[Marvel : The God Of Punishment] Chapter 41 - 45

Chapter 41: Director, We Are in Trouble

Facing Hawkeye's accusation, Jason remained unfazed. "I've killed many people, but who among them was innocent?"

"Even if they were guilty, do they all deserve the death penalty? Even for serious crimes, they still deserve to be tried according to the law..."

Jason shook his head. "If the law could effectively judge every evildoer, I wouldn't be here. The real purpose of the law is to maintain order, not to punish crime. It maintains the order of the upper class while judging the crimes of the lower class!"

He turned to gaze at the sunset. "I don't know if SHIELD views me as malicious or benevolent, and frankly, I don't care. But please don't interfere while I cleanse this world. Besides, if SHIELD itself is guilty, it will become my next target for cleansing!"

He gave Natasha one final, meaningful look. "Find Dreykov, correct your mistakes, and complete your redemption!"

With that, he turned and walked away.

Hawkeye watched his retreating figure and thought to himself, Don't be so arrogant, boy! You want to cleanse SHIELD while we're still burdened with sins? Who do you think you are? We're an organization that maintains world peace, for God's sake! Hmph, next time I get the chance, I'll definitely put an arrow in you!

Coulson, monitoring the exchange from a distance, frowned deeply.

One of his subordinates informed him that Iron Man was about to leave the surveillance area.

Coulson considered for a moment before ordering, "Let him go for now."

The primary issue at hand was Black Widow and Hawkeye.

The Budapest operation had essentially served as Black Widow Natasha's pledge of allegiance to SHIELD. After that mission, the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division had officially accepted her into their ranks.

But now, with questions surrounding that mission, they faced a significant problem.

Even worse, Hawkeye was implicated as well. What a mess! Two of their ace agents were in trouble!

Of course, Coulson wanted to trust his teammates, but his Director...

"Coulson, as an agent you must be skeptical of everything!"

Damn!

Recalling the Director's teachings, he felt a migraine forming, but regardless, he needed to report the situation.

"Dudu..." The phone rang.

"Coulson, how's the operation progressing? Did you apprehend that damn poisoner? Don't disappoint me again..."

"Sir, we have a situation..."

After listening to Coulson's account, there was a prolonged silence on the other end of the line, followed by an enraged roar.

"Damn it~Fuck!"

...

Jason activated the system and noticed the column "Creed: Kill to gain redemption" flashing on the panel.

Soon, a notification sound emerged from the system.

[Congratulations on unlocking the system gift function: When the host obtains sources of upgrades, bloodlines, skills, and abilities, he can choose to bestow them upon others. Note: The recipient must be a believer of the creed.]

Shit, Jason silently complained. I barely have enough for myself, and now I'm supposed to give it to others? Besides, there aren't many people who qualify to believe in this creed. Don't you have plenty of lives that could be used for it?

Darkness had fallen by the time he returned to Hopewell Sanctuary.

After dinner and a shower, he stretched out comfortably on his bed.

Near midnight, the other woman he'd been expecting for some time finally arrived.

She nimbly leapt onto the balcony of Hopewell Sanctuary, carefully entered the inner chamber, and slipped through Jason's half-open door. "Master, I've arrived."

"Good. Close the door."

The Bride of Nine Spiders who’s real name is Alessa Geomi had obviously taken care with her appearance, trading her previously gaudy, smoky makeup for a purer, more charming look.

"Come, sit on the bed and tell me... about the Hand's situation."

As a subordinate of Madam Gao from the Hand, she was intimately familiar with its internal workings.

"Master, I've just learned that the Hand has a shocking conspiracy!"

...

In an undisclosed luxury manor, within a massive office. "Click!"

"Hiss... mmm!"

Kingpin took a long drag from the large cigar he'd just lit, but his face showed no pleasure.

His right-hand man Wesley stood beside him, frowning. "Boss, are we really withdrawing from New York?"

Kingpin's eyes darkened. "Wesley, the world has changed."

"It's just one more masked vigilante. We already had Daredevil before. We weren't afraid of him!"

Kingpin shook his head. "Wesley, the reason why we—or any criminal organization—wield power isn't because we have money, guns, or manpower. It's because we operate outside the rules while others remain bound by them.

Daredevil is formidable, but he still operates within certain parameters—the rules of morality. But Hell’s Butcher is different. He ignores the rules even more completely than we do!"

