Download App
20.75% Marvel: Warhammer Simulator / Chapter 22: 022, come on, let's burn New York to ashes!

Chapter 22: 022, come on, let's burn New York to ashes!

When Zaire returned home, his aunt was still overseeing the restaurant renovations and hadn't come back yet.

He took out his shoulder bag and packed his Catachan knife and plasma pistol.

Zaire changed into a set of clothes and military boots.

Then, he retrieved a stack of cash from a duffel bag under the bed, planning to leave.

Before heading out, Zaire sent a text message to his aunt, explaining that he was going to do some "part-time" work. Without waiting for her reply, he turned off his phone and tossed it onto the bed.

Zaire walked out of the apartment and began his preparations. Facing a whole gang of core members, his proven killing techniques and the powerful plasma pistol were sufficient. However, he still needed some auxiliary means to prevent them from escaping and scattering. So, as his shopping list grew, he had to buy another hiking backpack as a container.

After finishing his shopping, Zaire walked down the street, feeling an unbearable hunger. He looked around and found a hot dog stand. He began eating voraciously. In a short time, the vendor could barely keep up with his eating speed. After consuming fifteen hot dogs, Zaire paid the bill while the vendor looked at him with awe.

Zaire turned to leave, but he hadn't walked far when he heard a pleading voice behind him:

"Excuse me, sir, could you look at this missing person flyer?"

Zaire raised an eyebrow and turned back.

"Mike?"

"Uh… Zaire?"

Standing before him was Mike, the apprentice and handyman at the delicious restaurant. Mike hadn't recognized Zaire at first because he looked so different from before. Only when Zaire spoke did Mike's memory align with the Zaire in front of him.

"Oh my God… Young people in their growth period are truly a miracle of life," Mike instinctively exclaimed.

"Maybe, Mike. Still no news about your brother?" Zaire asked politely, taking the flyer from Mike and glancing at it. The flyer was crudely made, with only a black-and-white photo and contact information. The photo showed a boy with a missing front tooth, a deformed left hand, and a birth defect in his ear. Despite his imperfections, the boy's bright smile left a strong impression.

"Nothing… It's like he vanished into thin air." Mike's face was full of anxiety and exhaustion. He forced a bitter smile and said, "Mom is on the verge of a breakdown, so I have to step up, but Jerry has been missing for so long…"

Mike didn't finish, but Zaire understood. He silently nodded, folded the flyer, and stuffed it into his shoulder bag. "Have you tried asking the media for help? You must have seen the recent big news. Now is a good time to pressure the police."

"Of course, I tried, but the media is surrounded by parents with missing children…"

Mike shook his head with a helpless sigh. "Rich families can go on TV and tell their warm stories, but families like ours from poor neighborhoods can only get a small missing person notice in the papers… Better than nothing, I guess."

After hearing Mike's words, Zaire was speechless. He pondered for a moment and took out a small stack of cash from his pocket. It was the leftover money from his shopping, fifteen hundred dollars. Zaire kept five bills for himself and gave the rest to Mike. Mike's eyes widened in shock, and his dark skin seemed to flush. He repeatedly refused, "No, no, Zaire… This is too much!"

"Mike, take it. Consider it an advance on your salary," Zaire said with a smile. "My aunt is still waiting for her handyman apprentice to come back to work."

"Thank you!" Mike's eyes seemed to moisten. He choked up but held back his tears. "Thank you. I just don't know how to thank you…"

"Finding Jerry is the best thanks. No need to say more… After all, friends need to help each other, right?"

Zaire said seriously. Seeing Mike carefully put away the cash without further refusal, Zaire said goodbye and left. He had an important "part-time" job to do.

--------------

Hell's Kitchen, Baby Store.

As the third-generation leader of the tracksuit mafia, Fat Bob was as massive as a wild boar, and his behavior was just as similar. Greed was his feeding instinct, and brutality was his reproductive desire. This was why he could control the entire gang, at least until a few days ago.

Now, Fat Bob could only curl his huge body on a dusty sofa, eating furiously while staring at his phone. He was waiting for a call from the Kingpin, a call that could save his gang and his life. However, even after filling his stomach with overly sweet tomato pasta, the phone remained silent.

Fat Bob gradually fell into despair and deep pain. He realized that the once-dominant tracksuit mafia had been abandoned. The Kingpin's empire did not want to attract more attention from the public and the authorities. The tracksuit mafia had to disappear, both physically and spiritually.

"Useless! You're all useless!"

