It looks just like the real thing.
It's amazing to think that Vanessa uses living people to create oil paintings.
Then these statues might have been copied from living people.
But so what?
Isn’t it enough if it looks good?
He moved between the sculptures, and with every step he took he could hear the sound of his footsteps echoing in the museum. The sound seemed to be amplified countless times, making him feel as if he were in a huge echo chamber.
Suddenly, Fisk found that the eyes of a sculpture seemed to be following him. He stopped and stared at the sculpture closely. It was a male sculpture with a stern face and an indescribable gloom in his eyes.
Just as Fisk was about to take a closer look, the sculptures around him began to move. They seemed to be given life, slowly moving their bodies. The arms that were originally still began to rise, and the legs and feet began to move, making heavy friction sounds, like ancient gears turning with difficulty.
Watching the statue gather around from all directions.
Fisk took the lead in launching the attack. He rushed towards the warrior statue in the front, and his body was like an arrow shot from a bow, and he instantly arrived in front of the statue. He waved his fist, and the colorful light gathered on his fist to form a dazzling light. This punch hit the statue's abdomen heavily, making a dull sound.
However, the sculpture only shook slightly and did not suffer any serious damage.
The sculpture swung its arm back, and the thick arm swept towards Fisk with a whistling sound. Fisk stood there, motionless, and only the statue's arm made a dull sound when it hit Fisk's body.
Fisk sneered: "Didn't you eat?" His voice echoed in the sculpture hall with undisguised contempt.
The statue seemed to be enraged by Fisk's provocation, and a flash of anger seemed to flash in its eyes. Then, it raised its other arm high, and then smashed it down at Fisk at the same time. This time, the arm swung faster and with more amazing force, and the sound of the wind whistled in the museum, like a surging wave.
Fisk remained calm. Just as the sculpture's arms were about to hit him, he suddenly stretched out his hands and accurately grabbed the sculpture's wrists. His hands were like iron clamps, tightly locking the sculpture's arms, preventing it from moving forward. "Your strength is just that, Vanessa. Do you think such a trick can trap me?" Fisk's voice still did not carry much emotion, and his eyes were full of disdain.
The other sculptures around saw their companions being restrained by Fisk, and they all quickened their speed to surround him. They took heavy steps, and each step made the ground tremble slightly. Fisk glanced at the approaching threats around him, and the corners of his mouth slightly raised, revealing a confident smile.
He exerted force with both hands and threw the sculpture he was holding towards the surrounding sculptures. The sculpture was like a huge cannonball, drawing an arc in the air and then smashing heavily into the other sculptures. For a moment, several sculptures were knocked over and over, making a rumbling sound, and the entire sculpture hall seemed to be shaken by the violent impact.
Fisk raised his foot and stamped on the ground.
The whole person immediately disappeared from the spot, and when he appeared again, he hugged the arm of a sculpture with both hands and twisted it with sudden force.
With a "click" sound, Fisk suddenly exerted force with both hands, and the force was like a surging tide, instantly pouring into the arms of the sculpture.
His muscles were tense and his veins bulged, like tough ropes winding under his skin.
Under the influence of his powerful strength, the sculpture's arm was twisted off, and stone fragments flew out from the broken part, like fireworks being blown up by stone chips.
A sculpture without an arm is like a boat without an oar, and its movements become slower.
Fisk's eyes were as sharp as an eagle's, and his body was like a nimble phantom, quickly moving behind the sculpture. As he moved, his steps were light and swift, and each step was like a silent note in the air, without the slightest drag.
Fisk came to the back of the sculpture without any hesitation. He used his left foot as a support point and pushed his right foot back to gather strength. The muscles in his entire leg contracted instantly, like a taut bowstring. Then, he kicked hard at the joint of the sculpture's leg like a shot arrow.
The kick was precise and powerful, his toes hitting the target accurately, as if it was a carefully calculated attack. The huge force was transmitted from his legs to the joints of the sculpture, and with a dull sound, the joints of the sculpture's legs were shattered. The broken stones were like defeated soldiers, scattered one after another, and the whole body of the sculpture, which had lost its support, fell to the ground with a bang, raising a cloud of dust, like a collapsed hill.
After dealing with one sculpture, Fisk did not relax his vigilance, because he was keenly aware that there were more sculptures surrounding him. His eyes became colder and colder, like the twinkling cold stars in the night sky, but his body was like a nimble cheetah, instantly entering combat mode.
