The Savior of American Comics? I'm the Subspace Evil God!

Chapters 388, 692, and 693: The Plan of [Slaughter]
"But you can rest assured, sir. Apart from me, no one knows the true identities of those socialites. I assure you, there will never be a next time. Please give me one last chance!"

Dihar's voice trembled, like a lone bird shivering in the cold night. He dared not struggle at all as he was being lifted up, for fear that such a slight movement would anger the terrifying 'ruler' before him.

Upon hearing Deehar's explanation, Eddie Block's gaze turned icy, like two sharp daggers, fixed on her as if he were scrutinizing a lamb to the slaughter, ready to bite off her head and end her wretched life with the slightest movement.

Time seemed to freeze for a brief moment.

However, after a moment, the murderous intent in Eddie Brock's eyes gradually subsided, receding like the tide.

Given that we are indeed in dire need of manpower right now, every bit of strength is crucial.

The woman before them, despite having committed an unforgivable mistake, had indeed played a significant role in her past actions due to her skill in winning people over.

Furthermore, she is an extremely fanatical believer, whose faith in dark forces runs deep in her bones. If you were to take such a talent, it would undoubtedly be a significant loss to his plans.

So after much deliberation, Eddie Brock decided to give her one last chance.

"thump--"

As Eddie Brock abruptly released his grip, Deehar, who had been lifted into the air with his feet dangling, instantly fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

Her body slammed heavily against the cold ground, making a dull thud.

Dihar gasped for breath, his chest heaving violently, like a survivor who had trekked through the desert for a long time, was on the verge of death, and finally found water, greedily breathing in the long-lost, putrid air.

Her throat made a hoarse "hmph" sound from the pressure she had just suffered, and each breath was accompanied by a sharp pain, but she did not complain at all. Instead, like a tamed, extremely loyal dog, she quickly adjusted her posture and prostrated herself at Eddie Block's feet with a look of fanaticism and gratitude.

Her forehead was pressed tightly to the ground, her body trembling slightly, not daring to slacken in the slightest, as if expressing her most devout loyalty to the 'ruler' before her.

Eddie Brock spoke coldly, "Find out as soon as possible who else participated in this rescue operation besides Spider-Woman... Spider-Woman alone could never defeat so many symbiote warriors at the same time."

As he spoke, he leaned down slightly, his gaze falling on Dihar, who was prostrate at his feet, and said, word by word:

"Remember, if you can't make amends this time, then we'll settle all the old and new scores together... I doubt you'd want to know what that's like!"

That simple sentence made Dihar feel an extremely strong sense of pressure, as if an invisible mountain was pressing down on her. So she quickly nodded and said, "Yes, please rest assured, sir, I will definitely not let you down."

Watching Deehar leave quickly, Eddie Block's brows furrowed into a deep frown. For some reason, he had a bad feeling, as if something terrible was about to happen.

This premonition was like an invisible thorn, piercing his heart and making him feel vaguely uneasy.

However, as long as Spider Woman's teammates are not from the Subspace Group, he has nothing to fear.

After all, with his current strength, he could easily take down a few street heroes!
Thinking of this, Eddie Block's lips curled up again, revealing a confident yet slightly arrogant smile.

Given that the police are now targeting the Dark Church, and although they haven't been able to capture Deehar, they've learned part of his next plan from Misty Knight, which puts Eddie Brock under unprecedented pressure.

He knew that if the police launched a thorough investigation, it would inevitably hinder his plans.

Therefore, after careful consideration, Eddie Brock decided to keep a low profile for the time being.

He planned to wait until the storm had passed before continuing to expand his influence and extend his reach to higher levels.

He then turned his gaze to the huge 'beacon tree' not far away.

In the dim light, the enormous "beacon tree," shimmering with an eerie glow, resembled a mysterious and malevolent totem.

However, when he saw the symbiotic warriors waiting to 'pay their dues' gathered under the giant tree, his brows furrowed again.

Those ravenous symbiote warriors, like hungry beasts, need to constantly eat human brains to become stronger every day.

This will undoubtedly greatly increase the risk of exposure.

The problem is that this is an unchangeable characteristic of all [Symbiotes], and even the [Void Knight] bestowed by Gnar himself cannot stop it!

Damn, this is such a headache!!

Eddie Block shook his head helplessly, his heart filled with entanglement and struggle.

Right now, he can only pin all his hopes on the two 'bait' he had released in advance, hoping they can attract as much attention as possible and create more time for him to develop!

……

In an alley behind a nightclub in New York.

Cletus Casadi, who once called himself "the massacre" in front of Eddie Brock, now wore a maniacal and unrestrained smile, his eyes flashing with madness and excitement, as he leisurely buttoned up the newly stolen floral shirt.

Not far behind him, a gruesome corpse lay on the ground.

The corpse's head and spine had been cruelly eaten, and the remaining blood spread across the ground, forming a dark red pool that emitted a nauseating stench.

The orange prison uniform that Cletus Cassady was originally wearing, bearing the Ravencraft prison insignia, was carelessly discarded next to the body.

After tidying his clothes, Cletus Cassady swaggered into the street.

Despite the recent spate of attacks and the shadow of fear hanging over the city like a dark cloud, there are still many reckless and fearless young people on the streets.

Under the protection of fully armed bodyguards, they laughed and joked as they headed to a nightclub to have some fun.

