Marvel: Warhammer Simulator

*Bang!*

Meanwhile, a dull gunshot suddenly echoed, blood splattering everywhere!

However, it was the bald white man screaming, used by Zaire as a human shield!

In an instant, the short gunman seemed stunned by Zaire's sudden ferocity.

He had accidentally wounded his own man.

This sent him into a frenzy:

"He... he can dodge bullets!"

Currently, Zaire couldn't withstand bullets head-on.

But after two enhancements in the simulator, his explosiveness and reaction speed far exceeded normal levels!

Moreover, he wasn't dodging bullets but the spinning gun barrels of his enemies.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

The bald white man screamed, clutching his wounded shoulder as he staggered.

Yet Zaire had already pivoted the moment the gunshot rang out, stomping firmly on the ground!

Like a beast gliding low to the earth, he charged towards the short man who posed the greatest threat in the room!

In the blink of an eye, Zaire was upon him!

The acrid smell of tobacco in quick breaths, bloodshot eyes, and the rotating gun barrel again!

Expressionless, Zaire utilized all his senses, probing every detail about his enemy!

In an instant!

The short man couldn't react before Zaire grabbed his wrist.

Muscles bulged and tendons strained on Zaire's arm!

Crack!

A crisp sound echoed as the short man's wrist, holding the gun, twisted instantly, bones snapping!

Then, before the pain of the fracture could register, crack!

With an icy stare, Zaire kicked at the short man's knee!

"Ugh!"

Instantly, the short man's face first turned red, then pale!

Simultaneously, Zaire snatched the gun from the short man's broken hand, leaving him sprawled on the ground.

Then, Zaire turned swiftly, facing the muscular black man who had already charged at him!

The muscular black man glared fiercely.

"Roar!"

He roared angrily.

His sharp, glinting cleaver swung down towards Zaire's head!

However, Zaire smoothly pivoted his shoulder, evading the cleaver's edge.

Then, he suddenly dropped to the ground.

"A cleaver isn't used like that!"

With a chilling gaze, Zaire raised his gun and fired rapidly.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Instantly, the scorching bullets pierced through the muscular black man's outstretched arm!

"Ah!"

The muscular black man screamed in agony.

His fingers loosened their grip on the cleaver handle, and it fell to the ground!

Zaire's free left hand caught the sharp cleaver mid-air, holding it defensively before him!

Crouching low, he lunged forward.

The cleaver's sharp edge embedded itself effortlessly into the muscular black man's abdomen!

Tch!

After a brief pause, the sound of splattering blood echoed around.

The muscular black man was eviscerated!

Yet Zaire treated it as a mundane task.

Expressionless, he quickly stood up.

Abruptly, he hurled the cleaver towards the direction where the driver cowered in panic.

Instantly.

Gunshots, shouts, the sound of bones snapping.

And the incessant thuds of bodies hitting the ground.

The driver, overwhelmed by terror, felt like he was plunging into an abyss.

Boom!

Seeing the muscular black man's corpse collapse with a thunderous crash.

The driver, dazed, instinctively reached for his gun at his waist.

However, it was too late.

Because a sharp cleaver was hurtling towards him!

Pfft!

The cleaver's sharp blade shattered.

But it embedded deeply between the driver's eyebrows!

"Huh..."

As the driver's rigid body fell.

Zaire slowly exhaled, visibly relaxing.

In less than a minute.

Two enemies dead, two wounded...

And he had only just warmed up!

Zaire took a deep breath of the blood-scented air.

Then, calmly approached the injured man still writhing in agony.

"First question... how did you find me?"

Zaire narrowed his eyes.

But all he received in response were pained moans.

At that moment.

The bald white man, wounded and evidently angered by Zaire's nonchalant tone, struggled on the ground, raising his head.

His eyes glinted with resentment as he glared fiercely at Zaire, teeth gritted:

"It's you! It must be you! You're..."

Bang!

Expressionless, Zaire pulled the trigger.

In an instant, the bald white man's mouth exploded, teeth flying!

"Ugh..."

Blood flooded his windpipe, his eyes rolling back in suffocation.

"Need me to repeat the question?"

Zaire blinked, suddenly turning to the short man on the ground, his gaze sincere.

"No! No need at all!"

Staring at the young man who seemed like a maniacal killer.

The short man, sweating profusely, despite his injuries, shook his head desperately and shouted:

"The list!"

"The Tracksuit Mafia gave us a list!"

