Marvel's Death Merchant

At that moment, countless images flashed through John's mind: his first day of school, his first university graduation, his first job, his first promotion to game design supervisor—so many firsts kept flashing through his mind. He gave a helpless, quiet chuckle and gently shook his head.

John took another deep breath, gazing at the sunlight streaming in through the half-open door. His eyes hardened, and his voice calmed. He said, "Although I'm now sitting in this car, the only thing I can rely on, with a meat cleaver on my back, in this unprecedented predicament, I've discovered the preciousness of life. That's not wrong; it's given me the courage to break free." Suddenly, a powerful engine roared, and like a tiger released from its gates, he burst out of the garage, heading towards that hell on earth.

The outside world was a devil's paradise, a bloody playground. The walls of neighbors' homes, the streetlights, the mailboxes across the street—all were covered in dried blood. Zombies were everywhere, gleefully devouring entrails and limbs; not a single intact corpse could be found. John glanced at his neighbor Mr. Brown's house, and a gruesome scene unfolded before him: two zombies were frantically fighting over the body of either Mr. or Mrs. Brown on the balcony. A chill ran down John's spine; fear gripped every cell in his body. Though he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his hands trembled slightly. He forced himself to muster his courage and truthfully recorded everything before him: "The outside world is just as I expected. Zombies are everywhere I look. Hundreds of zombies are rushing towards me from the street, and their numbers are constantly increasing. They are pouring out like a tide from windows, balconies, doors, cars, bushes, and street corners, as if they are going to bury me alive, as if everyone in this city has turned into a zombie. In their eyes, I am now just a piece of moving fat meat, and they wish they could devour me alive. I can't believe I was just safely at home. There is no sign of other survivors yet, and it seems that the chances of finding any other survivors are very slim."

John glanced at the relentlessly pursuing zombies in his rearview mirror; thousands upon thousands chased him like hungry wolves. He then looked at the convenience store at 11 o'clock, where another wave of zombies surged out. John immediately turned the steering wheel to the right, veering to the right. At the cake shop at 2 o'clock, several well-dressed zombies emerged, but he immediately veered to the left, avoiding danger. He weaved left and right through the streets, trying to avoid anything that might stop him, but some zombies would recklessly charge towards him, ready to die. John continued recording his experience on the digital recorder: "For now, this deadly car chase plan is progressing relatively smoothly. If you want to escape by car, here are a few tips. First, cars are very likely to attract the attention of zombies; in fact, most vehicles will. Second, when driving, try to avoid hitting any zombies or anything that might stop the car, because if your car stops, it means you're not far from death. Third, try to conserve your gas, because you never know how far you might have to go."

Weaving and twisting through the horde of zombies, John endured for about 20 minutes. Although it was only 20 minutes, every taut nerve in John's body told him that this was no ordinary 20 minutes; it was a 20 minutes he never wanted to experience again. As the saying goes, after darkness comes light. This was absolutely true. After enduring this 20-minute journey through darkness, John could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. "I can't believe it, I'm almost there! I can see the museum! Can you see it? That's the safe zone. Once you get there, there's a space that isolates you from the outside world. It's a safe and warm fortress. But I've decided to circle the museum first, and only proceed with the next step after confirming that all the nearby zombies have been attracted." John finally saw the end of the road safely. To be continued.

...

Chapter 652 The Anomaly in the Main World (13)

The SUV circled the museum, attracting more and more zombies to join the race. Looking at the increasing number of zombies in the rearview mirror, John couldn't help but wonder if a single SUV and two homemade Molotov cocktails could handle them all. There were so many of them—at least several thousand, no, probably tens of thousands. Although John had calculated the number of zombies based on the area's population density, and two Molotov cocktails should be enough, there were too many uncertainties in practice. John began to summarize the progress of the plan: "Currently, I've attracted all the zombies near the museum. Based on the population density, there should be tens of thousands. They're chasing me at about 30 kilometers per hour. Now I'm going to use a tactic called 'roadblock' to wipe them all out. The core of this tactic is to create a roadblock or trap, then lure all the zombies through it, thereby slowing them down or eliminating them. Wish me luck."