Kingpin fell silent for a moment before continuing. "The powerful figures of the past were all constrained by rules, which provided us the fertile soil to thrive. Now, there's a rabid beast with gnashing teeth who disregards all rules and is feeding on us, and we can't stop him. If he continues to exist, I guarantee the criminal organizations in New York will face their darkest era because of him!"

Wesley took a deep breath. Could one masked vigilante truly be so devastating?

He couldn't help but glance toward the adjacent room where Vanessa, Kingpin's new girlfriend, was staying.

My boss, is it that the enemy is too powerful, or have you become weak?

He wanted to speak but held his tongue.

"Brrr….Brrr..."

The phone rang suddenly.

Kingpin remained motionless. Wesley instinctively answered. He immediately recognized the voice on the other end—Madam Gao from the Hand.

Kingpin gestured, and Wesley activated the speakerphone.

A shrill elderly woman's voice emanated from the device: "Kingpin, the Hand has suffered devastating losses. We demand vengeance!"

A few hours later, in a secret chamber.

Kingpin stared with surprise at Daredevil, who was chained and struggling before him.

The Hand had actually captured him?

As soon as Daredevil spotted Kingpin, he began shouting, "Kingpin, it's you! You bastard, what did you do to Elektra, you devil!"

"Who would have thought that the famous Daredevil was actually a blind man?"

Glancing at the discarded mask on the floor, Kingpin couldn't suppress a sigh.

He studied the vigilante's face again. "And you, a blind man, are actually a lawyer! I must say, this revelation shocked me almost as much as hearing the Hand had captured you!"

"You bastards, where's Elektra? What have you done to her?" Daredevil roared.

"A street vigilante who breaks the law yet makes his living upholding it. This world is more fascinating than I imagined. When you're in court sending guilty people to prison, do you ever think about yourself? Do you consider that one day you might be among them?"

"Where's Elektra, you son of a bitch!"

Kingpin grew impatient. "Elektra, Elektra, Elektra. Are women so important to you? Are you a superhero or a hopeless romantic?"

Daredevil calmed slightly and snorted. "What would a cold-blooded crime boss like you understand? She was being controlled by someone when she betrayed me. I need to save her! If I can't even protect the woman I love, what kind of hero am I?"

Kingpin suddenly fell silent. I understand. I understand all too well!

The Hand used a woman to manipulate you. Their methods are truly despicable.

He unexpectedly felt a strange sense of kinship with his enemy...

"Kingpin, you're not actually sympathizing with him, are you?"

Chapter 42: The Truth about the Fraternity

Suddenly, a shrill voice cut through the tension. It was Madam Gao, approaching from behind.

"I know you've fallen in love with a woman recently, Kingpin. I hope she won't make you weak!"

Upon hearing this, Kingpin's heart instantly filled with cold rage.

He turned around, his face an expressionless mask, eyes dead and vacant. "Nothing can make me weak. I am now stronger than ever."

Madam Gao observed his eyes, chuckled softly, and shifted her attention to Daredevil. "For someone like you, falling in love is a grave mistake. To make matters worse, you fell for a female assassin. You have no future together. You may provide them with money, status, and affection, but you can never give them the sense of security that women need most. The wisest course is to sever ties early, before tragedy inevitably strikes."

These words silenced both Daredevil and Kingpin.

After a moment's hesitation, Daredevil looked at Kingpin. "You also have—"

"Shut up!" Kingpin glared at him venomously.

He turned to Madam Gao. "I didn't come here for your cryptic psychological insights. You mentioned on the phone that you wanted to revive... the Beast?"

Madam Gao smiled, with a hint of reverence in her tone. "To be precise, we intend to channel the power of this ancient demon god into our world. Daredevil remains alive because he is the perfect vessel for the Beast."

Daredevil's eyes widened in horror. He had certainly heard of the Beast before and immediately shouted, "Are you insane? You'll plunge all of New York into irreversible catastrophe!"

Kingpin picked up the discarded mask from the floor, approached Daredevil, and smiled coldly. "I have no alternative. That Hell’s Butcher has become too formidable a threat. For the future of New York's underworld, this is our only recourse. Blame him if you must."

With that, he stuffed the mask into Daredevil's mouth, muffling his protests to unintelligible sounds.

Kingpin turned back to Madam Gao. "So, what must we do to summon this... 'Beast'?"

...

Before Alessa could finish her account, Jason sat bolt upright, shock evident on his face.

Damn it. The Hand actually plans to summon the Beast?

He wondered if the Ancient One knew about this threat. He had asked for her help to return home, but she had ignored his requests. Perhaps she was visiting another dimension?