At that moment, Fat Bob's plump cheeks quivered. Bang— He threw the can of tomato pasta on the floor. The thick dust mixed with the red sauce looked like shattered red intestines.

"Damn Kingpin! Damn NYPD! Damn New Yorkers!"

As time passed, Fat Bob's eyes turned blood-red, and he appeared insane. His entire body trembled violently. It seemed the immense pressure of reality had driven him to a mental breakdown.

Just then, Fat Bob struggled to get up. He moved his legs, like a rampaging wild boar, and rushed out of the store.

Thud, thud, thud!

The heavy footsteps caught the attention of the gang members downstairs. They looked up with varied expressions, gazing at Fat Bob standing on the store's stairs.

"I declare, tonight… tonight, we will give New York City a big 'surprise'!"

With blood-red eyes, Fat Bob slowly raised his hands, clenching them into fists. He shouted crazily:

"Do you want to eat fresh food?"

"Do you want to sleep with beautiful women?"

"Do you want to walk freely in the sunlight?"

"So what if the police are hunting us?"

"So what if the Kingpin abandoned us?"

"Are we supposed to be scared?"

"We are the gang that rules New York! We have plenty of weapons and ammunition!"

"Come on! Bring your guns and join my crazy party!"

Fat Bob's spittle flew as he raved like a madman. However, his passionate speech did not resonate with anyone. The gang members exchanged silent glances, a cold glint flashing in their eyes.

At that moment, Fat Bob stood on the stairs, panting heavily and sweating profusely. He keenly noticed the undercurrents among the gang members. Fat Bob's chubby face twisted into a deranged grin.

"Anyone who joins the party will share the gang's funds!"

"You can split the money right now!"

"After the party, if we succeed, you can also share the cleaned funds in overseas accounts…"

"Equally!"

Before Fat Bob finished speaking, nearly forty gang members smiled knowingly.

Click, click, click—

The sound of countless guns being loaded almost merged into one.

"Come on… Let's burn this city to ashes!"

---------------

If this novel hit the number one spot in the rankings, I promise to reward you with a new chapter every single day!

If you want? You get to read the next chapters before anyone else! Just go to pateron get chapters in advance: patreon.com/THE_INDRA_


Chapter 23: 023, 'baby' massacre!

Clad in an oversized bulletproof vest, Fat Bob's bloodshot eyes glared around the dimly lit room, scanning his eager subordinates, who were rubbing their hands in anticipation. The deranged smile on his face twisted with madness.

"Tomorrow morning... the whole of New York will be shocked! The entire nation, even the whole world, will be stunned! The damn king pin thinks he can hide? Foolish! I, Fat Bob, will use the lives of countless New Yorkers to drag you out into the open! Even if the entire gang is wiped out and the feds launch an investigation afterward, those filthy deals will be exposed to the sunlight! Underground king... you'll become a stray dog! Slavs... never surrender!"

"Good! I've distributed all the money in the warehouse to you!" Fat Bob's face turned red as he grinned, his chubby cheeks shaking with excitement. "Now, it's time for you to repay me! Our only target is to kill as many as you can! Do whatever you want! Before that, the smuggling boats are already docked at the Hudson River port. If all goes well, you will join me on the ship, and we'll share even more wealth!"

"Ura—" Fat Bob raised his fist and shook his arm vigorously, shouting continuously.

"Eh?" At that moment, Fat Bob noticed something.

A blue orb the size of a human head flew past the shelves and appeared right in front of him in the blink of an eye!

Boom—

Plasma exploded instantly.

The brilliant burst of electric light completely engulfed Fat Bob. The extreme heat turned his 200-kilogram body to ashes in seconds!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Simultaneously, more plasma orbs surged from the dark corners, creating a frenzied thunderstorm!

"What is that?!"

"A ghost!"

"Ball lightning?!"

These phenomena, beyond human comprehension, stunned the gang members. They screamed and shouted but none dared to raise their weapons in retaliation.

As Fat Bob's ashes scattered to the ground, someone finally reacted, but it was too late! The countless plasma orbs not only enveloped everyone present but also detonated the grenades piled on the floor!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The air seemed to tremble. The intense shockwaves shattered all the glass in the Precious Mall, making them crackle.

At that moment, a tall figure clad in a black waterproof coat, with hair wrapped in a red bandana and wearing a gas mask, emerged from the shadows. He walked through the residual flames and the flickering flashlight beams, as if strolling down a rain-freshened street, into the bloody slaughterhouse.

