Reiichi Okamoto watched from the ancestral hall, absolute panic gnawing at his heart.
In just a few short seconds, his remaining subordinates were almost completely wiped out.
Naturally, Okamoto did not actually care about the lives of his men. He just knew that once his meat shields were dead, he was next on the chopping block.
Seeing his thugs rushing forward with bare fists just because the enemy was unarmed, Okamoto lost his mind and roared at them.
"Idiots! Are you all brain-dead?! You are out of bullets, so draw your blades! Have you been in America so long you have forgotten how to wield a sword?!"
Spurred by their boss's screaming, the thugs being slaughtered by Tobey finally remembered their roots. They were supposed to be traditional Yakuza warriors, and their true expertise lay in the katana.
They could not beat this monster in bare-handed combat. But with this many men, surely they could hack him to pieces.
If they swarmed him, even a single strike from each blade would reduce him to mincemeat.
The surviving gangsters instantly drew the katana from their waists. Their confidence seemingly restored, they formed a vicious perimeter around Tobey.
"Bringing blades to a fistfight?"
Tobey let out a cold scoff. He showed absolutely no fear, only a deepening sense of contempt.
Since the enemy wanted to break the rules, he no longer needed to play the role of a human punching bag.
Tobey bent his knees slightly and leaped upward.
Under the disbelieving gazes of the remaining syndicate members, Tobey defied the laws of physics. He adhered himself perfectly upside down beneath the thick branches of the century-old cherry blossom tree in the center of the courtyard.
But what came next was even more inhuman.
Hanging upside down, Tobey extended both hands toward the crowd. Thick streams of white webbing shot from his wrists, each strand precisely enveloping the head of a different gang member.
Gripping the web lines tightly, Tobey violently yanked his arms upward.
With a display of terrifying strength, he hoisted the remaining dozen Nihon Syndicate members off the ground simultaneously. They were all left dangling from the branches above.
Thud.
A faint sound of boots touching the ground snapped Okamoto out of his stunned daze.
The towering figure had crossed the threshold of the shrine and was slowly walking toward him. Behind Tobey, over a dozen men hung from the cherry blossom tree, thrashing wildly as the webbing suffocated them.
Okamoto scrambled backward in absolute terror.
But he was already at the very back of the ancestral hall. There was nowhere left to run.
His frantic retreat sent a massive pile of wooden ancestral tablets crashing to the floor. It was as if his ancestors were already making room for their unfilial descendant in the underworld.
But Okamoto was not ready to die. He secretly slipped one hand behind his back while desperately raising the other toward Tobey.
"Wait! Wait! You cannot kill me! I am under the protection of The Hand! If you kill me, The Hand will never let you go!"
"We can make a deal! I can pay you! So much money!!"
Faced with Okamoto's desperate mixture of threats and bribes, Tobey remained completely unmoved. His heavy footsteps did not falter for a single second.
The rhythmic thud of his boots sounded like the ticking clock of the grim reaper.
Tobey closed the distance until he was only seven paces away.
Suddenly, Okamoto's pathetic facade vanished. His expression twisted into a vicious sneer as he whipped a hidden pistol from behind his back, aiming it squarely at Tobey's head and pulling the trigger as fast as he could.
"Die! Die! Die!!"
At twenty feet, a gun is fast. At five feet, a gun is fast and lethal!
This was the ultimate close-quarters technique of the modern era.
Unless this intruder was Superman, Okamoto refused to believe anyone could dodge his point-blank ambush.
Tobey was not Superman, but his superhuman reflexes were just as terrifying.
It was as if he knew exactly when and where Okamoto was going to fire. With just a few microscopic tilts of his head, Tobey perfectly evaded every single bullet aimed at his skull.
"Impossible!"
Okamoto's eyes bulged from their sockets. He could not believe someone had actually dodged a barrage of point-blank gunfire.
Before he could even think to reload, a vice-like grip seized his throat. He was hoisted effortlessly into the air.
Desperate, Okamoto tried to smash the butt of his gun against Tobey's head. But the moment he raised his arm, Tobey's free hand caught his fist, gun and all.
Crunch.
Accompanied by a sickening sound of snapping bone and warping steel, Tobey mercilessly crushed Okamoto's hand and the firearm together into a mangled pulp of metal and flesh.
"Ahhhhh! Bastard! It hurts! How dare you do this to me! I am Reiichi Okamoto of The Hand!"
They say the fingers are directly connected to the heart. Having an entire hand crushed into bloody paste caused such excruciating agony that Okamoto momentarily forgot his fear, screaming curses on pure instinct.
But his screaming was cut abruptly short.
A massive hand smeared with blood clamped down hard over his face, silencing him instantly.
"Mmph sorry, spare me, I'll give you mmph anything..."
Physically gagged by Tobey's grip, Okamoto remembered that his life was still entirely in this monster's hands. The absolute terror returned to his eyes.
He immediately switched back to begging, though his squished cheeks reduced his words to muffled garble.
Hearing Okamoto's pathetic pleas, Tobey chuckled coldly.
"You'll really give me anything? Then lend me your head to use as a chamber pot. I'm sure you won't mind."
"Huh?"
Okamoto was confused. Before his brain could process the words, he felt a sudden tightening around his neck, followed by a strange sensation of weightlessness.
In the next second, he saw his own body collapse onto the floor.
What? Why is my body over there?
And why does it not have a head? Where is my head?
It was a truly mind-boggling experience.
Ten minutes later.
Fisk Tower.
Ding.
The private elevator chimed as it arrived at the penthouse suite of Fisk Tower.
But the doors did not open to reveal Wilson Fisk, the undisputed Kingpin of New York's underworld. Instead, it was Tobey, fresh from slaughtering the entire Nihon Syndicate.
In Tobey's grip was the severed head of Reiichi Okamoto, whose eyes remained frozen in a wide, dead stare. Blood dripping from the stump had already dyed the elevator floor completely crimson.
As Tobey stepped out of the elevator, the trailing spinal cord attached to the severed head dragged across Kingpin's luxurious carpet, leaving a thick, glaring trail of blood.
Despite witnessing a scene that aggressively violated every health and safety code in Fisk Tower, the secretaries and security guards on the top floor did not step in. Instead, they quickly lowered their heads, terrified to even glance at the blood-soaked figure.
It felt as though looking at him for a second too long would cause their own heads to explode.
Tobey ignored the two trembling guards at the entrance. Sweating profusely, they said nothing as Tobey kicked open the heavy doors to Kingpin's office and strode inside.
Two figures occupied the grand office.
Sitting behind the desk was a man in a pristine white suit. Standing well over two meters tall and possessing a frame far too massive to be considered entirely human, this was the Kingpin.
Standing nearby was a man in a black suit, sporting classic blonde hair, blue eyes, and a deeply sinister expression. This was Bullseye.
Watching Tobey walk in with Okamoto's severed head, Kingpin did not look the least bit angry. Instead, a warm, affectionate smile spread across his face as he stood up to greet him.
"Oh, look who has finally come home. It is my best partner, my dearest friend Tobey!"
"But why did you bring the target's head back with you? Did you think your Uncle Fisk would not trust your word?"
Tobey casually tossed Okamoto's head at Kingpin's feet. He gave the massive crime lord a flat look.
"It has nothing to do with whether you trust me. This is simply the professional ethic of an assassin. Wire the money to my black card. I am borrowing your shower."