Deep in thought, he beckoned to Alessa, who obediently lay down. Once again, he bit into her neck.

What he injected this time was his unique Daywalker blood.

After becoming a vampire, Alessa's physical capabilities had been greatly enhanced, but her weaknesses were obvious and easily exploited. After receiving Jason's Daywalker's Blood, not only did her three major vulnerabilities disappear, but her physical prowess increased further, and her blood thirst diminished significantly.

Combined with her poison skills, her combat effectiveness had increased exponentially. Even if she returned to the Hand, few could match her in battle.

After she departed, Jason continued strategizing.

For a threat of this magnitude, he needed to contact SHIELD. They couldn't simply stand idle while claiming to maintain world peace!

He woke David and instructed him to call the number from their previous contact.

The call connected quickly, and Coulson's voice came through. "Hello?"

"Are Hawkeye and Black Widow currently in New York? Tell them to postpone the search for Dreykov—there's a potential catastrophe brewing in the city. Have them both ready to mobilize at my signal. Additionally, SHIELD must prepare evacuation protocols for civilians and be ready to follow my command when the time comes."

Click.

The line went dead.

Coulson, jarred from his sleep, listened to the dial tone with bewilderment written across his face.

Was that call from Hell’s Butcher or from Director Fury?

You issued orders with such authority and efficiency—what clearance level are you operating at?

I'm level eight, and nobody except the Director speaks to me that way!

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Coulson nonetheless knew the work had to be done. He retrieved his phone, located Fury's number, and dialed.

"Hey?"

"Sir, I need to inform you that this Hell’s Butcher character is overstepping his boundaries..."

...

The following morning, a familiar face arrived at the church.

Wesley was a novice assassin who had recently completed the martial arts training of the Fraternity.

The system didn't register him as target, indicating he hadn't yet carried out any missions. This was precisely why Wesley had sought out Jason.

The previous day, he had received his first assassination assignment but had hesitated.

He couldn't bring himself to kill a stranger.

Moreover, he recalled Jason's earlier advice to consult him before executing his first kill mission.

Wesley explained his situation, and Jason nodded with satisfaction.

"You're fortunate you followed my instructions. Otherwise, I would have killed you myself."

Wesley froze, wondering if he had misheard.

How could the priest—once so compassionate and gentle during their counseling sessions—utter such a threat?

Seeing his incredulous expression, Jason smiled and extended his finger like a blade. "Come, try to stop me."

His arm left a blur of motion as his finger stopped mere millimeters from Wesley's eye.

Wesley stumbled backward, shock evident on his face.

The Fraternity had many capable members, but none possessed such terrifying speed and precision!

His heart pounded as though he were facing an ancient predator.

Jason advanced slowly. "I said, stop me!"

Everything around Wesley became a blur, and again came the shadow of the finger.

Wesley pushed his abilities to their absolute limit.

Adrenaline surged through his system, and his perception of time slowed—everything except that relentless finger!

He backpedaled clumsily, like a toddler learning to walk.

The third attempt.

Once again, the finger stopped with precision just short of his eye.

Jason slowly withdrew his hand and stood with arms clasped behind his back.

Wesley's shirt clung to his sweat-soaked back as he gasped for air, like a drowning man who had just broken the surface.

"Father... who are you?"

"I am... a knight of God!"

Wesley remained bewildered. "What... what does that mean?"

"I am a knight sent by the divine to punish evil... This world will either be purified by my hand or destroyed by it!"

"I... I don't understand..."

Jason had succeeded in his first conversion attempt—not because of any particular improvement in his technique, but because Wesley was exceptionally naive.

After all, in the original timeline, this man had been easily manipulated by the Fraternity into killing his own father.

Jason had provided spiritual counseling to Wesley many times before and had already established credibility with him.

This outcome was almost inevitable.

In the church's backyard, Jason revealed the true nature of the Brotherhood to Wesley.

Wesley was stunned into silence.

"You mean the Fraternity trained me to kill my own father?"

"Yes."

Jason nodded solemnly. "Fraternity leader Sloan betrayed the organization for financial gain. He forged assassination lists and ordered the deaths of innocent people according to his whims. Every murder carried out by the Fraternity was orchestrated by his corruption! Your father discovered this treachery and left to stop Sloan."

Wesley suddenly connected the pieces. "Then Fox..."

"She was a true believer, but unfortunately... the Loom of Fate couldn't save her."

Wesley collapsed into a nearby chair, devastated.

