Capítulo 6: Chapter 6: The Stone Mask
The battle concluded swiftly.
Despite Frank's formidable tactical acumen, his razor-sharp curve shots, and the distinctive prowess of his dual gunblades, they barely posed any real challenge to Lod.
However, once he began to fight seriously, the outcome was inevitable. Frank had no choice but to concede defeat.
With a single devastating strike, Lod's released Zanpakutō, Shinso, unleashed its power at supersonic speed. The blade pierced Frank's abdomen with such precision that his nerves registered the pain only moments later.
Meanwhile, Lod emerged nearly unscathed, with only minor tears in his clothing and no significant injuries.
While Frank became surprised by the immense gap in their abilities, he couldn't deny reality.
And to Lod, this was only natural.
A battle between Shinigami is ultimately a battle of Reiatsu.
No matter how refined one's skills in Zanjutsu, Kido, or Hakuda may be, the determining factor always comes down to the strength of their Reiatsu.
This principle was exemplified by Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni, the Commander-General of the Gotei 13 for over a millennium. His overwhelming Reiatsu was what cemented his status as the strongest Shinigami. Even without his Zanpakutō, Ryūjin Jakka, he could dominate 90 percent of Shinigami effortlessly.
So Frank's loss was hardly unexpected.
After all, he had only just begun his journey as a Shinigami. While his Zanpakutō had achieved Shikai, his Reiatsu was still at the eighth-grade level, which was average for a regular Shinigami.
Facing an opponent like Lod, a seated officer whose Zanpakutō was already in Shikai, defeat was simply unavoidable.
"This wound... I'll remember it," Frank muttered, his voice tinged with resentment. "Next time, I'll make sure to carve a hole in your stomach too!"
Anyone would be furious after having their abdomen slashed open, and Frank was no exception.
"Sure, if you can manage it," Lod replied with a nonchalant shrug.
But deep down, he doubted Frank would ever get the chance. With his unique opportunity for rapid growth, the gap between them was only bound to widen.
Perhaps one day...
He would ascend to a level where he could crush a Captain-class Shinigami with ease, just as Aizen had done.
'It won't be long,' Lod thought to himself. With his Soul King Development System, surpassing Aizen was merely a matter of time.
---
Back to the present.
Lod regarded Frank with a hint of admiration for his fighting instincts. It wasn't merely about his combat skills; it was his ability to adapt quickly to unfamiliar situations that stood out.
While all Shinigami possess Zanpakutō, few can achieve perfect synchronization with their abilities and fully unlock their potential. Most require centuries of arduous training to master them.
However, Frank was different.
As the Punisher, his combat awareness, strategic thinking, and indomitable willpower allowed him to quickly turn any advantage into a reality.
His left gunblade consumed varying amounts of Reiryoku to produce bullets with diverse effects. Thus far, it could create six types: explosive, high-speed, incendiary, toxic, scattershot, and freezing bullets. There was undoubtedly potential for more in the future.
Meanwhile, his right gunblade could condense Reishi into bullets that inflicted a variety of effects on targets, some of which could even benefit allies.
One of its notable bullets is Fight to the Death, It functioned like adrenaline but offered a significantly greater boost which makes it an invaluable in desperate situations. Another had healing properties similar to Kaido from One Piece and it can also stack its effects on a target.
Frank's Shikai, Pale Justice, was a perfect embodiment of his essence as the Punisher.
---
"So, Frank," Lod asked, "now that you have power, what's your next move?"
Frank froze for a moment and his eyes burned with renewed anger. "Do you even need to ask?"
He hadn't forgotten the one who had made him suffer, the one who had nearly killed him. The culprit was Bullseye, the assassin working for Kingpin. His sins were so profound that even Hell would refuse to cleanse them.
"Revenge, of course!" Frank said with a twisted grin and his eyes filled with murderous intent. "Blood for blood, violence for violence. That's the Punisher's way!"
"Good luck," Lod said, stepping back and motioning for Frank to proceed.