The bodyguards, dressed in black suits, had serious expressions and warily scanned their surroundings, gripping their weapons tightly, ready to respond to any unexpected events.

However, these young people seemed to be blinded by their desires, turning a blind eye to the potential dangers.

After all, good advice is hard to persuade a damned ghost! The police officers patrolling the streets occasionally brushed past these people, but they could only shake their heads helplessly and say nothing more.

They knew all too well that in this crazy city, some people were destined to pay the price for their folly.

"Wow, what a cool sports car! I love it!!"

Cletus Casadi's gaze was suddenly drawn to a red convertible sports car that had just pulled up by the roadside. Like a pirate who had discovered a treasure, his eyes lit up.

Without a second thought, he walked straight toward the sports car.

Meanwhile, the middle-aged man driving the sports car was walking smugly into the nightclub with his blonde companion by his arm.

His face was beaming with a smug smile, and his eyes were filled with arrogance toward money and pleasure.

Without turning his head, he tossed the car keys to the young waiter waiting nearby, a gesture that was both elegant and casual, as if he were showing off his wealth and status to this young man from the lower class.

The car key traced a beautiful parabola in mid-air, but just before it landed in the young waiter's hand, a scarlet tentacle shot out like lightning, catching the key precisely in mid-air, and then, like a nimble snake, handed the key to Cletus Casadi.

Cletus Casadi said to his Symbiote Carnage, "Yay, Carnage, let's embark on a spontaneous adventure!"

He then jumped into the driver's seat and started the sports car with the key.

As the engine started, a deep and powerful roar resounded, like the howl of a wild beast.

He slammed his foot on the gas pedal...

"Boom boom——"

With a deafening roar of the engine, the red convertible's tires screeched violently against the ground before it shot off like an arrow.

"Stop the car, sir, please stop the car right now, or I'll call the police... Damn thief!!"

The young valet responsible for parking only then realized what had happened and hurriedly chased after him, shouting loudly towards Cletus Cassady in the sports car as he ran.

If this sports car is stolen from him, not only will he definitely lose his well-paid job, but he will also likely be blamed by the car owner afterwards.

He was filled with remorse, regretting that he hadn't been more vigilant.

However, in the blink of an eye, the sports car had already driven more than a hundred meters away.

Cletus Casadi, who was driving the vehicle, didn't care what punishment the poor young man would receive afterward, and didn't even bother to look back. He sped off toward the mental hospital where his girlfriend, Francis Barrison, was being held.

Several days earlier, during a human hunting expedition, he had already used the ability of [Slaughter] to hack into networks and find the secret mental hospital where his girlfriend was being held in the police's internal network.

At that time, he had already decided to rescue the other party.

"Kassadi, we need to find a way to take down the [Void Knight] so that we can take his place and welcome the arrival of Gnar as heroes!"

[Slaughter]'s little head peeked out from behind Cletus Casadi, looking quite serious.

“That’s right, that’s exactly what I wanted. I’ve had enough of that coward…”

Cletus Casadi wholeheartedly agreed, "But now is not the time. We are still too weak. You need to help me find what I've lost first. Once we have help, we can wreak havoc!"

Clearly, the 'lost things' and 'helper' that Cletus Casadi refers to are his girlfriend, Frances Barrison.

The other party is not an ordinary mental patient, but a mental patient with superpowers who can release ultrasonic waves!
Before her arrest, outsiders called her "Scream"!
Once her power is unleashed, it can generate tremendous destructive force, plunging everything around her into chaos.

However, although Francis Barrison possesses superpowers, she is not a mutant, otherwise she would never have survived to this day.

Her superpowers come from drug D!
Yes, you read that right. In America, if you're 'lucky' enough, you can become a superhuman even by taking drugs!
It's just magical.

After all... God bless America!
"No problem, it's a deal."

[Slaughter] gladly accepted its host's proposal. After all, as long as it could eat and kill to its heart's content, it didn't really care what Cletus Casadi wanted to do.

……

San Quentin Hospital.

A female doctor, over fifty years old, with her full head of silver hair neatly combed and wearing a brand-new white coat, walked straight through a passageway that resembled a prison, lined with special cells on both sides.

The passageway was lined with special cells, which held prisoners that the authorities did not want the outside world to know about.

Ultimately, she stopped in front of a cell that had been specially soundproofed.

The heavy prison door was cold and sturdy, like an insurmountable barrier.

She slightly raised her hand and gently pressed the communication button on the side of the cell door. Through the glass window at the top, she spoke to a Mo woman with dreadlocks who was sitting in a special tempered glass isolation chamber of less than 4 square meters, reading a newspaper:
“Francis, I heard from the medical staff that you haven’t been eating properly these past few days?”

"What, you're not still fantasizing that your missing boyfriend will come here to rescue you, are you?"

“Kid, don’t be silly. Let’s not even talk about whether your boyfriend is still alive... Even if he successfully escaped from Ravencraft Prison, it doesn’t mean he can find this place.”

"For special prisoners like you, the government always declares you dead, so... you'd better not be too happy yet, you can't go anywhere."

The white-haired female doctor's voice was clearly transmitted into the isolation ward through the internal communication device.

Upon hearing this, Francis Barrison, who had been sitting on the bed reading the newspaper, immediately stood up angrily, went to a metal keyboard in the corner, and rapidly typed. The monitor outside the cell immediately displayed the word: Screw You!

(End of this chapter)