He could scarcely comprehend that Sloan—a man of eloquent speech and refined manners—would betray everything the Fraternity supposedly stood for.

Damn, that manipulative old man is terrifying!

"What should I do now?"

"First, find your biological father. Then, the Fraternity requires a thorough purification!"

Chapter 43: You Think I'm Useless, Don't You?

In the backyard of Hopewell Sanctuary, Jason was sweeping fallen flower petals when he heard a bell ring.

Someone had entered the confessional.

Through the hollow wooden partition, he received a system prompt that the person on the opposite side was a Bronze-tier target.

A cold female voice spoke: "Father Jason?"

"That's me."

There was the sound of a door opening on the opposite side, and then the door on Jason's side swung open as a figure rushed in.

A warm body with a distinctive scent settled directly across his thighs.

In the cramped confessional, the temperature began to rise.

Hiss!

Jason swallowed hard. He could clearly feel the visitor's elastic curves and toned thigh muscles against him.

Two slender arms draped over his shoulders, bringing them close enough that her breath caressed his face.

Through cascading golden curls, he could clearly see her face—fair, delicate skin, deep-set eyes, fiery red lips, and piercing gaze.

Angelina Jolie... no, this is Fox from the Fraternity!

He instantly understood—it seemed the Fraternity had been tracking Wesley.

But what did this deadly goddess intend? To kill him or seduce him?

If it was the former, he would fight back with all his might; if it was the latter... he would also fight back with all his might!

Fox lowered her right hand, placed it firmly on Jason's chest, and began searching for something.

"What did you tell Wesley?"

Jason felt an inexplicable anger rising within him, his heart racing.

He was thirty-three in his previous life, twenty-two in this one—over fifty years of combined experience. How could he be manhandled like this?

Damn, does she think my weapon is just for show?

"Who? Wesley who?" he feigned confusion.

Fox paused, continued her search, found what she was looking for, and pinched firmly.

Hiss!

Jason immediately regained his composure. "Hey, what do you think you're doing? This is a church! Get off me right now!"

He began pushing her away, and she resisted.

Within the small confessional, the aging wooden bench creaked ominously.

Until...

"SMACK!"

Jason suddenly delivered a sharp slap to Fox's backside, causing her to freeze in shock.

"You naughty girl, God will hold me accountable if He sees this!"

"CLICK."

A loaded pistol pressed against Jason's temple.

"Remove your right hand from my hip, and your left from around my waist!"

Jason raised his hands in compliance.

"I'll ask once more: what did you tell Wesley?"

Jason shrugged helplessly. "Don't be hasty. We simply discussed how Sloan betrayed his principles for financial gain, using you to eliminate innocent people. Then, when Cross discovered this, Sloan manipulated you into training Cross's son to kill his own father."

Fox was momentarily stunned.

"What nonsense are you spouting?"

"You and Cross worked together for years—why the sudden distrust? The Loom of Fate may be infallible, but can you truly say Sloan is free from selfish motives? Cross had evidence. Did you ever give him the chance to present it? Ask yourself—should any righteous organization really condone training a son to kill his own father? The truth is, Sloan's orders were simple: eliminate and silence every witness."

Fox's jaw dropped, her face registering disbelief.

The man before her had accurately described the recent turmoil within the Fraternity but had provided a completely different explanation.

Emotionally, she should trust Sloan and the Fraternity.

But deep down, doubt began to take root.

Cross's unexpected betrayal, Sloan's questionable orders, the heinous crime of manipulating a son to kill his father—all these anomalies surfaced in her mind simultaneously.

Reading her expression, Jason knew his revelation had hit hard, but it was the truth.

He gently pushed away the hand holding the gun and looked directly into her eyes. "Your name has already appeared on the list. So has the Repairman's, the Butcher's, the Russian's... everyone's name except Wesley's, who hasn't yet completed his assignment."

Fox shuddered involuntarily.

Seeing the beautiful assassin's distress, Jason momentarily set aside his more predatory instincts.

"Fox, I know a way to alleviate sorrow. Would you like to try it?"

Fox's eyes widened. "What?" Before she could finish, she suddenly felt her wrists bound, causing her to fall forward against a solid chest.

A breath with a refreshing scent played across her neck.

"Ah~"

A tingling sensation spread from her neck, and an extraordinary feeling coursed through her body...

...

Twilight descended over Hopewell Sanctuary's backyard.

Around a circular table, dinner was in progress.