The SUV roared to life and charged straight toward the intersection. The horde of zombies behind it, naturally, didn't dare slacken, giving it their all and frantically chasing after it. When the SUV reached the intersection, its front veered slightly to the left. John then yanked on the handbrake, causing the rear of the SUV to pull to the right, and the entire vehicle began to coast to the left. John immediately swerved the steering wheel to the right to prevent the SUV from spinning out, allowing it to continue its coasting motion. John muttered to himself, "The knowledge I gained while making racing games is coming in handy today." John's sharp turn was so fast and sudden that the zombies had no time to react. Because of their numbers, those in front slowed down due to the sharp turn, while those behind couldn't slow down in time and crashed into him. The zombies in front, after being knocked down, tripped over those behind, creating a chain reaction that sent them sprawling to the ground. John saw all of this in the rearview mirror. He reached for his homemade Molotov cocktail, a victorious smile spreading across his face. "Come on! You sons of bitches! Come on!" he said. He opened the roof and threw the Molotov cocktails back. Two bottles landed one after the other in the middle of the road. John grabbed the remote control of his modified model airplane and activated the igniter in one of the Molotov cocktails. Instantly, two walls of fire blocked the road. The zombies that had fallen to the ground struggled to their feet, desperately trying to get through the fire walls, completely ignoring the raging flames—it was like moths to a flame, courting death. Almost no zombie could get through the second wall of fire; even those that did were already engulfed in flames, collapsing after only a few steps. This was John's tactic.

Watching the zombies burn to a crisp, seeing the monsters annihilated, witnessing his victory, John tasted the true flavor of victory for the first time. John eagerly recorded his first triumph: "The tactics were executed flawlessly; all the zombies were wiped out. With the right tactics, coupled with courage, faith, and hope, we can achieve victory." The SUV pulled up to the museum entrance. John glanced at the only thing he could rely on—a knife, a gift from a friend. The knife's blade was made of a military-grade material—7Cr17Mo—hard yet lightweight. This was why John had brought it with him in the first place. John picked up the cleaver, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and slowly walked towards the museum's entrance. A warm and safe fortress lay before him.

However, the light after darkness was far from arriving so quickly. The darkness before dawn had only just begun. John, blinded by his temporary victory, had lowered his guard. He was only thinking about the supplies inside the museum, forgetting to check the safety of his surroundings first. Just as he was about to open the bright doors of the museum, he suddenly heard rapid footsteps and howls behind him. John had a bad feeling and turned around to see a zombie charging towards him over the extinguished wall of fire. How could one have escaped? Was it because too many fallen zombies were blocking the entrance, and the last one had to wait until the fire went out to reach this point? Regardless, the most important thing now was to get into the museum quickly. John tried to push open the door, but it wouldn't budge. The door was locked! John pounded on the door, shouting, "Open the door! I'm a survivor! Open the door! I'm going to die if you don't open it!" There was no response from inside the museum. Had the army gone out on a rescue mission? Although he still had a meat cleaver, if a zombie bit him, he would be completely transformed into a zombie within 24 hours. He was doomed! This is it!

John steeled himself, dropped his backpack, and ran towards the zombie, prepared to die alongside it. To kill a zombie, he needed to destroy its head or heart. However, a stab to the heart wouldn't kill it instantly; in close combat, it would only give the zombie a chance to bite him. John gripped his knife tightly in his right hand, charged at the zombie, and leaped into the air, now less than 40 centimeters away. He could even smell the stench from its breath. John raised the knife with both hands and thrust it towards the zombie's forehead. The zombie, in turn, raised its pale, deathly hand to attack John's collarbone, its virus-filled maw ready to sever his carotid artery. Victory or defeat, life or death, would be decided in this moment.

With a sharp crack, the knife plunged deep into the zombie's forehead, and a stream of green liquid, carrying a foul stench, gushed from the wound. Its pale hands hung limply at its sides. John had won this gamble between life and death!

John's legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, stared at the grotesque corpse before him, and said, his lips trembling, "The plan... the plan went a little awful. But thankfully, Lady Luck was on my side this time. If another zombie had come, I'm afraid I wouldn't have been so lucky."

