde shrugged as though he didn’t care.
Still, he felt Frank probably wouldn’t get that opportunity in this lifetime.
With his Golden Finger, Lorde would continue growing at an incredible rate, and the gap between them would only become wider and wider.
Perhaps one day…
He would be able to casually crush a Captain-class God of Death, just like Aizen.
That day won’t be far away.
Lorde silently clenched his fist.
With the Soul King Nurturing System, surpassing Aizen was only a matter of time.
But back to the present.
Lorde genuinely appreciated Frank.
It wasn’t just because of his impressive tactical abilities.
More importantly, Frank possessed an extraordinary ability to adapt to unfamiliar situations.
Every God of Death possessed a Zanpakutō, but very few could perfectly adapt to their own abilities and maximize their potential.
Most Gods of Death needed many years of cultivation and countless battles before they could truly master their Zanpakutō.
Frank was different.
As the Punisher, Frank possessed an extremely sharp combat instinct, exceptional tactical ability, and an unwavering willpower.
More importantly, he knew how to turn all of those qualities into practical combat power.
Frank’s left Gun-Blade could consume an indefinite amount of spiritual power according to the user’s will, creating different types of specialized bullets.
At present, he had six known types:
Explosive.
Acceleration.
Fire.
Poison gas.
Shotgun.
Freezing.
There might be even more types in the future.
His right Gun-Blade was even more unusual.
It could condense Reishi into bullets and fire them directly into a soul’s body, producing various effects.
These bullets could even be used on other people.
One of them was called “Until Death.”
Its effect was similar to adrenaline, but the enhancement it provided far exceeded anything ordinary adrenaline could achieve, making it a desperate trump card in battle.
Another type of bullet possessed a healing effect similar to Kaidō when fired into someone’s body.
It could be said that Pale Justice was perfectly suited to the Punisher’s fighting style.
“So, Frank,” Lorde asked calmly, “you have power now.
What do you plan to do next?”
Frank froze for a moment.
Then his eyes quickly filled with flames of fury.
“Is that even a question?”
He hadn’t forgotten who had caused him so much suffering.
The culprit who had nearly cost him his life.
Bullseye.
The executioner hired by Kingpin.
The evil surrounding that man’s soul was so deep that even throwing him into Hell probably wouldn’t be enough to wash it away.
“Of course, I’m going for revenge!”
Frank’s eyes were filled with murderous intent as a ferocious smile appeared on his face.
“Blood for blood.
Violence for violence.
That’s the Punisher’s way.”
“Good luck.”
Lorde stepped back slightly and gestured toward the exit.
“I will.”
Frank nodded firmly.
“When I return, my life will be yours.”
Frank wasn’t someone who made promises lightly.
But to the man standing before him—the man who had given him power and a second chance at life—Frank was willing to make his ultimate commitment.
“That’s not necessary.”
Lorde shook his head with a faint smile.
“Frank, I saved you simply because I wanted to.
Your life belongs to you, not to anyone else.
You don’t need to repay me with your life.”
He paused before continuing.
“Offering your life or loyalty simply because of admiration or gratitude is, in my opinion, one of the most foolish things you can do.”
Trying to control someone by exploiting a debt of gratitude was the lowest form of manipulation.
Lorde had no interest in doing that.
Even if Frank agreed today, how long would that kind of relationship last if his loyalty wasn’t genuine?
So…
There was no need to rush.
Lorde preferred to cast a long line and wait for the right catch.
The favor Frank owed him wasn’t going anywhere.
Sooner or later, Frank would willingly come to his side.
“Fine.
Since you insist.”
Frank looked deeply at Lorde and sighed.
“Your words always make sense.
I’ll do as you say.
I’ll use my own eyes to determine whether you’re someone worth following.”
…
Fisk Tower
Fisk Tower.
The headquarters of the biggest crime lord in the United States.
The man known as the King of the Underworld, Kingpin, lived on the top floor of this very building.
“Kingpin…”
“Bullseye…”
Under the moonlight, Frank stood outside Fisk Tower in a black trench coat, looking like a Grim Reaper preparing to claim another life.
A crimson murderous intent flashed through his eyes.
“Your time of death…
has arrived.” Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Frank slowly walked toward Fisk Tower.
Places that had once required painstaking effort to infiltrate were no longer a problem for him.
In his spiritual form as a God of Death, ordinary humans without spiritual power couldn’t see him.
The building was brightly lit and luxuriously decorated.
Frank walked straight through the middle of it, yet the guards patrolling the halls didn’t notice him at all.
“Let’s start here…”
Frank murmured to himself.
His Zanpakutō was already in Shikai.
Pale Justice.
Without unnecessary words.
Without warning.
Frank began his slaughter.
“For the sinful, there is no need for mercy.”
Bang!
A roaring bullet tore out of the chamber and instantly pierced the chest of a burly man in a suit.
The man collapsed, dead before he even understood what had happened.
The other guards witnessed the scene and immediately erupted into chaos.
“What happened?!”
“Pill is down!”
“There’s an intruder!”
“Someone’s attacking us!”
Bang!
Another bullet tore through someone’s head.
Blood and fragments splattered across the man standing beside him.
“Help!
Somebody help me!”
“Open fire!
Open fire!”
“Where is he?!”
“Where’s the intruder?!”
Frank remained completely expressionless.
His Gun-Blade roared repeatedly as bullet after bullet tore through their bodies.
“It’s…
it’s a demon!”
“We can’t even see him!”
“Kill him!
Kill him!”
“Don’t kill me!
I was wrong!”
In the face of Death, all beings were equal.
When these men stood on the side of evil and bullied the weak, had they ever considered that one day they might encounter someone stronger than themselves?
Apparently…
They hadn’t.
“Evil must be punished.”
Frank ignored their pleas and screams.
His expression remained cold as he pulled the trigger again and again, harvesting their lives without hesitation.
Listen…
That was the sound of Death.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The screams and pleas gradually faded into silence.
Frank stepped over the blood and corpses scattered across the floor and continued toward the top floor of Fisk Tower.
Tonight…
The moonlight was truly beautiful.