Killing

Han Lin bared his Claws, radiating an intense killing aura that left the leader opposite him standing in the middle of the field, drenched in sweat.

Han Lin had no intention of waiting for others to attack before retaliating. With one step, he crossed the distance between them and drove a claw through the man's heart.

The gazes of more than a hundred people on the other side were drawn to the Claws protruding from the leader's back, blood glistening drop by drop at their tips.

"Come, let's see just how capable you Hydra people are." As Han Lin spoke, he tore the man's entire heart from his chest. Beads of blood sprayed from the still-beating heart into the air.

The other two leaders snapped out of it and immediately ordered their men to open fire.

Everyone pulled their triggers in an instant. Han Lin flung the unlucky leader away, knocking down a large group of enemies.

Han Lin returned his left hand to normal, swiftly retrieved the tower shield Howard had remade from his arsenal, and charged into the enemy formation with it raised.

Those sent flying by the shield had their breastbones caved in and lay on the ground gasping for their final breaths. Those who were not knocked away met Han Lin's right hand—every sweep of his Claws brought death. The seriously wounded were beheaded or cut in half; the luckier ones merely lost an arm.

Han Lin slaughtered the spies at astonishing speed, showing no mercy whatsoever. He intended to teach Hydra—or rather, Schmidt—a profound lesson.

Since you sent them here, and they attacked my friend after being exposed, then I'll send every last one of them to see God.

The slaughter did not last long. In less than ten minutes, the enemy forces had completely collapsed. Their will to fight had been wiped out by the horrific scene Han Lin had created, and the Hydra spies scattered in every direction.

Watching them flee, Han Lin stopped pursuing them with his Claws. Two M1911s appeared in his hands, muzzle flashes spitting as shell casings bounced across the ground with pleasant clinks and clangs.

After emptying both guns, Han Lin did not change magazines. He put the pistols away, took out two new ones, and continued firing at the fleeing men.

Han Lin had only recently discovered this. As long as he kept his guns fully loaded, he could switch weapons at any time without changing magazines. It made him realize how foolish it had been to keep reloading before. After all, his arsenal had room for plenty of weapons.

The harbor was covered in severed limbs, and the entire ground had been dyed red with blood. Han Lin's clothes were soaked in it as well, thick blood slowly dripping from his black combat suit.

Nearly everyone who had come had been killed by Han Lin at the harbor. Only a few lucky men who jumped into the sea escaped. Since Han Lin could not swim, he chose not to continue the pursuit. The misery of being a landlubber had revealed itself in full.

Han Lin looked at the harbor, now like a Shura battlefield, and left with some disgust.

Han Lin did not like the scent of slaughter. Back on the battlefield, he mostly used Firearms, killing enemies from afar.

Han Lin did not like using Warhammer Form to brutally massacre his enemies. It made him feel inhumane. They were all living people, born human just like him, and Han Lin did not believe he had the right to stand above others.

It was only because they stood on opposing sides that Han Lin had to kill them. They had families and loved ones too; they had merely been incited by that orator Hitler to stand against the world.

Han Lin did not believe he could be called a god. He was flesh and blood, possessed humanity, and hoped to have friends. That was why he constantly reminded himself not to lose himself on the battlefield.

Deep down, Han Lin believed that even those people in Asgard who called themselves gods were merely humans with somewhat greater abilities.

Without their immense power, what difference was there between them and ordinary humans?

That was why Han Lin constantly cautioned and warned himself not to become lost in the power brought by the Blacklight Virus, and not to lose his humanity.

When people gained great power, they often wanted to conquer others. When they held a gun, they robbed the weak. When they possessed artillery, they launched invasions against others. When they commanded a powerful army, they could challenge the world.

They were often dissatisfied with the status quo, hoping to rule the world and attain supreme status. Oppression gave rise to resistance. No one wanted to become a slave or a captive, so voices of rebellion emerged, and the world fell into a stalemate.

If Han Lin completely abandoned himself and became lost in the vortex of power, then all he needed to do was endlessly improve himself: kill, level up, evolve.

Once he raised the skills of his various forms to a new level, Han Lin felt he could crush any army. He would not even need to avoid the damage from Firearms. If he was injured, he could simply grab a soldier and absorb him. If one was not enough, then two. If two were not enough, then three.

Han Lin still had five skill points saved up. If he wanted, he could raise Warhammer Form to level three. At level one, its 100% strength boost had already raised his punching force to 6,000 kilograms.

But if he leveled it up and lost control over his body, then a casual swing of his hand could turn someone into minced meat. A pat on Howard's shoulder could leave that weakling half-paralyzed.

Han Lin neither wanted nor intended to become someone who slaughtered the world. He knew this world was dangerous. Although things had not reached that point yet, the mages of Kamar-Taj claimed to protect Earth from foreign invaders.

But if they discovered that Han Lin, an outsider, was massacring the world, Ancient One would definitely kill him without hesitation. Han Lin did not believe he currently possessed enough strength to fight a mage who had lived for over a thousand years, especially since he was a pure melee fighter with no way to resist magical attacks.

He did not want Ancient One inviting him over for tea. Controlling himself and refusing to fall into darkness, rather than becoming the next A-Bro, was the best choice.

After surviving a nuclear bomb, Alex Mercer had become a being who had subconsciously surpassed humanity. He no longer considered himself human.

"The man at the top of the food chain" was what he called himself. Eating people was something Han Lin could never do, which was why he resisted the feeling of absorbing humans.

He did not want to lose himself because of other people's memories.

Nor did he want to become a monster that knew only slaughter.

In one night, Han Lin swept through the bases of the three major gangs. Every member of their upper ranks died, leaving them with no thought of resistance. Four large safes lay in Han Lin's arsenal.

The next day, all of New York was shocked by three news reports in the newspapers.

One large page had been divided into three sections.

A senator and two major generals in Washington had been taken away by mysterious individuals. Their whereabouts were currently unknown.

New York's mayor had been taken from his home after men in black broke through the window. Only his disfigured mistress remained behind.

A large-scale massacre had occurred at New York Harbor, with more than a hundred dead. The victims were high-ranking members of New York's three major gangs, whose bases had also been looted.

The three reports made the New York Times a huge success, while Han Lin took a newspaper to Howard's hospital.

At the doorway, Han Lin watched Howard and the little nurse feeding each other. He gave the door a couple of mocking knocks, then ignored Howard's murderous glare and walked in, sitting down on the sofa.

Howard could only feel helpless. He could not beat Han Lin, nor could he drive him away, so he could only let the little nurse leave first.

"I spent all night sending those bastards to see God, while you're in here having fun. Should I have you discharged and sent back to your lab?" Han Lin stared at Howard with a dangerous tone.

"No, Lin. I haven't had a proper rest in three years since the war began. I need a chance to relax, and I believe you'll give me one!" Howard said with certainty.

Han Lin shook his head and handed the newspaper to Howard. "I killed all the upper ranks of New York's three major gangs. New York's underworld will be thrown into massive turmoil. I think this might be a good opportunity for you to make a fortune.

"Also, I have most of the cash flow from the three gangs. When you get discharged, convert it into company shares for me."

Howard's eyes widened as he looked at the three headline stories in the newspaper, each one more explosive than the last.

"You did all three of these?" Howard asked uncertainly. He only knew that Han Lin had gone to Washington, not what exactly he had gone there to do.

Han Lin nodded indifferently. "The three in Washington were spies. The mayor was the mastermind behind the attack on you, and those people were the main participants from that day. I'm not sure how many rats are still out there, but those three will tell me."