Silence blanketed the prison.
Every survivor stared at the devastation, minds struggling to process what they'd witnessed.
"What... what was that?"
"Can mutants really do such things?"
"He's a devil! A demon!"
The nearest gang member trembled as he peeled a severed limb off his face, then screamed and fled.
He made it three steps before his boss shot him in the head.
The gang leader roared at his remaining men:
"Stop panicking! There's no way he can use that attack repeatedly!
Focus fire and wear him down! Jello—get the rocket launcher!
Don't forget—we must complete this delivery. If we fail, Kingpin won't let any of us live!"
Invoking that name steadied the survivors. They glared at Leon through their fear, gritted their teeth, and resumed firing.
Apparently, the man called Kingpin terrified them more than the mutant who'd just manifested a gravitational void.
Facing the bullet storm, Leon didn't dodge.
The Limitless Technique's drain was calculated by duration, not incoming damage.
He charged straight toward them, cruel smile widening, as if strolling through a gentle breeze.
Energy flooded his body. Combat instincts inherited from the Gojo Satoru template sharpened his mind to a razor's edge.
Despite never experiencing real combat before, he felt no tension or fear. Only exhilaration.
He pushed off with his right foot. Energy converted to cursed energy, then flowed through pathways guided by the Six Eyes' microscopic precision, enhancing his physical capabilities exponentially.
BOOM!
His enhanced body shattered concrete as he launched himself at the dozens of gang members.
Hands, feet, joints—every part of his body became a lethal weapon under the inheritance of Gojo's supreme combat technique and the Six Eyes' perfect control.
The gangsters couldn't track his movements. Stray bullets that happened to be on target were deflected by the Limitless barrier.
They fell like wheat before a scythe, never to rise again.
Finally, Leon stood before the gang leader. He smiled, casually sliding his hands into his pockets, and walked forward with deliberate slowness.
The leader's mind reeled. Everything he thought he knew about mutants had been shattered by the man approaching him.
How can a mutant be this powerful?
If mutants possessed such strength, why did society treat them like vermin to be exterminated?
"I don't believe it! Your ability must have some weakness!"
The gang leader's roar was meant to dispel his own terror more than intimidate Leon.
At that moment, one of his men rushed forward with a rocket launcher.
Hope ignited in the leader's eyes. Fear evaporated, replaced by desperate confidence.
He snatched the weapon and aimed it at Leon with shaking hands:
"Go to hell!"
The rocket screamed forward under fierce propulsion, detonating at Leon's feet in a massive fireball.
The gang leader laughed hysterically, trembling:
"Die, you mutant freak!"
But when the explosion faded, clear footsteps emerged from the smoke. An arm reached through the haze, seizing the gang leader by the throat.
"Ghk—"
Eyes like the depths of an azure ocean appeared first, followed by striking white hair, and finally the tattered, blood-stained clothes that contrasted starkly with his otherworldly features.
As the gang leader and his remaining men watched in horror, Leon smiled darkly.
"Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue!"
The azure vortex materialized in his palm. The gang leader's screams were cut short as the technique consumed him entirely, then continued forward, blasting a massive hole through the prison wall.
Without sparing a glance at the survivors, Leon converted energy to cursed power, enhancing his body one final time. He vanished from his position, passed through the breach, and escaped into freedom—leaving behind only the incapacitated gang members and the innocent prisoners whose cells now stood open.
After Leon departed, silence reigned for several heartbeats.
Then massive cheers erupted. The innocent rushed toward the gap—toward freedom itself.
Several hours later, in an opulent room in Hell's Kitchen, a dazzling crystal chandelier illuminated the scene below.
The man seated in the chair seemed cloaked in shadow despite the light.
Two meters tall, massively built—he resembled a mountain given human form.
The man reporting to him wore unusual tactical gear.
"Bullseye. You're telling me the transaction failed?"
An ordinary person facing the man called Kingpin would have trembled, perhaps collapsed entirely. But Bullseye continued with mechanical calm:
"Yes. Nearly all members are dead. Most don't even have recoverable remains.
Intelligence suggests one of the captives was a mutant. He's responsible for everything."
Silence stretched for a full minute before Kingpin opened his eyes, speaking without emotion:
"Can you kill him?"
"If he's human, I can kill him."
"Then I want to see his corpse within one week."
"As you wish."
Meanwhile, in a hidden corner of Hell's Kitchen, at the underground prison...
A balding man with a kind expression entered the basement, accompanied by several surviving gang members and escaped prisoners.
Upon surveying the damage, the kindness vanished from Agent Coulson's face. He studied the twisted metal cages, shattered floors, and the massive breach in the wall, then asked:
"You're certain a single mutant did all this?"
Everyone nodded immediately. A young woman stepped forward, eyes shining with admiration:
"Yes! He was incredibly handsome—unforgettable silver hair, deep blue eyes like a mountain lake, elegant bearing, and overwhelming power!
Nothing like those violent mutants you hear about. He was a true gentleman!"
Despite the woman's obvious infatuation coloring her account, useful intelligence emerged about the mysterious mutant.
Coulson examined the devastation again—particularly the massive wall breach and the crater in the floor—and muttered to himself:
"Azure gravitational vortex... An unknown, highly powerful mutant. Definitely Level 3, possibly Level 4, and... Level 5 isn't out of the question."
A deep voice crackled through his earpiece:
"Agent Coulson. Status report?"
"Director Fury, this mutant is extremely powerful. He'd be perfect for your initiative."
"Good. Dedicate full resources to locating him. Make contact and attempt recruitment. I want him for the team."
"Understood, sir."