If the Fraternity members knew that their coming doom had even the slightest connection to that female assassin's so-called "kind" warning to Herman, who knows if they would hunt her down in hell to settle the score.
Finding the Fraternity's hideout wasn't easy, since the female assassin's memories contained nothing about its location. Clearly, she was only a low-ranking member.
After merging into the Marvel Universe, the Fraternity's structure had changed quite a bit—a perfectly natural development. From her memories, Herman also saw places like the Continental Hotel, neutral hubs where assassins could take jobs and exchange intelligence.
In such a complex world, there was no way the Fraternity could run an organization and maintain its authority with just a few dozen killers. Recruiting lower-level operatives was inevitable. She didn't know where the hideout was, but by following her memories to track down several other assassins, and then digging into their recollections, Herman finally found Sloan's hiding place.
As for those assassins? Naturally, Herman sent them off with a reincarnation package.
That's the advantage of Telekinesis. He could kill without getting his hands dirty, leaving his suit as spotless as ever even after taking out several assassins.
After tireless searching, Herman finally pinpointed a textile factory in the suburbs—home base for many Fraternity assassins.
"The Fraternity? Hah."
Herman looked at the factory disguised as an ordinary mill. He sneered.
Tossing aside the corpses of two assassins who had been tailing him, he stepped inside without hesitation.
The moment killers inside noticed the intruder, they pulled out their guns to fire. But with a casual swipe of Herman's hand, they were sent flying as if smashed by a sledgehammer, their bodies slamming brutally into the walls.
Blood splattered across the surfaces. Before they could even react, Herman's telekinesis had crushed them into fresh meat patties.
Gun-slinging tricks, curved bullets—just flashy gimmicks. In Wanted, the Fraternity's assassins might have seemed impressive, but only when measured against ordinary people.
Against a psychic like Herman... even the strongest assassin here, Cross, was nothing more than a powerless mortal.
After all—
With the identity of Hidden Superpowered Being, Herman's evaluation in the All-Seeing Eye had already reached Superhuman.
And before a Superhuman... ordinary people simply didn't stand a chance. It was a difference in the very level of existence.
"Rat-a-tat-tat~"
An assassin rounded the corner, automatic rifle blazing. The storm of bullets poured out, but they all froze in the air, suspended just before Herman.
"Damn it! Mutant!"
The assassin clutching the assault rifle went pale at the sight defying the laws of physics, but he had no time to turn and flee. As Herman turned his gaze toward him, a sharp crack echoed—his neck snapped clean off by Herman's Telekinesis.
With no more attackers in his way, Herman continued his slow advance.
Behind him, the bullets suspended mid-air immediately dropped to the ground. Hundreds of rounds clattered against the floor, producing a crisp, metallic chorus.
This base still housed plenty of assassins, but even those with names and reputations were as fragile as ants before Herman. He had already slain two high-ranking assassins from Wanted: the Butcher and the Repairman.
Then, using his intangible Telekinesis, he crushed a wave of reinforcements. In an instant, the entire textile factory had become a living hell.
Another assassin hurled a grenade toward him. Yet the moment it left his hand, the grenade defied physics, flying back and burrowing straight into his crotch.
With a deafening blast, Herman didn't even need to turn his head to know the would-be grenadier had perished—together with his "little buddy."
Scarlet blood and mangled flesh splattered across the surrounding looms, blurring the line between human remains and machine parts.
Screams, wails, and curses rose and fell throughout the factory, but Herman had no intention of sparing a single assassin who had seen his face.
Indeed, many within the textile mill had been deceived by Sloan, believing themselves to be assassins of destiny, fighting to uphold world peace. Unwittingly, they had become nothing more than blades in Sloan's hands—pitiful in their own way.
However, as assassins, their deaths were far from innocent.
When they abandoned the law, they forfeited the law's protection. Those who play dangerous games must be prepared to face danger.
"Why bother?"
Herman watched a group of assassins still resisting. They raised their automatic rifles and unleashed a torrent of fire, but he simply lifted his hand and tore down a massive section of the ceiling.
Those too slow to escape were instantly buried beneath the rubble. Dust filled the air, but not a single grain drifted toward Herman.
"Someone as powerful as you... we shouldn't have any grudges!" one assassin cried out, still unwilling to die even in his final moments.
Herman tilted his head, thought for a moment, and then spoke softly to the corpse.
"Besides your attempts to kill me, that bowl of water-boiled beef your men knocked over—that counts as our grudge too."
His tone carried a trace of uncertainty.
But then he remembered—some men were willing to wipe out an entire gang over a dog.
So, him storming the Fraternity's lair over a bowl of water-boiled beef... seemed perfectly reasonable?
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
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