Jason and Fox sat unusually close, conversing in hushed tones between bites.

"Sloan must atone for his actions, but those who acted in ignorance need not suffer. You may bear guilt, but the world needs you. Your task isn't merely to atone—it's to achieve redemption. Kill to gain redemption!"

Fox's eyes reflected confusion and contemplation.

David glanced up from his bowl of rice, eyeing Fox, then Jason.

Damn, does being handsome really grant you such liberties? First that woman sneaking into your bedroom yesterday, and now this? Don't think I haven't noticed, you bastard!

"But what will happen to the Fraternity if we eliminate Sloan?" Fox asked.

"The Fraternity will continue operating—with you as its leader."

Fox started, then lapsed into deep thought, seemingly evaluating the feasibility of this proposition.

Notably, Jason had now converted two vampires using his Daywalker Blood, with markedly different results.

Alessa had transformed from a seductive, poison-wielding femme fatale into someone resembling a virtuous wife.

Fox, conversely, had barely changed. While she followed Jason's directives, she maintained her distinctive personality—clean, decisive, heroic, and bold.

The church doorbell chimed.

David opened the door and escorted two visitors inside: Wesley and his father, Cross.

Upon entering, Cross immediately cast a wary glance at Fox. Seeing her relatively neutral reaction, he turned his cautious attention to Jason.

They took their seats.

Cross dispensed with pleasantries. "How do you know so much about the Fraternity, Father?"

Jason smiled. "Didn't Wesley explain it to you?"

He had indeed tried, but Cross remained skeptical.

Knight of God? Preposterous!

Jason observed his expression and intuited his thoughts.

"Mr. Cross, do you doubt God's existence, or merely my status as His knight?"

I don't believe any of it! That's what Cross thought.

Jason perceived this and shook his head in mild rebuke. "You place faith in the Loom of Fate but not in God? Have you considered the meaning of your own name? 'Cross'—derived from 'cross.' How can you reject God or any form of divine authority? Heresy!"

Jason smiled. "The Fraternity exists because of the Loom of Fate, and you serve as its executioners. I represent a synthesis of both roles. I am the police, the judge, the jury, and the executioner!"

Cross frowned slightly, considering this. "Father, do you believe I am guilty?"

"Yes."

"What about Fox?"

"Yes."

"And Wesley?"

"No."

"What about yourself?"

Jason laughed. "I should have been guilty."

Chapter 44: Purification of the Fraternity

"What do you mean by that?" Cross asked, puzzled by Jason's cryptic statement about guilt.

Jason smiled and shook his head. "Let's focus on what matters—how to eliminate Sloan and save the Fraternity. That's the priority, correct?"

Cross considered for a moment before nodding.

"Fox and I have already discussed this," Jason continued. "As the individual who corrupted the faith and betrayed the Fraternity, Sloan must die to atone for his sins. Any accomplices will face the same fate. However, I believe most members were simply deceived into committing crimes. These individuals can be forgiven."

Cross appeared slightly stunned. "But their names have already appeared on the Loom of Fate."

"As guilty parties, they must atone for their sins," Jason replied, giving him a measured smile. "After all, if everyone dies, the Fraternity will cease to exist."

He paused briefly. "Once Sloan is dealt with, Fox will assume leadership. Do you object to this arrangement?"

Cross glanced at Fox, who maintained an inscrutable expression, then shook his head.

"But how can we make everyone understand the truth and eliminate Sloan within the heavily guarded Textile Mill?"

Jason and Fox exchanged a meaningful look, and Cross sensed something wasn't right.

Sure enough, Jason replied with an unsettling smile: "For that, Mr. Cross, we'll need your assistance."

...

Textile Mill or Textile Factory Number 17 stood as an imposing structure on the coastline. After extensive renovations, the old building now resembled a fortress.

With Fox and Wesley's credentials, the four of them gained entry without difficulty.

When the Fraternity members witnessed Cross being brought in bound, they immediately gathered around.

In the main hall, Sloan approached with a cadre of elite assassins, his expression darkening.

"Fox, what's the meaning of this? Now that you've captured Cross, you should eliminate him immediately!"

He cast a suspicious glance at Jason. "And why have you brought an outsider here?"

When Fox remained silent, Cross spoke up: "How could she expose your true nature if she didn't bring me back alive?"

Sloan's eyes grew cold. "We don't waste time conversing with traitors. Fox, kill him!"

As everyone watched, Fox produced a document with a white cloth attached.

"Your name appeared on the Loom, Sloan. Why didn't you inform anyone?"

