12: Chapter 12: Submission or Destruction

"Clang—!"

The heavy steel doors of the Underground Arena slammed down, locking tight.

Panic screams erupted from the surrounding stands as the wealthy and the gamblers scrambled toward the emergency exits like headless flies.

Dozens of fully armed mob gunmen poured out from both sides of the passage, the intense light from their tactical flashlights instantly converging on Lynn in the center of the octagonal cage. Their uniform submachine guns and automatic rifles, with their dark muzzles, locked off all his paths of retreat.

From the speakers in the second-floor VIP box, Kingpin's cold, echoing voice rang out.

"You killed my top moneymaker."

Kingpin's voice echoed in the empty Underground Room, "But I, Wilson Fisk, am a man who appreciates talent. Your strength is quite impressive. Kneel, swear fealty to me, and take Tombstone's place. Tonight's events will be wiped clean, and you'll have a share of the money here."

On the stage, Lynn kept his head down, silent.

The Bloodtrix on his left wrist was emitting a faint red light.

[Mutated Hardening Gene, analysis complete.]

[Permanently solidified into the host's basic physique.]

Feeling the terrifying qualitative change in his muscle fibers and skin density, Lynn slowly raised his head and looked at the one-way bulletproof glass on the second floor.

"Make me submit?"

Lynn grinned, revealing a cold, ferocious smile, "A fat pig who can only hide behind glass—do you think you're worthy?"

Inside the box, Kingpin's face instantly turned ashen, and the cigar in his hand was crushed by his grip.

"Kill him! Turn him into mincemeat!"

Along with the roar from the loudspeaker, dozens of gunmen pulled their triggers simultaneously.

"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!"

Dense gunfire exploded in the Underground Room, deafeningly loud. Hundreds of yellow brass bullets wove into a metallic net of fire, completely covering the octagonal cage.

Lynn didn't dodge, nor did he transform.

He stood where he was, letting the metal storm tear through his thin black tank top.

"Clink, clank!"

The tooth-aching sound of metal clashing rang out repeatedly. Those bullets, enough to turn an ordinary person into a sieve, actually struck Lynn's exposed skin and produced a long string of blinding sparks.

After absorbing Tombstone's mutated gene, Lynn's current epidermal defense was more frightening than high-density armor. Deformed bullet heads clattered onto the steel floor; not even a white mark was left on Lynn's body!

"Hell! He's not human! Fire! Keep firing!"

The gunmen roared in terror, holding down their triggers.

"My turn."

Lynn cracked his neck and turned toward the octagonal cage's fencing used to trap the Beast.

The fencing was entirely welded from solid rebar as thick as a thumb.

Lynn grabbed the rebar with both hands and exerted sudden force from his waist.

"Creeeeak—!"

Amidst the hair-raising sound of twisting metal, the entire section of the cage fencing was torn straight out of the foundation by Lynn!

The muscles in Lynn's right arm bulged as he grabbed a two-meter-long solid rebar and twisted his hands in opposite directions.

"Snap!"

The hard rebar was snapped on the spot, its broken ends incredibly sharp.

"Whoosh—!"

Lynn pulled his arm back and threw it forward with a sudden thrust.

A rebar javelin over a meter long instantly broke the sound barrier, letting out a piercing shriek in the air.

"Pfft!"

A heavily armored gunman in the front, along with his bulletproof vest, was instantly impaled by the rebar. The massive kinetic energy sent his body flying back over a dozen meters, pinning him firmly to the supporting pillar behind him!

Blood gushed down the support pillar.

"Monster... Run!"

The remaining mobsters finally broke down. If even guns couldn't break his defense, how were they supposed to fight?

But Lynn gave them no chance to escape.

His hands became a blur as he continuously snapped rebar from the fence, like a ruthless humanoid catapult, frantically hurling lethal javelins into the crowd.

"Whoosh! Pfft!"

"Aaaagh!"

Every rebar thrown took one or several lives. Some were pierced through the skull, while others were sliced in half.

In just half a minute, dozens of gunmen were wiped out. The Underground Arena had turned into a literal slaughterhouse; fragmented corpses were pinned to the walls and pillars everywhere, and the thick smell of blood was nauseating.

Lynn tossed aside the last piece of rebar and, stepping through the pools of blood, strode toward the accounting office at the back of the casino.

He kicked open the security iron door.

Several accountants responsible for the settlement knelt on the floor, trembling in fear.

Lynn didn't waste words; he grabbed two large black canvas bags used for carrying money and swept several million dollars in cash from the vault, along with those bearer bonds, into the bags.

Carrying the two heavy canvas bags, Lynn walked up to the camera.

Facing the lens, he used a blood-stained index finger to make a throat-slitting gesture across his neck.

Then, he smashed the camera with a punch and turned to leave.

...

Second-floor box.

Kingpin watched the completely black surveillance screen, his chest heaving. The marble desk in front of him, worth hundreds of thousands, was smashed in half by his punch.

"Boss, how do we settle this debt?" Bullseye stood in the shadows, playing with a dart, a hint of morbid excitement in his eyes.

"Issue a city-wide bounty."

Kingpin's voice was as cold as ice, "Ten million dollars! For his head! Get every gang and assassin in Hells Kitchen moving. I want him dead without a whole corpse left!"

...

2 AM. The heavy rain continued.

On the edge of Hells Kitchen, at the end of a remote street, stood an abandoned Gothic church.

The stained glass had long since shattered, and the doors hung half-closed, swaying in the wind and rain.

"Thud."

Lynn kicked open the rotten wooden door and walked into the eerie building carrying the two bags filled with millions of dollars.

The interior of the church was empty and dilapidated, the pews were overturned, and the crucifix at the end was covered in cobwebs.

Lynn walked to the altar and threw the two bags of dirty money on the ground.

He looked around the abandoned church and nodded with satisfaction. Remote enough, large enough—it was perfect as an initial base of operations.

He pulled out the tactical dagger he had scavenged from HYDRA and walked to the mottled white wall behind the altar.

A swift stroke of the blade.

Lynn sliced open the palm of his left hand.

Dark red blood gushed out, but due to his powerful self-healing ability, the wound was closing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Before the wound could heal, Lynn pressed his bleeding palm against the wall and swiped forcefully.

Three strokes.

A huge, crimson inverted triangle symbol appeared in the deepest part of the church.

That was the totem of the Bloodtrix Bloodtrix.

Lynn turned around and looked at the stormy night outside.

From this day forward, Hells Kitchen would have a new name.

[Crimson Court], officially established.