"I'll need it," Frank replied with a grim nod. "When I return, my life will be yours."
Frank rarely made promises, but to the man who had given him power and a second chance, loyalty was the least he could offer.
"No need," Lod said, shaking his head. "I saved you because I chose to, not because I expect anything in return. Your life belongs to you, not anyone else. Offering it out of gratitude is the most foolish thing you could do."
Forcing loyalty through favors was the lowest form of manipulation, and Lod wanted no part of it. He knew that someone like Frank wouldn't stay loyal unless it was born from genuine conviction.
Instead, Lod decided to play the long game. Frank owed him, and debts like these don't simply vanish.
---
Kingpin Tower
On the top floor of this skyscraper lived Kingpin, who was America's most powerful crime lord.
"Kingpin... Bullseye..."
Under the dim streetlights, Frank, dressed in a black trench coat, exuded a menacing aura as his eyes burned with red-hot fury. "Your time has come."
He walked toward the building at a steady pace, and the place that once required elaborate plans to infiltrate was now wide open to him.
In his spiritual form as a Soul Reaper, those without spiritual awareness could not perceive him.
Inside, Fisk Tower was brightly lit and lavishly decorated, and Frank strolled through the central hall unnoticed by the patrolling guards.
"It begins here," he muttered.
Frank's Zanpakutō released its initial release, Pale Justice.
Without warning, he began his massacre.
"Evil deserves no mercy!"
A gunshot roared, and a bullet tore through a guard's skull, killing him instantly.
Panic erupted among the remaining guards.
"What happened?"
"Pierce is down!"
"We're under attack!"
Another shot rang out, silencing another guard as blood and brain matter splattered onto the horrified onlookers.
"There's someone invisible!"
"Shoot him! Where is he?"
"Don't kill me! I was wrong!"
Frank's expression remained cold as his gunblade roared, and he fired relentlessly, reaping lives without hesitation.
"Evil must perish," he declared while ignoring the guards' desperate cries.
The sound of death echoed through the hall.
Amid the carnage, Frank ascended to the top floor of Fisk Tower.
Tonight, justice would be served.
Fisk Tower Penthouse
In the lavishly decorated office, a bald, overweight man sat on a plush sofa while his expression exuded a menacing ruthlessness.
This man was Wilson Fisk, known across New York and all of America as the kingpin of the underworld, a man born with an inherently sinister mind.
In the past, Fisk orchestrated a massacre-like purge of rival gangs while colluding with influential politicians to establish the largest and most ruthless criminal empire in the country.
But today...
Fisk wasn't in a good mood, and he was unusually furious. Moments ago, an alarm had blared from the lower floors, a sign that an unidentified intruder had broken in and begun slaughtering his men.
That wasn't the real issue, though.
As the kingpin, Fisk was long accustomed to such incidents. Be it superheroes or rival criminals, there was no shortage of people who wanted him dead. If a superhero didn't show up for a while, he'd find it suspicious.
But this time was different, and it was eerily so.
It wasn't strange for someone to want him dead, but what baffled him was...where was the intruder?
From the first death to the last, Fisk had never once seen the attacker. Surveillance footage being slowed and replayed countless times, confirmed that there was no visible enemy.
Initially, Fisk thought the attacker might be a mutant or superhero with some sort of cloaking ability, but thermal imaging scans showed no heat signatures at all.
"Damn it!"
Fisk became enraged and smashed the monitors to pieces, and his eyes turned calculating. "Who the hell is trying to kill me?"
Fisk had no intention of facing an untraceable "monster" head-on. As the saying goes, a valuable person doesn't put themselves in harm's way.
Being the kingpin meant his life was far more precious than that of his minions, and without hesitation, he decided to abandon them and escape alone.
But before fleeing, he needed someone to hold off the "monster."
"A monster should fight another monster," Fisk muttered coldly as a sinister smile curled on his thick face. "Bullseye, you're up. Think you can handle it?"
