Herman felt it was completely unjust that he had somehow become the target of the Fraternity.
"You... you can read my memories?!" The female assassin, having overheard his earlier muttering, grew even more terrified, her face twisted with horror.
The mutant standing before her was far beyond any she had ever encountered.
Not only did he wield powers like an invisible hand—he could also peer directly into minds.
Was he even human anymore?
Her thoughts raced with dread. Then, a more chilling realization struck her: the only bargaining chip she had left for survival was the information in her head. She had planned to trade it with Herman for her life.
But now... her expression collapsed into despair.
"Correct. But that doesn't change your ending." Herman didn't bother to hide the truth, even smiling gently at her.
For someone about to die, there was no need for pretense.
"You can't kill me! If you've seen my memories, then you know—my organization has many assassins far stronger than me!"
"You may be powerful, but you have to sleep sometime, don't you? I can take you to them. You could end the threat at its source..."
The assassin was still floating in the air when she saw Herman raise a finger to his lips.
"Shh."
His voice was calm and almost tender.
"I already know where they are. Don't I?"
As the words left his mouth, she felt a crushing force clamp down on her throat.
That unseen power bound her tight, suspending her mid-air, instantly cutting off her breath.
Her neck felt as though caught in an iron vise. She couldn't draw air, and even the blood to her brain was being choked off.
Pain tore through her. She wanted to fight back, but her body refused her. The desperate light in her eyes slowly dimmed.
And then—
Her consciousness slipped into eternal darkness.
Herman turned and walked away. Behind him came a heavy crash as her body, limp as mud, slammed to the pavement.
The corpse burst apart, reduced to a mess of blood and flesh.
Those who kill must be ready to be killed. Herman was not the type to waver.
True, he had never so much as killed a chicken before, but that didn't mean he was soft-hearted. Some things had to be done—overcome—to grow stronger.
"And about controlling my expressions... I didn't do well when I met Charles. If I ever face S.H.I.E.L.D., I'll need to keep that in mind."
Herman knew that in this dangerous world, he couldn't just rely on his golden finger. His mindset and his will had to change as well.
Only by strengthening his spirit could he truly stand firm. And right now, he was undergoing that transformation.
"Don't blame me..."
It was his first kill, and the weight of it pressed down on him. But at least, before leaving, he hadn't forgotten the lesson of leaving nothing behind—utterly destroying the body.
With the remains shattered beyond repair, resurrection was impossible.
By the time police arrived on the empty street much later, Herman was long gone.
...
There were already bystanders covering their mouths in shock. Police quickly cordoned off the scene, but the killer had vanished without a trace.
"My God! Someone murdered a woman in broad daylight! And in such a cruel way! Did the killer smash her with a hammer?"
Even the seasoned officers shuddered at the sight, a testament to just how thoroughly Herman had erased the evidence.
Given the brutality of the case...
It wasn't long before the NYPD Commissioner himself arrived at the scene.
"Good Lord! Not since 9/11 has New York seen something this heinous!" He stared at the mangled body in shock.
He was about to order his men to check the surveillance footage when, from the distance, came the blaring howl of sirens.
"Woooo—"
Five or six SUVs came roaring in, their alarms deafening. The doors bore the insignia of the FBI.
"What's going on? Why is the FBI here?" the Commissioner muttered, confused, but instinctively moved to greet them.
By then, a group of men in black suits were already stepping out of the vehicles.
At the head was a man with a relaxed smile, wearing sharp-looking sunglasses.
If Herman had been there, he would have recognized him instantly—S.H.I.E.L.D. senior agent Coulson.
One of the Marvel universe's "newbie village chiefs."
"We're taking over from here." Coulson flashed his credentials—S.H.I.E.L.D. agents often used the cover of other agencies when operating in public.
"May I ask who this woman was?" The police chief couldn't understand why a street homicide would draw in the FBI.
"No comment."
Coulson's reply was curt. With just a look from him, the chief and his officers were promptly escorted out of the scene by the men in black suits.
"What kind of attitude is that..."
The chief left with an ugly expression, but he knew he had no say. If the FBI wanted the case, he had no authority to stop them.
"All surveillance has been completely destroyed. We can't recover anything." An agent quickly reported to Coulson.
"Irreparable?"
Coulson frowned slightly.
"The storage chips were thoroughly damaged. It's almost impossible to restore them." The agent looked helpless. With early-2000s tech, surveillance still relied on local storage.
That meant once the internal memory was destroyed, the footage was gone for good. Herman knew this well—that's why he dared to kill in broad daylight.
He wasn't some reckless brute.
"Take it back and let the research team take a look. For now, all we need is to confirm whether this was caused by supernatural forces."
Coulson's main responsibility was investigating the supernatural.
His presence here was only natural.
With his orders given, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents on site got to work, while Coulson returned to his car and made a call to someone unknown.
...
"This is it."
After leaving the street, Herman didn't return to Stellar Tower. He believed in cutting weeds at the root, so he went straight to the Fraternity's base.
To truly avoid trouble, the source had to be eliminated. He had no intention of being hounded by assassins day after day.
The assassin's earlier warning hadn't been a bluff.
Herman knew she was right.
So.
The only option left was for every last assassin in the Fraternity... to die.