Fox stepped forward, displaying the cloth for all to see.

"Sloan's name appeared on the Loom of Fate many years ago, but he concealed this truth! He abused his authority to manipulate the Loom's readings, falsifying lists, orchestrating the deaths of innocent people, and turning us all into unwitting sinners!"

She approached the Repairman. "Your name has appeared."

She moved to the Butcher. "Your name has appeared."

She confronted the Russian. "Your name has appeared as well. The names of everyone present have appeared!"

Finally, she faced Sloan directly. "If you doubt my words, I believe Sloan possesses the evidence."

Everyone stood shocked, turning to Sloan, who remained ominously silent.

He surveyed the room—some faces registered shock, others anger, and still others disbelief.

"Do you understand why I did this? Because I didn't want any of you to die!"

His voice rose to a shout. "Do you think this modest textile factory can sustain so many operatives? Consider the ammunition required for training, the equipment needed for missions, the cost of healing pools when you're injured! Do you believe these resources materialized from thin air?

"Do you know the mortality rate for Fraternity members on missions ten years ago compared to now? You all benefit from everything I've provided! And now you stand in judgment of me?"

The entire hall fell silent, punctuated only by the rhythmic clanking of the automatic looms.

Jason stepped forward with a cold smile. "Everyone in this room bears guilt, yet you stand here speaking shamelessly?"

"Who are you?" Sloan demanded.

"Someone who never forgets his purpose."

Sloan fell silent for a moment, then spoke deliberately.

"Twenty-one years ago, I was the Fraternity's newest member. There was a girl with me, just seventeen. We trained together, grew together, carried out missions together. We used the most basic equipment to assassinate the most heavily guarded targets. Every operation was a brush with death, yet she and I persevered through sheer determination.

"I remember one night—our clothes soaked with blood, pursuers closing in, our extraction vehicle broken down. In a dark alley, she told me she was cold. What could I do? What was I supposed to do?"

He addressed the assembled assassins like a practiced orator. "From that day forward, I made a decision! I would rather shoulder a thousand—ten thousand—sins than watch my brothers and sisters die before my eyes!

"Yes, I am guilty! But tell me, after all your years of missions, after witnessing countless unscrupulous businessmen, politicians, and officials—can you eliminate them all? This world is perpetually shrouded in darkness! I merely held an umbrella over you amid the storm!"

He approached Fox, his voice lowering ominously. "Now, if you take away this umbrella, everyone will be drenched in the rain."

Jason confronted him directly. "A tragic past doesn't justify inflicting suffering on the innocent! You may seek vengeance, you may kill, but you have no right to target those who bear no guilt!

"The Fraternity once saved this world from chaos and suffering—it stood as this world's guardian. You have defiled that legacy. Not just the Fraternity itself, but every fallen assassin throughout history. They were driven by passion and justice, yet you've insulted their memory!

"If that girl from your past could see you now, would she plunge her dagger into your heart or take your hand in hers? All previous Fraternity leaders before you made different choices. Were they fools, or are you simply too clever for your own good?"

Jason's gaze swept across every face in the hall, finally locking eyes with Sloan. "You've become the very evil you once swore to destroy."

Sloan and Jason stared each other down, light and darkness battling in their eyes.

Jason turned to address the assembled assassins. "You've heard our words. Now make your choice! Will you follow Sloan in betraying your principles and continuing down this corrupt path? Or will you halt your descent and seek redemption for your remaining days? Your destiny lies in your hands."

The assassins exchanged uncertain glances, but no one moved immediately.

Sloan walked to stand opposite Jason, his posture rigid, making his position clear.

Jason smiled thinly. "Decide quickly. Time grows short."

Finally, someone stepped forward.

One by one, the spectators made their decisions.

When all had chosen, the Fraternity's official assassins stood evenly divided—half behind Sloan, half behind Jason.

Behind Jason, Wesley and Cross looked grim. They hadn't anticipated the Fraternity's corruption had penetrated so deeply. Clearly, leaving this place unscathed would prove challenging.

Jason sighed softly, shook his head, and addressed Sloan's faction one final time. "Before we begin, I have one last question for you all. In life, which is more important: the choices you make, or your hard work and talent?"

He didn't wait for a response.

A blinding, dazzling light—comparable to a nuclear blast—erupted before Jason.

In that instant, everyone screamed in agony as tears flooded their eyes and darkness consumed their vision!

Chapter 45: Control of the Fraternity

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.