"No problem."
From the office shadows, a man wearing a bullseye-patterned mask emerged, and his tone carried an edge of excitement. "Perfect timing—I've been itching to see how strong I've become."
"Good," Fisk said as he rose from the sofa and walked to the far wall, which was adorned with various ornaments. Pressing a hidden button, he revealed a heavy metal door behind the sliding wall.
As the kingpin of crime, having a few secret escape routes was only logical.
Fisk stepped through the door and input a code, and as the metal door sealed shut behind him, he walked quickly down the escape passage while cursing silently. "If I find out who you are, I'll wipe out your entire family!"
---
The final thug dropped, with a bullet piercing the center of his forehead. With an expression of terror and regret, he drew his last breath.
"One hundred and seven," Frank muttered as he exhaled slowly and stepped over the corpses to move to the next floor.
To him, everyone in Fisk Tower was guilty. They had all raised their weapons against the defenseless, drenched their hands in blood, and shattered countless families.
And now...
It was time to pay.
Reaching the top floor, Frank took steady steps toward his ultimate targets—Fisk and Bullseye.
---
With a sharp clang, Frank's Zanpakutō sliced through the heavy metal door leading to Fisk's office.
The moment he stepped in, a gunshot echoed.
Frank remained unbothered as his Zanpakutō slashed upward to split the bullet in two. The fragments clattered to the floor.
"Only one of you?" Frank asked as his gaze swept the room. He saw Bullseye standing alone while Fisk was nowhere in sight.
"You must be a mutant," Bullseye said as he aimed his gun.
To him, the blurry figure in his sights was human, but its abilities were anything but ordinary. The only explanation was mutation.
Frank didn't respond. Injecting Reiryoku into his Zanpakutō, he fired a bullet enhanced with triple speed.
Bang!
The bullet pierced Bullseye's skull instantly, spraying blood across the expensive flooring.
"One hundred and eight," Frank said as he holstered his weapon and headed deeper into the office.
But before he could take a few steps, he felt a sudden gust behind him. Instinctively, he ducked and rolled, narrowly dodging an attack that sliced a few strands of his hair.
"You dodged?" Bullseye's voice was laced with mockery which made Frank turn around in shock.
"You...should be dead!" Frank's eyes widened as he saw Bullseye was alive and standing, the bullet wound on his head gone as if it had never existed.
"Surprised?" Bullseye laughed maniacally. "You're wondering why I'm still alive, aren't you?"
Frank's mind raced. He had clearly seen the bullet penetrate Bullseye's skull. How was he still standing?
Without hesitation, Frank fired again, this time with bullets imbued with explosive, incendiary, freezing, and poisonous properties.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Blood and flesh sprayed, but Bullseye kept advancing while grinning wildly.
"You can't kill me!" Bullseye's laughter echoed. "I've become something greater—a superior being with immortality!"
"Immortal, huh?" He didn't believe in immortality. To him, it only meant the method of destruction hadn't been found yet.
If one shot couldn't kill Bullseye, he'd reduce him to pieces and see if he could still cheat death.
Frank's face remained emotionless, though deep inside, he almost wanted to laugh.
If it had been before, he might have been surprised, but after enduring those three hellish days, nothing fazed him anymore.
If even a Soul Reaper could exist in reality, then encountering an undying monster wasn't that much of a stretch.
Judging by the earlier fight, a single bullet wasn't enough to blow Bullseye into pieces. This time, Frank didn't hold back as he used curving shots to resolve the situation in one go.
Frank took a deep breath and imbued 18 bullets with explosive properties, pushing himself to his limits.
"Justice needs to be executed!"
Then he pulled the trigger.
Boom!
The grey-white gunblade spat out flames of death, accompanied by the roar of gunfire and trembling of the air, as 18 bullets roared from the barrel.
Bullseye smirked dismissively. "You still don't get it, do you? Human bullets mean nothing to me!"