He shuttled through the sculptures, each of his movements was neat and clean. Sometimes he slid sideways through the narrow gap between two sculptures, his body almost parallel to the ground, like a gust of wind passing close to the ground; sometimes he jumped high, and in the moment of briefly staying in the air, he quickly adjusted his posture to avoid the sculpture's arms sweeping from below at a perfect angle, and then fell like a meteor to another best attack position.
He kept looking for every opportunity to attack, his eyes like a precise scanner, quickly locking onto the joints of the sculptures. Every time he attacked, it was like lightning streaking through the night sky, swift and precise. He clenched his fists, and his arms were like waving steel whips, smashing hard at the knee joint of a sculpture. This attack contained a powerful force, and at the moment of hitting the target, the stone at the knee joint of the sculpture broke, and with a loud noise, the sculpture fell to one side.
It seemed that Fisk was about to destroy all the sculptures easily.
The deafening roar of the statue falling down seemed like a merciless mockery of Vanessa.
When Vanessa saw that her most powerful army was so vulnerable in Fisk's hands, she was shocked at first, and then a chill spread from the bottom of her heart.
She understood that Fisk was definitely not an enemy who could be conquered by force. This man possessed an indescribable tenacity and strength, and this strength did not come simply from his physique.
With a slight movement in her heart, Vanessa decided to gamble her last chip.
The surrounding scene melted quickly again, like ice under the scorching sun. The originally solid walls, floor and ceiling of the sculpture gallery turned into pools of flowing liquid and then quickly disappeared.
But this time Fisk was not ready to sit and wait for death. His eyes were full of vigilance and determination. He kicked the ground with his legs and shot up like an arrow, flying quickly into the air.
Cyan elemental spirits wrapped around his body. In the outside world, these elemental spirits were transparent and invisible to the naked eye. They existed silently like the breeze hidden in the air, silently guarding Fisk.
But here, in this strange dream world controlled by Vanessa, they seemed to be cast by magic and could be easily seen with the naked eye.
Those elemental spirits were like a group of smart little elves, dancing happily around Fisk's body, and each elf emitted a soft cyan light, as if it was painted with a layer of colorful paint. The colors were bright and vivid, and they were particularly eye-catching in this ever-changing dream world.
Fisk was just about to aim in a direction and rush forward, trying to break through the trap that was about to be reshaped again.
However, at this moment, the world around me was filled with melodious dance music. The melody of the dance music was like a trickle, slowly flowing in the air, and like an invisible ribbon, gently wrapping around every inch of space.
Countless women were dancing and singing to the music. Their bodies were like willow branches in the wind, swaying gracefully. Just like the previous feast of wine and meat, they were naked, and their skin was shining with an alluring luster under the dim light. Their eyes were dull, like puppets without souls, just mechanically swaying their bodies to the rhythm of the music.
There is no man here, and the whole scene seems like a carnival feast that belongs only to women.
And there was not a single ugly woman, each of them could be considered quite pretty. Their faces were delicate, like carefully carved works of art, with big, bright eyes, small, straight noses, and lips like delicate rose petals, exuding charming charm.
In addition, Vanessa didn't seem to like black people very much. Most of them were white and yellow, with only a few black pearls with proud figures. Those white women had skin as white as snow, and their golden or silver hair fell like a waterfall, swaying gently under the rhythm of the dance music, like flowing sunlight or moonlight. The yellow women, on the other hand, had a unique oriental charm. Their black hair was like black satin, soft and smooth, and their delicate skin exuded a faint blush, like blooming peach blossoms.
As for the few black people, they are tall and plump, with black skin like the finest black pearls, exuding a mysterious and attractive luster, and their body curves like rolling mountains, full of wild charm. Perhaps it is because of this that they were chosen as Vanessa's collection.
"Mr. Fisk, welcome to my dance. I am right here. Your power makes me feel surrendered. As long as you can find me on this dance floor without hurting anyone, I will surrender.
But if you can't find me, then please leave my castle... I know I can't keep you no matter what, but I have hidden more than 150 paintings in New York. If you want to fight to the death with me, these paintings will definitely appear in tomorrow's New York Daily. By then, more than 80% of the people in New York will see the paintings I created. Their dreams will also be connected to me, and then they will all die, 80% of the people in New York will die. "Vanessa's voice came from all directions, and the women below were still dancing. Every one of their movements was so uniform that there was no beauty, only a creepy and weird feeling.
Fisk had met Vanessa before, so for Vanessa to propose such a challenge, she must have changed her appearance or her features. More importantly, these women below all possessed soul spots, which greatly increased the difficulty for Fisk to find Vanessa.