John used his left hand to push himself up, struggling to direct his trembling legs to stand. His head felt heavy, his whole body was dizzy, and his vision began to blur. Was it from fear? It didn't seem so. He couldn't explain it; too many inexplicable things had already happened. The most important thing now was to get into the museum as quickly as possible. He slowly walked towards the museum door, his steps faltering, like a frail old woman. John said with heavy steps, "I hope this will come in handy today, something I used to design for stealth games." John carefully examined the keyhole, trying to recall the lessons of a seasoned thief. The door was locked with a pin tumbler lock. The principle was to use multiple cylindrical parts of different heights (called pins) to lock the lock cylinder. When the correct key was inserted, the pins would be pushed to the appropriate height, releasing the lock cylinder and opening the lock. At least two paperclips were needed to open this lock.

Just as John was thinking this, he suddenly had a feeling, an inexplicable and eerie feeling. He unconsciously turned around, his previously wandering gaze fixed on a stationery store across from the museum. "Why am I like this? Why am I looking at a stationery store?" John couldn't help but ask himself. He stared blankly at the store, his fists gradually clenching, his slightly bent legs as if preparing for something. A deathly silence surrounded him, like the calm before a storm. The silent wind, the silent SUV, the silent street—the complete opposite of the recent bustling scene.

A howl, like a dog's, accompanied by rapid footsteps, broke the silence. Then, the stationery store's tightly closed door slammed shut with a series of loud bangs. After a sudden pause of about a second, a deafening roar, like a gust of wind snapping a tree, filled the air as the door was smashed open, scattering debris everywhere.

Chapter 653 The Punisher and Deacon (Part 1)

The area of ​​New York City that was originally owned by Umbrella Corporation.

"Don't move! Hands up! Put down your weapons!" one of the men holding a gun shouted at the Punisher and Daken Hongzhang's team. Because they were still wearing gas masks, their voices were somewhat muffled.

The group of soldiers pointing guns at them seemed quite alarmed by the sudden appearance of the Punisher and Daken and his group.

With guns pointed at them, they knew what to do and raised their hands, including Sloan, who threw his flamethrower to the ground.

The Punisher's only request this time was for a good friend to bring his son over. Since the Umbrella Corporation base had left, Tang Tian was giving back to the world as a way of repaying them.

"Put your hands on your heads and come down one by one," the man continued to command.

They came down one by one. Daken saw their unit's uniforms and thought for a moment before saying, "We're not suspicious people. There are monsters all around us. We're survivors. And yet they're like this. Should we kill them?" Daken said coldly, and bone claws appeared instantly.

The man who had just shouted at them turned to Daken and said, "Stop talking nonsense and come over for a checkup. Even mutants can't be left unchecked."

“Listen to them, kid. They’re a team of survivors,” the Punisher said seriously.

Then, Deakin and his men reluctantly came over. Several soldiers came up to check, and when it was their turn, one of the soldiers said to the man who had spoken earlier, "Sir, someone here is infected!"

The man addressed as "commander" frowned, looked over, and said to the people behind him, "Take all these people to that special protective vehicle, call the commander, and await further instructions."

At this moment, several soldiers came up, grabbed them, and tried to drag them away without saying a word.

“You can’t treat us like this! We’re from S.H.I.E.L.D.!” Sloan, the deputy commander of the Punisher team, shouted at the man called “commander,” while still struggling.

At that moment, a soldier hit Sloan on the head with the butt of his rifle, making him dizzy. The officer walked over and yelled at him, "Sir, these are extraordinary times. All of you must obey my orders, just like S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Are these soldiers here for rescue? Then why are they here? This doesn't look like a densely populated area." Deakin looked around at the area that resembled a villa district and asked, puzzled.

Deakin looked back and saw several soldiers carrying the unconscious member into a modified vehicle that looked like a cage.

But he was quickly pushed over by the soldiers. Just as the guy named Czech was about to resist, he was hit with another round of gunfire. The Punisher didn't move and was pushed onto another vehicle with them.

"Hmph, I'll get my hands on you sooner or later," Daken thought viciously, but then he was also quite moved by the fact that his father had actually sent the Punisher for him.

