I became light in American comics.

Chapter 652 Family Dinner

Seaside City, restaurant.

Thank you for your hospitality.

William Hand grumbled as he pushed open the door and walked out of the restaurant. His rough hands carried a food bag, and his hands were covered in mud and filth.

The glass door slammed shut, swaying back and forth with its momentum. Inside, the restaurant was a complete mess. Chairs were overturned, tableware was scattered and broken, and the floor was covered with grease, blood, and other grime. Waiters and customers lay sprawled on the floor, their flesh taut against their bones, like dehydrated corpses.

The most horrifying one seemed to have crawled with all his might to the vicinity of the door before he died, his bloodstained fingernails leaving deep marks on the floor. But he ultimately failed to crawl out and was left forever in this purgatory.

William Hand hummed a little tune as he walked briskly through the street back to the suburban cemetery. Silence reigned, save for the rustling of the wild grass in the cold wind. The tombstones stood in a haphazard arrangement, their inscriptions of names and dates now blurred and indistinct. Tall, gnarled trees lined the sides, their branches swaying in the wind, sounding like whispers in the darkness.

William arrived at the rows of tombstones. He gently placed the food bag on the grave, bent down, and lightly kissed the damp, muddy ground.

"Time to get up," he said.

The ground trembled, then seemed to be torn apart by an unseen force. Cracks spread out, followed by a surge of black liquid, like groundwater, but thick and viscous like some kind of gel.

A low growl escaped, and withered flesh clung to bones as a hand emerged from the ground. A twisted body burst from the grave, its pale face covered in black filth, its eyes bulging, its clothes rotting and stained with dirt, resembling the dead of death itself.

"Hello, Dad."

"Brothers."

"And Mom."

William Hand, the Black Hand, looked at the family, their heads tilted, withered and grotesque, and a smug smile spread across his face.

"Look at you all, you've finally become beautiful."

Let's come together.

He picked up the food bag from the grave and said with a smile.

"I brought dinner."

A few minutes later, they arrived at the Hand family’s old house.

That's where William grew up, and it holds his memories from his childhood to adolescence.

Contrary to what many people who later came to know the supervillain Blackhand imagined, most people would think that he had an unhappy childhood and must have had a very bad family to become the psychopath he became.

but it is not the truth.

The truth is, Blackhand doesn't think there's anything wrong with his family. He had a happy childhood by his own standards. Everyone thinks he's weird, that he can't fit into any group, not even his own family, but that doesn't stop him from loving them.

He loved his parents and his brothers, and he knew they loved him in return. This is perhaps the strangest and most incomprehensible part for others.

So when he became the Black Hand, one day he returned here and killed them all.

Because in his eyes, death is eternal.

Death is the most beautiful thing in the world, the greatest gift that can be given to man in this filthy world. He shared death with his family, just as he did with himself.

Yes, he had already blown his own head off a long time ago. He used his own body to pursue ultimate death.

He's been dead for a long time, and he still is.

The abandoned Hand House exudes an eerie atmosphere, like a haunted house forgotten by time. The walls are covered with mottled paint and cracks from the relentless ravages of time, and the windows are long gone, with only a few broken window frames swaying in the wind and making creaking noises.

The dead family sat around the dining table, eating eerily amidst the spiderwebs.

"What?"

William Hand picked up a piece of fried chicken with his fork and glanced at his family members, whose faces were cracked with anger.

"No, Dad."

He shook his head and spoke to the mummified corpse across the table, who wore glasses on his nose.

"The family is as lifeless as you are now; the funeral home has closed down. There are no more dead people to bury."

But with me here, it won't be like this.

With me here, the dead rule everything. That's what the ideal future looks like.

He silently ate a few more bites, while the four mummified corpses sat motionless around him, staring at him with their bulging eyes.

"What? David? No, just this once, forget about it." He suddenly glared at his brother beside him, "or I'll bury you back in the ground, I swear I will."

He stared at each of the mummified corpses for a few seconds.

"No," William said firmly. "Now that I'm at home, I'm going to do whatever I want."

This world has always been wrong. I can hear the sound of death, so I can realize this. You guys never had this ability and always thought I was a freak.

David, you always bully me about this, and Father, you always side with David. You all think I have mental problems. Oh, and that incompetent psychiatrist, remember to remind me to wake him up from the ground too someday. Maybe now I can discuss with him what my personal fantasies are.

But not now, not today.

He sat up straight, his hands clasped together under his chin.

"You are very lucky. I love you, you are all my family, so I won't hold these things against you. And I'm giving you this blessing in return."

You will be the first to join me, you will be the pioneers of the new world—a world ruled by the dead.

But before that, I need to find a way to kill as many people as possible in one go. Then I'll revive them from the ground, and once they're awake, they'll continue doing the same thing.

By then, I will no longer be a freak, no longer the strangest one.

He spoke with a cheerful smile, which could even be described as sunny, but it looked rather eerie on his pale face.

"Then the whole world will be one happy family again."

Just then, the chandelier above the restaurant, covered in cobwebs and which should have been off by now, suddenly flickered twice.

A cold wind seemed to blow in from outside the door.

"Oh, it seems we have guests."

Black Hand tilted his head and waved his hand.

"Why don't you go and see what's going on, David?"

His brother, the dried corpse, remained silent for two seconds, then slowly got up, tilted his head, and walked to the door.

He reached out and opened the door.

A woman in a black bodysuit with white stripes resembling skulls.

Silver Sorceress, a magical supervillain, is skilled at using screaming sound waves as weapons, which have even had a significant effect on Superman and Wonder Woman.

"Oh, Enchantress, you're late," said Black Hand.

"This place is so hard to find."

Silver Enchantress walked in and glanced disdainfully at the dried-up corpse, David.

"Do you really have to meet me in this weird place?"

(End of this chapter)