The ground was littered with broken bodies and ashes, with occasional twitching limbs. The silent figure stepped over them, seemingly unaffected by the carnage. Zaire glanced around at the gruesome scene, his breath echoing inside his mask, drowning out any discomfort.

This reminded him of the 'good old' days in the underground tunnels.

Even though Zaire was mentally prepared, he still underestimated the plasma gun's power. In mere seconds, over thirty fully armed men had vanished from the world. The unexpected grenade detonations contributed to the chaos, but that's how real battles are: full of surprises.

Zaire stepped through the sticky blood, surveying the smoke-filled scene to ensure no one was left alive. He hesitated, then bent down to pick up the intact weapons among the remains. After a quick scan with his simulator, only eighteen guns met the criteria and were absorbed as cooling time.

[Increased cooling time: eighteen hours.]

"That was a huge loss..."

Zaire muttered to himself, regretting his reckless action. He had planned to set traps and assassinate quietly, then use the powerful plasma gun only after the bodies were discovered to end the fight. But Fat Bob's mad speech caught him off guard, leaving no time for preparation. He had no choice but to use the plasma gun to try and prevent the gang from causing more deaths in Hell's Kitchen.

The result, though... was exceptionally effective!

At that moment, Zaire, wearing his gas mask, took a deep breath and remembered something. He started searching the area more thoroughly. Sure enough, he found several black packages among the debris. Opening them, he found bundles of cash—Fat Bob's promised payment.

"Well... not a total loss."

Without counting the money, Zaire picked up the black packages and headed for the mall's exit. The explosions and smoke would soon attract police or criminals. As the culprit, Zaire needed to leave the scene quickly.

Just as Zaire reached the mall's entrance, a dark red short staff suddenly shot out from the shadows!

Sensing danger, Zaire dropped the packages. His dark Katarn combat knife instantly rose, intercepting the staff.

Clang!

The metal staff was sliced in half by the sharp blade. Zaire crouched slightly, muscles tensing, ready for combat. At the same time, a tall, slender figure in dark red armor stepped out of the shadows, twirling a staff that hummed ominously.

"Daredevil?"

Zaire's voice was low, coming through the gas mask. "Stay out of this... They were just gang criminals."

"Red Bandana? I thought you were just a myth made up by the police for the media..."

Daredevil, with his dark red mask and small horns glowing faintly, listened intently. "Hell's Kitchen is my territory. You've crossed the line... And you shouldn't kill."

Before he finished speaking, Daredevil lunged forward, his staff extending like a living creature towards Zaire's head.

"Hmph!"

Zaire snorted through his gas mask. He said nothing more, raising his Katarn knife. The blade clashed with the staff, sending it flying.

In that brief moment, Daredevil closed the distance, less than a meter away. As his staff retracted, he stepped forward, knee aiming for Zaire's abdomen.

Zaire's left fist met the knee with a heavy thud. The impact caused both to recoil slightly. Zaire's reaction was faster, instinctively reaching for his plasma gun to finish the fight. But reason held him back, causing a moment of hesitation.

Daredevil seized this opportunity. He raised his foot, kicking Zaire's chest with a force that sent him flying three meters back, crashing heavily.

Seeing his opponent weakened, Daredevil relaxed slightly, twirling his staff as he approached. But he stopped suddenly, listening.

Zaire, hand on his chest, showed no emotion behind his mask. He slowly stood up, twisting his neck slightly. Instead of drawing his plasma gun, he tore off his waterproof coat and tossed it aside. He then reversed his grip on the knife, the blade facing outwards.

"Oh... Matt Murdock."

Zaire said, his voice cold. "I won't rest until you're in a hospital bed... This isn't over!"

"This thing... It's not over! "

..........................................................

This Year has to be the worst year for Minors.

 If you want? You get to read the next chapters before anyone else! Just go to pateron get chapters in advance: patreon.com/THE_INDRA_


Load failed, please RETRY

Weekly Power Status

Batch unlock chapters

Table of Contents

Display Options

Background

Font

Size

Chapter comments

Write a review Reading Status: C22
Fail to post. Please try again
  • Writing Quality
  • Stability of Updates
  • Story Development
  • Character Design
  • World Background

The total score 0.0

Review posted successfully! Read more reviews
Vote with Power Stone
Rank 200+ Power Ranking
Stone 93 Power Stone
Report inappropriate content
error Tip

Report abuse

Paragraph comments

Login

tip Paragraph comment

Paragraph comment feature is now on the Web! Move mouse over any paragraph and click the icon to add your comment.

Also, you can always turn it off/on in Settings.

GOT IT