Suddenly, the Punisher said to Daken, "Daken, you have an excellent sense of sound. Listen to what's going on there."

Upon hearing this, Daken nodded, signaling his squad to be quiet. He then looked out the window of the prison van and, seeing that there was no one around, began to sense the sounds coming from there.

"..." There was no sound of conversation nearby, it seemed their military discipline was quite strict. As they began to enhance their capabilities, voices started to come in. "...I'll go down from where they came up, this is where we were told to go. I'll take a team down, you take the rest of the men to the temporary human resistance headquarters."

"Yes, everyone be careful." After these words were relayed, only the sound of light footsteps remained. Sure enough, Deakin heard it a little too late; there was nothing useful to him.

“They said they wanted to go into that human resistance base…” Daken said to the Punishers.

"Clang." A sound came from the window, and a man who looked like a sergeant stood there and shouted to them, "I'm taking you to the temporary human resistance headquarters now. Once we get there and your identities are confirmed, you'll be safe. But for now, behave yourselves!"

After he finished speaking, there was a heavy slam of the door closing, followed by the sound of a car starting up.

There weren't many vehicles at the beginning. The one driven by the Punisher and Daken was blocking another one, and there were two armed jeeps.

Daken took the opportunity to look outside. This was the suburbs, but not near S.H.I.E.L.D. He had never been here before, and there were no signs of battle nearby, so it seemed that the news had not spread here.

With a loud "bang," the car shook violently, causing everyone to stagger and fall.

"Fuck, what happened? How were you driving?" Deakin cried out, clutching his head.

"Damn it... mutated creatures!" came the soldier driving the vehicle's scream, followed by a burst of gunfire.

The Punisher was also cursing his bad luck. They were trapped here, unable to escape. Suddenly, a whooshing sound rang out, and he turned to see a strange hand hurtling towards their vehicle.

.

The person closest to the door pushed it open and found the lock had been broken. Just as he was about to call for help, Sloan suddenly rushed over, pushed open the door, and dashed out. Another commotion erupted outside, and several shots were fired at him, but Sloan, with his agility, escaped around a corner and disappeared. "Never mind him, let's check on the others first," the Punisher said, stopping Daken who was about to chase after him. Daken thought about it and agreed; their safety was the most important thing.

Deakin took the keys and a pistol from the unconscious soldier in the front cab. This action attracted the attention of a guard standing nearby, who immediately raised his gun and pointed it at Deakin, saying, "What are you doing?"

"Don't open that car, those are infected people!" the soldier shouted anxiously.

The monster was entangled by the soldiers again, but it seemed that they had begun to organize a retreat. A jeep headed towards them, while another used firepower to distract the monster. Several soldiers met up with the others who had been there earlier and decided to drive the not-too-bad car. They immediately raised their guns and shouted, "Follow our orders!"

At that moment, a loud "boom" was heard, and the jeep that had attracted the monster was destroyed by it. Upon seeing this, a soldier immediately took his gun and walked to the back door of the vehicle, saying, "Get in, we'll use this vehicle."

The Punisher is actually quite powerful, but for Daken's safety, things will remain as they are for now.

?

Chapter 642 The Anomalies in the Main World [3]

"Oh? Is that so?" Moser jumped from the top of a building, causing minor damage to the ground upon landing.

"Ah!...You...you...you...why didn't you...?" The Blackwatch commander was clearly startled by Moser's sudden appearance.

"Calling headquarters, calling headquarters! Patrol Five has spotted Creator Alexsmoth! Patrol Five has spotted Creator Alexsmoth! Need backup! Need backup! This is not a charade! Send backup while we're still alive!" The Marine Corps officer roared into the walkie-talkie. Compared to the Blackwatch commander, he appeared much calmer.

Report your location.

"We are at... ah..."

Before he could finish speaking, the walkie-talkie was pierced by Moser's whip-fist.

The Blackwatch commander next to them had just taken out his walkie-talkie when it was also pierced by Moser, and their hearts immediately sank.

"Quickly... report your... location... not... send...! Where... are you...? We're here, right!" The walkie-talkie crackled with static from the ground.