The bullets were too slow. To Bullseye, who had become a perfect being, they moved as though in slow motion. He stomped the ground, shattering the expensive tiles beneath him as his speed surpassed the bullets.
Frank suddenly found himself face-to-face with Bullseye, who cruelly plunged sharp fingers into Frank's chest.
Rip!
Blood spurted out as Frank roared, kicking Bullseye away and retreating several steps.
Bullseye licked the blood on his hand with satisfaction. "Ah… Your blood tastes incredible, far better than ordinary humans."
Frank scoffed. "Then why don't you savor the taste of your own blood instead?"
Bullseye stared in disbelief as he saw the bullets curve mid-air and turn back toward him.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The 18 bullets formed a deadly net, wrapping around Bullseye and hitting their target precisely.
The plan hadn't gone perfectly, but the outcome was just as he wanted.
Bullseye recognizing the familiar attack style became stunned. "Punisher? No way… You're supposed to be dead!"
Frank's voice was icy, as though it came from the depths of hell. "Hell was too empty, so I came back to drag you down with me."
Bullseye couldn't believe it. He'd personally torn off Frank's leg and shot him multiple times. No human could survive such injuries.
"You claim to be Immortal?" Frank growled. "Let's see if you can survive being blown into pieces."
Bullseye's eyes widened. He knew his immortality relied on rapid regeneration. If he were reduced to fragments, survival was impossible.
The explosive bullets detonated within Bullseye's body, which magnified their destructive force. Bullseye screamed as his body was blown apart with his flesh scattering across the office.
Frank scoffed, "Perfect being? Sorry, I forgot to tell you—I'm a Soul Reaper."
However, to his shock, the scattered pieces of flesh began to regenerate. Tendrils of tissue reached out and pulled themselves back together.
'What the hell is this monster? I need information,' Frank muttered as he kept shooting at the regenerating flesh. Yet, bullets were useless, as they only broke the pieces into smaller bits, which still reassembled.
Bullseye rose again, laughing maniacally. "Thank you, Frank. You've shown me how far I've evolved. Even if I'm blown to bits, I can still revive!"
Frank frowned and asked, "Bullseye, what have you become?"
Bullseye grinned smugly and said, "This is heaven's gift—a mask from ten thousand years ago. It made me the perfect being!"
'The mask clearly had something to do with Bullseye's transformation into this monster. It seemed to have lowered his thinking process as well, and he is acting erratically while showing more emotions. He would have never talked this much before. I needed more information to be sure,' Frank thought.
"Heh, you think I would believe you? your story's full of crap!" Frank feigned rage while pretending to be cornered.
Bullseye took the bait and started gloating. "That's right! This mask gave me an immortal body, superior reflexes, and eternal youth. The only drawback? Why would I tell you~"
Frank suddenly chuckled and shook his head. "You're definitely a vampire. You drank blood and said it was tasty. So... that's it? If this were before, I might have been worried. But now… the game's changed."
Frank unsheathed his Zanpakutō. Unlike ordinary weapons, it could directly harm the soul, which rendered vampires helpless.
"Are you ready?" Frank suddenly spoke, and his tone sounded as if he was speaking to someone else.
It was strange since the building only had two people inside. Yet Frank spoke as if addressing an unseen third person.
Bullseye squinted his eyes and tilted his head, trying to detect another presence.
No scent.
Though the air was thick with blood and gunpowder, his vampiric senses could distinguish even the faintest trace.
No sound either.
Using echolocation, he could map everything within a hundred meters. There was no one else.
Bullseye grinned, "You're bluffing, Punisher. There's no third person here. You're trying to psych me out."
"You're wrong." Frank raised his gaze slightly and said calmly, "There's someone else here. You just can't see him."
That third presence was Pale Justice, visible only to Frank.
"Ready now." The white coat Frank only spoke indifferently. "Let me show you my true power."
Then a burst of Reiatsu erupted around him.
"Sacred Word: Redemption!"
"Until Death!"
