Kill Stryker

"Not dead, but our 'Terminator' needs to wait for his skeleton to cool down."

Ron looked at the skeleton on the ground.

The temperature on the Adamantium skeleton was too high; flesh and blood couldn't regenerate yet.

Once the temperature dropped, No. 11 would restore his body. Like Wolverine, his healing factor had fused with the Adamantium skeleton—as long as the skeleton remained, he couldn't die.

Bending down to touch the skeleton, which was scorching hot at over a thousand degrees, Ron absorbed the heat from the chest upward.

Before long, the cooled skeleton visibly regenerated flesh and blood, restoring half his body.

But No. 11 had suffered severe trauma and remained unconscious, not yet waking.

"A bit disgusting."

Raven frowned slightly. Though she had healing abilities, she'd never seen a scene like this—first pink muscle and nerves, then organs and skin...

"Emma, your turn."

His expression calm, he stood up and gave the order.

Last time, the White Queen had tried to use her ability to create illusions against No. 11, but it hadn't worked.

Back then, No. 11 was remotely controlled by a computer through implanted neural devices—he wasn't a person, but a biological weapon. Now, all the junk inside his body was gone.

The White Queen crouched down, pressed her hand to his head, and sifted through his memories.

In the underground secret lab.

"Hurry, destroy any data you can't take with you."

Stryker urged urgently, leaving behind those final words. Surrounded by a few subordinates and a fully armed special forces squad, he carried large and small cases, trying to leave early.

Chi. The door opened.

Three figures stood outside—one man, two women.

"Where are you going, Stryker?"

Ron's gaze was like looking at a rat trapped in a dark hole, his expression flat.

Raven and Emma stood on either side of him, their faces frosty.

"The mutants send their regards."

Raven's voice was cold, sounding less like a greeting and more like a declaration of death.

Having seen the data and photos of Stryker's inhumane experiments on mutants—many of them underage children—she was filled with murderous intent toward him.

"How did you find this place so fast?"

Stryker's eyes widened, his expression shifting sharply at the sight of Ron.

His ominous premonition had come true, and it had arrived so quickly that he wasn't even given a chance to escape.

"A man about to die doesn't need to know that much."

The White Queen sneered. After extracting the lab's location from No. 11's mind, she passed it to Ron.

Ron used psychic teleportation to bring them directly here.

What use was an answer to a dead man?

"Quick, Fred, kill them."

Stryker barked the order urgently.

Beside him, a burly man nearly two meters tall with bulging muscles lunged forward like a brown bear, carrying immense force and a whistling wind.

Fred, a member of Stryker's X-Force, possessed superhuman strength and defense capable of easily withstanding tank shells.

"You're blocking the view."

Bang!

A massive shadow loomed down, but Ron's expression didn't change.

Raising his hand, a controlled energy ray blasted from his palm. The huge, sturdy body flew backward even faster than it had charged, smashing several special forces soldiers into pulp. It didn't stop, crashing through multiple walls, a gaping hole in its chest revealing the organs inside, barely alive.

"Open fire!"

Beside him, Agent Zero—another member of X-Force—drew two pistols from his waist and, along with the terrified special forces, fired while retreating.

Bullets shot from the muzzles, trailing flames.

They tried to lay down suppressive fire to cover Stryker's escape.

Unfortunately, Ron and the other two were nothing like fragile mutants—none of them could be hurt by bullets.

"Is that supposed to tickle me?"

Activating her survival adaptation ability, Raven's body grew black, scale-like stone armor that deflected the bullets. A look of disdain on her face, she moved like an elegant leopard, leaping into the crowd, claws swinging in a slaughter, ripping open bellies and chests.

Emma, transformed into her diamond form, charged forward coldly and fiercely. Her diamond-hard fists, combined with clean, sharp combat techniques, easily shattered the hard bones of her enemies.

Amid screams and wails, Ron walked slowly toward Stryker, hands clasped behind his back.

"Got any other tricks?"

"Monsters—every last one of you monsters deserves to die!"

Cornered, a vicious glint in his eyes, Stryker pulled out a custom pistol and, under the crushing pressure of death, fired wildly.

Ear-splitting gunshots rang out; the magazine was emptied in two or three seconds.

One silver bullet after another struck his body, lost their momentum, and clattered to the floor with a distinctive ring.

"Adamantium bullets?"

He glanced at the bullets at his feet.

"Not as good as that knife."

Compared to the kinetic force behind a thin blade's slash, absorbing the energy of these rounded bullets was far simpler.

Adamantium rounds could pierce other Adamantium, but they were useless against him.

"Why did God create you monsters?!"

With his last trump card spent, Stryker stumbled back, knocking over a lab table, and roared in bitter despair.

"My wife Marcy died at the hands of you monsters—killed by her own beloved son."

"You freaks with your special powers shouldn't exist!"

"Don't act like some tragic, sympathetic villain with a sob story."

Hearing his accusations, Ron gave a disdainful smirk.

"Projecting your hatred and obsession with your own son onto an entire race—you're just a lunatic with a broken mind."

He raised his hand, and a blinding crimson light flared.

Hum!

Stryker's eyes shot wide in terror as his right leg was blown apart. He let out a bloodcurdling scream and collapsed to the floor, agony searing through his skull, nearly knocking him unconscious. Pale-faced, blood gushing, he couldn't even speak from the pain.

"Kill... kill me—if you've got the guts, kill me!"

"What's with you? Did you think I'd let you go? I'm already killing you."

He raised an eyebrow at the unnecessary demand.

"But first, I'm going to make you taste the same suffering you inflicted on your test subjects before you die."

"Ahhh!..."

Blast after blast of energy shattered Stryker's limbs one by one. He lay on the ground, screaming without pause.

"Almost forgot about that mouth."

Annoyed by the noise, Ron casually fired another energy shot at Stryker's mouth, turning it into a bloody mess. All his teeth were knocked out. He couldn't even curse before death; his body convulsed in pain, only able to let out muffled groans.

After this brutal torment, Stryker's eyes, fixed on Ron, were filled with nothing but terror.

He lay on the cold floor, blood draining fast, and soon stopped twitching.

The X-Men villain Stryker, who should have lived for decades more and tormented countless mutants, met his end here.

"When you strapped those underage kids onto your lab tables, you should have seen this day coming."

Raven, who had easily dealt with the rest of the special forces squad and Agent Zero, walked up with Emma. She snorted coldly at the corpse.

Agent Zero's perfect marksmanship was a joke against someone immune to bullets—Raven had torn his throat open without mercy.

"Raven, that big guy's ability is pretty good. He's about to die."

Ron gestured for Raven to copy Fred's power, which he had deliberately spared from a direct kill.

"Copying his ability will give you an extra layer of security."

"Thank you, Ron."

Moved by his concern for her safety, Raven went over, copied the ability, and came back. She stepped forward and kissed him passionately.

Amidst the scattered bodies and vivid blood, the couple kissed as if it were ordinary, their love blending together as though they stood on a sunlit field of blooming flowers—a strangely beautiful sight.

"There are plenty of lab staff hiding inside. Send people to take over the experiments and results here, then kill them."

After a long moment, they parted lips, and Ron turned to give Emma the order.

"Ron... they were conducting experiments and research on us mutants."

"Are we really going to continue?"

Catching his meaning, Emma hesitated and asked.