Wesley and the others had no idea what was happening.
After the blinding flash, their vision went blank. They heard only three lightning-fast cracks followed by methodical gunfire.
By the time their sight started to return, everyone on Sloan's side—except for Sloan himself—lay in pools of blood.
Jason calmly tucked his pistol back into his waistband.
"What just happened?" Cross asked, rubbing his aching eyes as he stared at the scene in disbelief.
"The enemy has been eliminated, Mr. Cross."
"H-how did you do that?"
The others who gradually regained their vision gasped in shock at the carnage before them, whispering among themselves.
Only Fox remained calm, as if she had anticipated exactly this outcome.
Jason approached Sloan, who stared blankly at the corpses of his followers.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Jason, God's Knight of Punishment. I'm delighted to eliminate you personally."
He seized Sloan by the neck like a chicken destined for slaughter.
Approaching an automatic loom, they watched the shuttle racing at tremendous speed beneath the dense bundles of thread.
Everyone immediately understood Jason's intentions.
But mere minutes ago, Sloan had been their leader—the ultimate authority!
Jason turned his head and announced, "The following scene will be extremely bloody. Good children, avert your eyes!"
His powerful arms forced Sloan's head downward. "THUNK!"
The shuttle instantly pierced the man's temple, dyeing the white thread a festive crimson.
Those witnessing this execution wore complicated expressions; some even had tears in their eyes.
Despite everything, these had been teammates who once fought side by side.
Jason clapped his hands to recapture their attention.
"Everyone, instead of mourning him, consider your own futures. They died, but the Fraternity must not become history alongside them. Go forth and wash away the stains of corruption. Kill, and earn your redemption!"
...
Seated in what was formerly Sloan's office, Jason reviewed his rewards.
Sloan was undoubtedly a silver-level target. The progress of the silver gift package now stood at: 1/5.
The progress of the Iron and Bronze gift packages had reached: 3/37 and 17/31 respectively.
He'd received a new Iron-tier gift package, which yielded 3 attribute points when opened. He decided to save these for later.
The system had also triggered an achievement.
[Congratulations on receiving the "Spread the Creed" achievement reward: Special Achievement Gift Package.]
Jason frowned. Spread the creed?
This system creed was obviously designed for the guilty to atone through bloodshed. If it spread on a large scale, would this world eventually require killing for enlightenment?
To join my cult, you need a murder weapon, several severed heads, a few hearts and livers, and a collection of dried bones. How barbaric!
He opened the gift package.
[Congratulations on receiving the reward: Master Level Skill Upgrade Card]
Jason examined his mastery-level skills, immediately excluding Trap Proficiency as not worth upgrading.
Then there was basketball. No point becoming even more invincible—with all his attribute way beyond human bloodline, he would dominate all of them.
As for his proficiency in swimming and diving... What, am I no longer content competing with Michael Jordan but now want to challenge Phelps too?
The only truly valuable option seemed to be Assault Rifle Proficiency.
To be precise, this ability applied not just to assault rifles, but to all similar automatic weapons. Long guns such as light and heavy machine guns were also included.
After careful consideration, he decided not to use the upgrade card immediately.
There was no pressing need at present, and perhaps a more useful skill would be unlocked later. Best to wait and see.
That night, the Fraternity underwent an unprecedented transformation.
Jason's philosophy of "Kill to gain redemption" might have only gained limited traction initially, but as time passed and Fox implemented these principles, it would eventually become the Fraternity's true creed.
Since darkness had fallen, Jason naturally remained at the factory overnight.
The next morning, he awoke from the double bed feeling thoroughly refreshed. It had been an exceptionally good sleep.
While enjoying breakfast and reading the newspaper, a particularly interesting headline caught his eye.
Stark had finally flown to fateful Afghanistan!
Jason had been planning this financial opportunity for some time.
Between the $16 million previously acquired, plus earnings from confronting gangs and occasionally collecting "unwanted waste paper," his total assets had reached $20 million.
Through David's careful maneuvering, the money had been divided among more than a dozen small accounts, leveraged to the maximum extent possible, and positioned to short-sell Stark Industries stock.
To avoid drawing attention, David had taken several days to complete these transactions.
Now, they merely needed to wait for news of Stark's unfortunate attack and disappearance before reaping substantial profits.
But this would only be the beginning of their windfall.
Stark's disappearance would send Stark Industries' stock price plummeting.
His return would trigger a sharp rise.
When Stark announced the closure of the weapons R&D and production divisions, the stock would tank again.
When he declared "I am Iron Man," the price would soar once more.
After Stark transformed the company into a green energy powerhouse, the stock would continue its upward trajectory.
With perfect timing, Jason would become a billionaire overnight.
...
That evening, Jason returned to the same location where he had previously met Black Widow.
Coulson had requested this meeting, seeking an explanation for Jason's earlier phone call.
Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Coulson were all present.
Natasha looked haggard, evidently having endured a difficult couple of days.
Hawkeye wore a similarly bleak expression. After Fury learned that Dreykov remained alive, he had immediately launched an internal investigation.
Their authority as senior agents had been severely restricted.
Damn it, we're clearly innocent! Hawkeye thought bitterly.
Jason had barely arrived when a mellow, distinctive voice with a rich baritone spoke from behind him: "I'm not sure which name you prefer—Iron Man... or Hell's Butcher?"
Turning around, Jason beheld an imposing Black man in a black trenchcoat approaching with deliberate steps.
When Jason saw him, his heart skipped a beat.
Is this the legendary Nick Fury?
You're a fucking... diamond-tier target?
Based on his understanding of the system, the tier above gold tier wasn't diamond but platinum. This meant the eyepatch-wearing commander was actually two tier higher than Black Widow!
If I killed him, could I achieve instant success? Perhaps gain some Asgardian bloodline or a complete set of Spider-Man abilities? Wouldn't that be the ultimate shortcut to power?
The more he contemplated this possibility, the more exhilarated he became, intensity building in his eyes.
My trigger finger is absolutely itching!
Meanwhile, noting the shock in Jason's expression, Nick Fury felt satisfied with his carefully choreographed entrance.
That's exactly the effect I wanted. Hell's Butcher, you might as well surrender and serve under my command!
However, as he stepped directly before Jason, Fury noticed the other man examining him with unmistakable excitement.
Something felt off.
Worse still, Jason grasped his hand firmly, refusing to release it—as though reluctant to let some precious treasure slip away.
This isn't right, Fury realized. Something is very wrong.
Indeed, within those eager eyes, Fury momentarily detected murderous intent so powerful it seemed almost tangible.
In that instant, a cold realization washed over him.
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