"Glorious Martyrdom!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three bullets were fired, but their target wasn't Bullseye; Frank had aimed at himself.
Bullseye froze, his smirk fading into confusion.
"Are you insane?" he laughed loudly. "You can't handle me, so you've decided to off yourself instead?"
Frank only looked at Bullseye with piercing eyes and said nothing, with veins bulging on his face as he had to endure agonizing pain. His skin turned crimson and released steam as his body overheated.
The wild Reiatsu spiraled outwards, slicing the expensive tiles and furniture into pieces as if they were caught in a storm of blades.
"Die, Bullseye!"
With a deafening roar, Frank stomped the ground, shattering the tiles beneath him, and launched himself like a cannonball.
Bullseye's pupils shrank, "Too fast!"
Even with his vampiric reflexes, he couldn't track Frank's movements.
A flash of cold steel and searing pain followed. Bullseye looked down and saw his arm severed.
"Ahhh!"
Unlike any injury he had experienced, this one burned deeper than the flesh. It felt as though his very soul had been ripped apart.
'Missed his neck. Next time, I won't.' Frank muttered as he breathed heavily.
Though powerful, Frank's body wasn't in good shape. His skin had begun to crack, blood and sweat oozing out and evaporating instantly from the heat.
The strain of channeling three abilities at once was evident. If the fight dragged on, Frank would collapse before his opponent.
Bullseye stared in horror at his severed arm, realizing it wasn't healing.
His vampiric immortality, his greatest strength, had been neutralized.
"This... This is impossible!" he screamed in fury and disbelief. "I'm a perfect being! How could a mere human defeat me?"
"Goodbye, Bullseye."
Frank exhaled deeply and lunged again, his body moving like a hunting predator.
"Justice... executed!"
A sonic boom echoed as Frank disappeared from sight.
The sound of metal slicing through flesh resonated.
"No... please!" Bullseye shrieked. "Don't kill me! I know Kingpin's plans! He's got a massive conspiracy—he's planning to—"
But his words were cut short. His severed head flew into the air.
As his vision dimmed, he stared at his headless body and could only think, 'So, this is death... How absurd.'
With his last strength, Bullseye shouted, "Punisher! I'll see you in hell! You and New York City will burn with me!"
Frank's brows furrowed as unease crept into his thoughts.
"You think I'm the only one?" Bullseye spat with his dying breath. "You're too late, Frank. Kingpin has the stone mask!"
Frank remembered the strange mask Bullseye mentioned earlier—the one that turned him into a monster. If Kingpin still had it, he could create an army of unkillable beings.
Frank's fists clenched, and cold sweat trickled down his face.
"Kingpin," he muttered. "I'll find you... and I'll end you."
---
In a secluded mansion on the outskirts, Kingpin watched the scene unfold on his monitors.
"Damn Punisher!" he roared, smashing a table into splinters. His crimson eyes glowed in fury. "You destroyed everything I worked for!"
Knowing Bullseye was dead and the Punisher still lived, Kingpin's rage boiled over.
"You leave me no choice..."
He stormed into a hidden chamber fortified with impenetrable walls that blocked all signals.
Inside was a heavily secured vault. After bypassing layers of locks, Kingpin retrieved the object stored within—a grotesque stone mask.
He gazed at the mask and noticed its jagged surface, which resembled the face of a slightly masculine figure. The eyeholes were sharp and slanted, and it had a small mouth that seemed to be in a faint smile.
The lips were full, and small fangs rested on the bottom lip. From the bottom of the forehead, a ridge extended vertically to the top of the mask, where it joined another ridge that spiraled to the left side of the forehead.
This was the Stone Mask.
"This is my key to ruling the world."
---
[Low-tier Soul x10
Low-tier Soul x10
Low-tier Soul x10
Low-tier Soul x10
Low-tier Soul x10
Mid-tier Soul x1]
The soul of an ordinary human was worth ten Low-tier souls, and defeating an average Hollow earned one hundred Low-tier souls. More powerful beings like Gillian-class Hollows, Shinigami, or superhumans—whether heroes or villains—had souls of at least a mid-tier quality.