"As long as the suspects fit the police profile, we track and analyze according to the list... until we find the one who took out the boss, causing massive losses!"

"And... they offered a price we couldn't refuse!"

"Hmph, not just in terms of money, even the planner behind the whole thing is a genius..."

Zaire squinted, unable to hide his admiration.

His tone, however, was mocking.

Let alone the public relations storm.

Kidnapping hostages everywhere under police pressure will offend so many people, both in legitimate and criminal circles.

They seemed unprepared even for what to do after finding the real culprit.

Even if Zaire wasn't the real culprit.

Wouldn't the hostages resist?

These so-called professionals are far from professional, aren't they?

"We strictly followed the employer's instructions, sorted by age on the list, and you were the youngest of all targets..."

The short man seemed to sense Zaire's thoughts.

Regret and unwillingness flickered in his eyes as he bitterly smiled and said:

"We just wanted to practice with you... get familiar with the process, but we didn't expect..."

"We didn't expect such luck, finding the target right away, right?"

Unmoving, Zaire raised an eyebrow, suddenly asking:

"If you don't want to die... tell me, where is the current headquarters of the Tracksuit Mafia? I might... spare your life."

"In the Hell's Kitchen, in that abandoned Treasure Mall..."

Seeing a glimmer of hope for survival.

The short man's complexion improved, and he cooperated eagerly:

"Because both the New York police and ordinary people are causing trouble for them... to minimize gang losses, their leader gathered key members to defend against any danger..."

"If you cooperate like this, how can I trust that everything you say is true?"

Zaire stared intently at the short man, his eyes flickering.

"And selling out clients isn't a major taboo in your line of work?"

"It's just a failed deal!"

"If I say you might live, I trust you won't spread this everywhere..."

"Maybe we could be partners in some things in the future?"

"I might even become your eyes in the underworld..."

Struggling to raise his upper body, the short man looked at Zaire with great sincerity, saying slowly.

Bang!

Just as the short man thought Zaire's silence indicated a change of heart.

The gunshot rang out suddenly!

A bloody hole appeared abruptly on the short man's forehead!

He moved his lips silently, the light in his eyes fading instantly.

"So talkative."

Zaire gave his final assessment.

Then, he flipped his palm.

The handgun, now almost out of bullets, was completely absorbed, becoming a resource for the simulator.

[Current cooldown time for consumption: Six days and six hours (one hundred fifty hours)]

Zaire glanced at the simulator.

Nine hours remained until the next simulation.

Decisively, Zaire consumed resources to reduce the cooldown.

Ending the simulator's cooldown.

But instead of starting another simulation immediately.

He turned to clean up the traces of the battle in the factory.

After searching the driver's body again and finding another firearm.

However, Zaire chose not to absorb it, but instead stuffed it into his pocket.

Zaire couldn't guarantee whether the dead professionals had told the truth.

But he wasn't going to wait for an opportunity either.

He intended to uproot the entire Tracksuit Mafia!

Cut the grass and pull up the roots!

Since these guys didn't know when to quit and weren't afraid of death.

Then let them become corpses!

So, Zaire needed weapons.

A lot of weapons!

Unfortunately, after searching the entire factory.

He found nothing but an abandoned place.

No hidden armory.

Nor any other useful tools for killing.

Except for a pile of oily mechanic's tools in the corner.

Now, Zaire furrowed his brow slightly, immediately activating the simulator.

He was ready to take his chances.

Hoping the Emperor's blessing would grant him an Imperial firearm.

Even a common Star Realm military laser pistol would vastly outperform current firearms!

[Simulator booting up...]

[Current identities available: Catachan Rookie, Krieg Grenadier.]

[Please select an arrival identity.]

[If refused, random arrival will be chosen.]

[Chosen identity: Krieg Grenadier.]

[Simulator booting up...]

[You have arrived in the Warhammer universe.]

[Time: Unknown]

[Location: Unknown]

[You step onto the planet's surface.]

[You find yourself in a city engulfed in a bloody sacrifice...]

[Before you can grab nearby weapons, a group of cultists in purple robes surrounds you tightly.]

[You attempt to attack bare-handed but are quickly overwhelmed by more cultists pressing in, soon unable to move even a muscle.]

[You're trapped in an unsolvable predicament, attempting to bite your tongue in suicide]

..........

Last chapter was short since I plan to upload 2 chapters today, hope you guys enjoy