"We, we, are in hell now," Moser said coldly into the walkie-talkie. Then, with a slight shovel of his whip-fist, a spark flew, and the walkie-talkie was instantly reduced to scrap metal.

"Just now, was it you who said you were going to kick me to pieces?" Moser said to the Blackwatch officer who had just been so aggressive.

“I… this…” the Blackwatch commander stammered.

"How about we have a spar?" Moser said, stiffly twisting his neck.

"..."

"Let's get down to business! I don't want to kill you right now! Just tell me what I want to know," Moser said to the stunned patrol.

None of the soldiers around dared to attack Moser, because they knew what would happen if they did.

"How did you find us?" the Blackwatch officer asked preemptively, seemingly having recovered from the shock of the earlier encounter.

"You need to get this straight!" Moser pointed to the building that had just been bombarded by Blackwatch soldiers with rocket launchers, creating a large cloud of smoke, and then said with a furious wrinkle on his nose.

“Oh, fack! If we survive, you can forget about your retirement pension!” The Blackwatch officer shouted, pointing with a trembling hand at the culprit who had lured Moser there.

"Now, I'm asking you. Tell me, why did Manhattan become like this? What exactly happened?"

"Hmph! What happened? Why don't you ask yourself?" the Marine Corps officer beside him said angrily.

"Impossible. I didn't do that at all."

"Impossible? Then ask everyone here! Ask them! Ask our fallen brothers! It's all because of you that you've spread the virus in Manhattan again, turning Manhattan into hell once more. Do you know how many brothers have died trying to eradicate this virus? And my family died in this outbreak. But I should thank you, thank you for not killing my child. If I were dead, he would definitely come back for revenge!" The Marine officer cursed Moser angrily and heartbrokenly.

“He has no chance!” Although Moser had lost part of his memory, he sensed from the Marine Corps officer's words that it was true, and he said viciously.

Just as the two sides were locked in a stalemate, the enemy's super soldier suddenly charged towards Moser for some unknown reason.

The super soldier's fist, brimming with dark blue energy, hurtled towards Moser. But Moser simply grabbed the fist and flung it away.

"Oh my god! What kind of reaction speed is this? I only just noticed Morse," the Blackwatch officer said, covering his face. It seems that his intelligence and reaction speed have declined significantly after being transformed into a super soldier.

"Let's see how capable you are!" the super soldier said, throwing a punch. Moser calmly dodged and blocked the attacks. Suddenly, Moser seized an opportunity, sidestepping the attack. His right hand switched to muscle form and punched the super soldier hard in the stomach.

"Ouch... Ah!" The super soldier clearly felt the pain and covered his stomach with his hand. While the super soldier was distracted, Mercer used his right hand to strike the enemy's chin hard, delivering a heavy uppercut. It should be noted that the strength of a muscular arm is hundreds of times that of a normal punch.

"Ah!!!" The super soldier was knocked back a few steps, but was not affected.

"Okay, you've really angered me now!" The super soldier said to Moser, gathering dark blue energy all over his body.

As soon as he finished speaking, the super soldier lunged at Moser, attempting an over-the-shoulder throw. However, Moser nimbly dodged the attack with a front flip and landed behind him.

Moser grabbed the opponent's armor with his muscular right hand, lifted him up, and hurled him violently towards a building. A deafening crash followed as the super soldier slammed into the building. Before he could react, the building collapsed, countless fragments raining down on him and gradually burying him. Then, silence.

Moser slowly turned around, and just then, a white cannonball came straight at him.

The white shell exploded the instant it hit Moser, instantly filling the air with smoke and dust. The force of the explosion was enough to reduce the surrounding area to ashes. Strangely, however, the people and buildings nearby were completely unharmed. In other words, only Moser was injured by the blast.

As the smoke cleared, Moser appeared atop a charred mess. A gaping hole had been blasted into his chest, and black, thread-like veins were slowly but surely healing the wound...

Artillery shell launch source

"Sir, are you alright?"

"We're alright! The reinforcements arrived just in time! By the way, how did you find us?"

"Look!" The Blackwatch soldier who had arrived as reinforcements pointed to the spot where another soldier had just destroyed something, creating thick smoke. It seemed the smoke wasn't just attracting Mercer's attention.