However, Vanessa was wrong. Who did she think she was? Did she think Fisk was a kind-hearted superhero?
Please, Fisk is a gang leader, a butcher who has killed countless people. She actually threatened Fisk with the lives of 80% of the people in New York... This is really fatal. New York is Fisk's base. If all the people die, he won't be able to recruit even construction workers in the future. Does he have to recruit workers from other places?
Washington?
Texas?
Or Nevada?
However, Fisk was not prepared to be played around by this woman. He slowly landed on the dance floor, looking at the graceful and tall figures around him, smacking his lips, and suddenly raised his hand: "Give me a glass of whiskey. I've been thirsty after talking so much."
In an instant, a crystal clear wine glass appeared out of thin air in his hand, filled with amber-colored whiskey. Fisk gently shook the glass, and the ice cubes collided in the liquor, making a crisp sound. He took a sip, and the spicy and mellow taste spread in his mouth.
Fisk watched this erotic dance, half-closed his eyes, observing every detail on the dance floor calmly. His eyes carried a lazy scrutiny, as if he was the master of it all, and this dance was just an interesting performance in front of him. Suddenly, he reached out quickly like a cheetah, accurately grabbed the arm of a tall Asian woman, and then took her into his arms.
The moment he embraced the woman, her body froze slightly, like a frightened deer. But soon, she resumed her mechanical dance, like a well-programmed puppet. Her eyes were still dull, like a gem that had lost its luster, as if everything happening around her had nothing to do with her, and she was just immersed in her own controlled world.
Fisk gently caressed the woman's body. His fingers were like nimble snakes, slowly moving on the woman's skin with a vague desire to explore. Starting from the woman's round shoulders, his fingers seemed to be savoring a rare treasure, slowly sliding towards her slender waist inch by inch. Every movement was like playing a silent and charming song.
The latter's body trembled silently, it was an instinctive reaction. Even though her consciousness was controlled, her body instinctively still retained a trace of alertness to strange touches. The subtle tremor was like a ripple on a calm lake, although not obvious, it was particularly attractive on this seemingly numb body.
Suddenly, Fisk raised his head and drank the whiskey in his hand. The amber liquor slid down his throat, and he squinted his eyes slightly, as if he was enjoying the stimulation brought by the liquor. Then, he bit the ice cube with his teeth, and the ice cube flashed a cold luster between his white teeth. Then, he pressed his tongue against the ice cube, slowly extended his tongue tip, and drew a circle quickly on the woman's smooth neck with the ice cube.
The cold ice cube touched the woman's warm skin, just like the cold night wind blowing through the hot desert, instantly causing a layer of tiny goose bumps on her skin. Those goose bumps were like pearls dotted on her smooth skin, adding a different kind of temptation. The track of the ice cube sliding on her neck was like a cold little snake winding forward, and every slide left a string of crystal water droplets. The water droplets rolled on her neck, like a bunch of smart crystals, reflecting the ambiguous light around them.
The woman's expression did not change at all, she still looked dull, but her body was trembling slightly. This trembling was a mixture of the coldness brought by the ice and the inexplicable tension brought by Fisk's aggressive behavior. Her body was like a leaf swaying in the wind, and the slight swaying exuded an indescribable temptation. Her controlled numbness and her body's instinctive reaction were intertwined, just like darkness and light fighting for control in her body. This sense of contradiction made her even more charming in Fisk's arms.
The dance music around suddenly became more lively.
As if reflecting the climax of the dance, the glass in Fisk's hand disappeared, but a new glass of whiskey appeared in his palm. Fisk shook his head, threw away the whiskey, and then said to the woman lying in his arms, and then to the women in the hall: "Vanessa, you have already lost."
"Really? Looks like Mr. Fisk has found me."
“In fact, it is true.”
"Then please point it out, Mr. Fisk."
Vanessa's voice came from all directions, echoing throughout the dance floor.
A mocking smile appeared on Fisk's lips. His palms gently climbed up to the woman in his arms... and he squeezed hard, and the woman in his arms struggled violently.
But her strength is nothing compared to Fisk's.
Fisk smiled and said, "You used so many tricks and played word games with me, but no matter which one I choose, it's wrong, because all the women are you, and only when they are together are you Vanessa. No matter which one I choose, in a sense, I only choose a part of you, and it's a wrong choice."
Fisk's words were like a heavy hammer hitting this seemingly erotic but conspiracy-filled atmosphere.
The body of the woman in his arms suddenly began to flicker. At the same time, all the women on the dance floor stopped dancing and also began to flicker.