'Poor Kingpin.' Lod figured there were probably no survivors in that building, and even for him, losing so many subordinates at once had to be a serious blow.
Counting money was satisfying, but counting souls was just as good. Lod stared at the system interface, watching as the influx of souls kept updating.
The sound of wealth never got old.
By staying in the shop and sending Frank to handle the dirty work, Lod could rake in a massive haul of souls without breaking a sweat. It was simple and effortless.
The only letdown was that out of so many people, only one soul turned out to be mid-tier.
'Trash.' Lod scoffed as he tallied up the earnings. 'One... ten... hundred... thousand... A total of 1,070 lower-tier souls and one mid-tier soul!'
This was a huge profit, and he couldn't help grinning. It had taken him ages to gather 1,000 lower-tier souls before, but Frank had brought back the same amount plus a mid-tier soul in just one night.
As expected of the Punisher.
Lod leaned back on the bench, satisfied. However, he knew opportunities like this didn't come often. If he repeated the act too much, it would definitely lead to trouble.
'The first step is done,' Lod said to himself, mentally sketching out the next phase.
Frank had proven to be the perfect addition to his plan. Since the system credited Frank's actions to Lod, it treated him like one of Lod's possessions, just like Nemu. This only reinforced Lod's resolve to build his own faction.
He didn't just want Shinigami or the Soul Society. He needed Hollows and control over Hueco Mundo. Lod had to be the mastermind behind the scenes.
But having Shinigami alone wasn't enough. Frank needed a rival. A powerful Hollow would do, not the weak, ordinary ones.
While Lod was still thinking about this, the door to the Seireitei creaked open, and Frank walked in, carrying a strong, cloying scent.
"I'm back," Frank said flatly.
Before Frank stepped fully inside, Lod noticed the overpowering perfume and raised an eyebrow. "How much cologne did you use? Weren't you out killing people? Why do you smell like this?"
Frank rubbed his forehead and explained, "The stench was too strong. I didn't want to disturb Nemu, so I bought a few bottles of cologne to cover it."
Lod was speechless. Who would've thought the rugged Punisher had such a meticulous side?
Frank slumped into a chair, looking exhausted. "Got any booze? I need a drink."
Lod pulled a bottle of whiskey from under the counter and tossed it to him. "So, how did the revenge mission go?"
Frank caught the bottle, twisted off the cap, and started drinking straight from it. After downing half the bottle, he sighed and said, "Not too smooth. Something unexpected happened."
"Unexpected?" Lod asked. "Did someone escape?"
Frank nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "Kingpin got away. I only managed to kill Bullseye."
Lod frowned. "With your abilities, neither of them should've been able to escape. Did you hold back?"
Frank shook his head. "No. Bullseye was stronger than I expected, and he stalled me long enough for Kingpin to get away."
Lod set down his glass and asked, "What exactly happened? Explain it."
Frank sighed and said, "Bullseye turned into a vampire."
"A vampire?" Lod wasn't entirely surprised since vampires existed in this world, but it still raised questions. "And then?"
"It took a lot of effort to kill him, but I got some intel out of him before he died," Frank said bitterly. "Kingpin plans to mass-produce vampires and take over the world."
Lod's face twitched. "Are you saying both Kingpin and Bullseye are vampires? How did that happen?"
Frank slammed his fist on the table and said, "Bullseye mentioned a stone mask. Kingpin used it to turn them into vampires."
Lod froze and nearly spit out his drink. "A stone mask? Are you sure?"
Frank wiped his face calmly and said, "Absolutely. Bullseye said Kingpin found a mask that turned them into vampires."
Lod rubbed his temples. "If it's what I think it is, we're in serious trouble."
'If Kingpin had the Stone Mask... This world might be doomed.'
(End of Chapter)
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