The leader of the Big Horn Gang was drinking with a few of his inner circle, boasting about their future, when suddenly, a chorus of panic-stricken screams erupted from the front of the bar.
"What the hell is going on out there?" the leader snapped, his face darkening with annoyance.
"Maybe someone's had too much to drink and started a brawl. It happens all the time in bars like this," a subordinate suggested, frowning. "Usually, our guys just beat them senseless and toss them out. But this sounds... different. It's causing a massive panic. Might be a large group our bouncers can't handle alone."
The leader snorted. "Gather the boys. I want to see who's brave enough to start trouble on Big Horn turf."
By the time the leader and his men reached the main hall, they found the floor littered with bartenders and security guards. "What happened?!" he roared.
"Boss, it's this kid!" The bar manager pointed a trembling finger at Basel, who was standing calmly in the center of the hall.
"Just one kid?" The leader looked incredulous. Basel didn't look like a powerhouse. How could one person take down his entire security detail?
Basel had arrived at the bar with a plan. He hadn't transformed immediately; instead, he provoked them like an ordinary troublemaker to lure out the leader. He knew that if he transformed into a Dopant right away, the resulting panic might cause the boss to flee before Basel could identify him. If the leader escaped, Basel's problem wouldn't be solved—it would just be postponed.
"Kid, who sent you?" the leader asked, looming over Basel. "Was it Old Joel from the East side? Or that bastard Stellan from the West? You might have some moves—maybe some Karate or Taekwondo to take down half a dozen men—but you're outnumbered. And hands can't stop bullets. You're insane to come to my headquarters alone. Tell me who hired you, and I might let you walk."
Seeing the man's posturing, Basel realized he had found his target. He smiled. "So, you're the head of the Big Horn Gang?"
The leader nodded proudly. "That's right. I call the shots here."
"Good. I came here specifically for you," Basel said, his voice dropping to an ominous tone. "No one sent me. I came on my own accord."
"And why is that? Looking to join up?" The leader was still riding a wave of self-importance. He figured Basel was putting on a show of strength to negotiate a better position in the gang. After all, who would be stupid enough to raid a gang headquarters alone unless they wanted something?
"I'm here to send you to hell," Basel replied. He pulled out his Gaia Memory.
"VIOLENCE!"
"Monster!" The onlookers screamed as Basel transformed. The crowd surged toward the exit like a tidal wave, desperate to escape the bar.
"What... what are you?" the leader stammered, his face turning pale as he felt the overwhelming pressure radiating from the Dopant.
Basel laughed mockingly. "Weren't you the one who wanted to steal my Gaia Memory? Weren't you planning to hurt my parents? Well, here I am. I saved you the trip."
The leader's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "You're that high school kid?! How do you know about my plan? Who told you?"
While he spoke to stall for time, his hands were behind his back, frantically signaling his men.
"The same thugs who told you I had the Memory," Basel said boastfully. "They fear my power. They told me everything. I guess they know who the truly powerful one is."
Those bastards! the leader cursed internally, his eyes burning with venomous rage. He vowed to skin those informants alive later.
"Open fire!" he screamed.
His men instantly drew their pistols and began unloading on Basel. Seizing the distraction, the leader scrambled backward, trying to get out of the line of fire.
The hail of bullets forced Basel back a few steps, but the "Violence" Dopant took no actual damage.
"He really is invulnerable!" the leader watched with a mix of greedy desire and sheer terror.
Though unhurt, Basel was momentarily pinned down by the concentrated fire. Seeing the leader trying to slip toward the back exit, Basel's rage boiled over. With a primal roar, he swung the massive iron ball attached to his arm by a chain, sending the ring of gunmen flying.
He swatted away a thug charging with a machete as if he were a fly and intercepted the leader at the back door.
"Now, you can die in peace," Basel growled, raising his heavy iron flail.
"Wait! Stop!" the leader shrieked, his voice cracking. "We don't have to do this! Sure, I had some bad ideas, but I didn't actually do anything yet! You and your family are fine! We can partner up. With your power, we can rule New York. Money, power—I'll even make you the boss!"
Basel looked down at him with pure disdain. "Sounds tempting. But I don't trust you. Die. Any last words?"
The leader looked around desperately, pleading with his eyes for someone to intervene. But his men were paralyzed with fear. Seeing the mangled state of their comrades on the floor, they weren't about to challenge an invulnerable monster for a few hundred bucks a month.
Basel swung the heavy flail down. CRASH!
The floor shattered and buckled under the force of the blow. However, the leader had been jerked away at the last second. He sat on the floor, legs shaking so hard he couldn't stand.
Basel turned his head, furious at the unexpected guest who had interfered.
Peter, who had been tailing Basel, couldn't stand by and watch his friend become a murderer. Using his newly invented web-shooters, he had fired a line of webbing at the last possible millisecond, pulling the gang leader out of the way of the lethal blow.
"You can't just kill people, Basel!" Peter said, his voice steady and serious.