Then, the bodies of those women seemed to be pulled by an invisible force and gathered towards the woman in Fisk's arms. Their bodies gradually merged to form a complete Vanessa.
Vanessa appeared in front of Fisk in a black evening gown, high heels, and white stockings. The black evening gown was like the darkest shadow after nightfall, with impeccable tailoring. The neckline of the gown was inlaid with a circle of tiny diamonds, which sparkled coldly and dazzlingly under the light.
The high heels on her feet are red, and the bright red creates a strong and charming visual impact with the black evening dress. The heels are slender and tall, like sharp thorns, which are very ornamental.
The white stockings wrapped around her legs were like the thin frost in the morning, delicate and smooth. The stockings clung tightly to her legs, showing the graceful lines of her legs without reservation, from the round calves to the slender ankles, every curve was outlined just right by the white stockings. Against the backdrop of the black evening dress and red high heels, the white color looked particularly pure, but also exuded a contradictory temptation, like a holy light flickering in the darkness, but with a dangerous atmosphere.
Vanessa stood in front of Fisk, with a trace of reluctance and anger on her face. "Mr. Fisk, you are indeed very smart, but do you think you won?" Her voice was cold, and her eyes revealed a hint of ruthlessness.
Fisk looked at her, still with a mocking smile on his face. "Ms. Vanessa, I've seen through your tricks. What else do you have now? Are you not going to admit defeat? Are you going to fight to the death?"
Vanessa suddenly burst into laughter, and the sound was particularly harsh amid the loud dance music.
"Mr. Fisk, you are too naive. No woman would ever keep a promise, at least not me." After saying that, she waved her hands, and countless pictures suddenly appeared on the walls around the dance floor. Those pictures were the oil paintings she had hidden in various places in New York.
"As long as I think about it, these paintings will be released, and then everyone in New York will be under my control." Vanessa threatened.
Fisk still had a disdainful smile on his face, "Then please." He looked as if he didn't care at all, and as if he had already found a way to deal with it.
Vanessa's eyes widened. She couldn't believe that Fisk had already come up with a solution. "You can't find all the paintings, Fisk."
Fisk did not answer her question, but continued: "Ms. Vanessa, continue with your plan. Let's see what other means you have after using your last resort. I am very curious." His voice was calm and indifferent, like a cat playing with its prey that was about to be caught, without the slightest tension or urgency.
Vanessa gritted her teeth. She knew she was at a disadvantage, but she didn't want to give up.
The fire of unwillingness in her heart was still burning, driving her to make a final struggle.
She suddenly took out a dagger from her body. The dagger flashed a cold light in the dim light, just like her determined eyes at the moment. She stabbed Fisk and shouted, "I will not be defeated by you, Fisk."
However, Fisk seemed to have expected this and easily grabbed Vanessa's wrist. His movements were swift and precise, like a nimble snake biting its prey. Then, he pressed Vanessa under his body.
The hustle and bustle of New York City's traffic and people coming and going were clearly displayed in the surrounding oil paintings. Fisk pressed Vanessa under his body as if in front of so many people.
There was a kind of mockery and desire for control in his eyes, a look of condescension from a strong man to a loser.
He tore the black evening dress into pieces with his palms. With a tearing sound, a big hole was torn in Vanessa's black evening dress, revealing a large area of her smooth and white back.
The skin on the back was as delicate and smooth as mutton-fat jade, but in this atmosphere full of tension and struggle, it seemed particularly fragile.
Vanessa struggled hard, but it was still useless. Her body was unable to move under Fisk's control, like a trapped bird. Her eyes were full of anger and humiliation, but she was powerless.
"Sorry, ma'am. If you don't have any other cards up your sleeve, then I'm going to enjoy my spoils. Miss Trophy, what do you think?" Fisk's voice sounded in Vanessa's ears. The voice was low and oppressive, like the whisper of a devil.
As he spoke, Fisk continued to tear off Vanessa's clothes. His movements were so rough that he left large red marks on her fair body due to excessive force.
Vanessa's tears welled up in her eyes. She had never thought she would be humiliated like this. Her lips trembled as she wanted to curse, but she was afraid of further angering Fisk.
There was no mercy in Fisk's eyes, and his hands continued his brutal behavior as if driven by a demon. Vanessa's black evening dress had been torn to pieces, and she tried to cover her exposed body with her hands, but Fisk easily pushed her hands away.
"Fisk, you will pay for your actions!" Vanessa finally squeezed out these words from between her teeth, her voice filled with endless hatred.
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