Marvel: Warhammer Simulator

Brooklyn is home to countless bars and nightclubs.

But there is only one that stands out above the rest: Blueberry Nightclub.

Here, you will find students looking for a night out and city professionals unwinding after work.

Wealthy white men seeking flings and various people selling pleasure all gather here.

Whatever you desire, you can find it and satisfy it at Blueberry Nightclub.

Of course, these services come at a cost, and often a steep one.

As midnight approached, a drunken Sergey stumbled out the nightclub's back door, staggering into a dimly lit alley.

This escape route was reserved for regular patrons, typically used to avoid enemies or the police.

Sergey had just become a basic member of the club, barely qualifying to use it.

The manager had only agreed because of Sergey's cousin, but Sergey didn't mind. In fact, he was quite pleased.

Tonight, he had achieved something on his own, helping his cousin fulfill a wish and earning a generous reward in the process.

"I, Sergey, the rising star of New York City's gang scene!"

"Hehehe..."

Full of confidence, Sergey couldn't help but giggle, recalling the smooth sensation he had just experienced.

The women in Blueberry Nightclub were stunning, both in looks and figure!

Unfortunately, the beauties were forbidden from exchanging contact information with clients.

They weren't allowed to leave the nightclub unless they were privately invited by higher-level members.

So, Sergey planned to contact a familiar technician to see if he could continue his exploits tonight.

However, in his drunken haze, Sergey failed to notice the figure emerging from the shadows behind him.

A terrifying figure, with a red headscarf and a face painted in black and green camouflage, was silently approaching!

It was Zaire, who had been waiting for this moment!

Silently, Zaire gave Sergey no chance to resist.

With a powerful step, Zaire closed the distance in an instant, his bulging veins emphasizing his strength as he wrapped an arm around Sergey's neck!

"Ugh—"

Sergey, taken by surprise, couldn't make a sound.

He flailed his arms, trying to escape Zaire's grip, but it was futile.

In just a few seconds, Sergey's eyes rolled back as he began to lose consciousness, his body going limp as he neared asphyxiation.

Zaire relaxed his arm slightly to prevent Sergey from dying in the alley.

This was not the right place or time... Sergey still had information to provide!

Then, Zaire swiftly hoisted Sergey's heavy body and vanished into the depths of the empty alley.

This location was too close to the nightclub and unsuitable for an interrogation.

Zaire had already scouted a perfect spot for a 'heart-to-heart.'

—

Bang—

Sergey's body hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, kicking up a cloud of dust.

This was an abandoned property, far from the streets, with the nearest neighbors over 200 meters away.

Zaire could do whatever he needed without concern.

Perhaps due to Zaire's rough handling, the unconscious Sergey began to wake up.

"Ah—"

He let out a groan of pain, attempting to roll over.

But Zaire stepped on his messy blond hair, pinning his head to the ground.

"Sergey Petrov?"

Zaire asked knowingly.

Groggy, Sergey hadn't fully grasped his situation.

He struggled to get up, shouting angrily:

"Do you know who I am? Do you know who my cousin is?"

Zaire responded with a cold laugh.

He lifted his other booted foot and brought it down hard!

Crack!

With a crisp sound, one of Sergey's arms snapped like a dry twig!

"Ah—"

Sergey's scream was cut short as Zaire pressed his foot into Sergey's mouth, muffling him.

At this moment, Sergey, veins bulging in his neck, writhed like a dying fish, his thin clothes soaked in sweat.

After a while, as the struggles weakened, Zaire asked again, his eyes cold:

"I'll ask once: Who came up with the idea to rob the 'Delicious' restaurant?"

As Zaire moved his foot off Sergey's mouth, the now haggard Sergey, no longer defiant, mumbled through bloodied lips:

"It was me... I suggested it first."

"Why? The restaurant's cash wouldn't be that much. You could have gotten more from the grocery store next door. Was it because the restaurant had no risk?"

Zaire asked, his face expressionless.

Sergey hesitated before quickly deciding to spill everything, driven by the pain from his broken arm.

"I'll tell! I'll tell everything!"

"We didn't rob just for money; it was for the thrill, the rush of committing a crime!"

"My cousin is a small-time leader in the Tracksuit Gang... He said the underworld's rules have changed! A month ago, a new king unified all the gangs on the East Coast!"

"Every criminal organization must follow his orders. No independent crimes are allowed. Each gang can only profit from the criminal activities assigned by the underworld king!"

"Bank robbers can only rob banks, drug dealers can only sell drugs, and if a gang wants to change its business, they must pay a huge crime fee to the king..."

"Damn it! If we can't commit crimes as we please, why join a gang at all? It's a joke!"

"But no one dares to defy the king's orders now. No one thinks it's a joke..."

"Hundreds of lives have forged the new rules, the new order!"

Sergey swallowed hard, his voice trembling as he continued:

"So, I just wanted to give my cousin a break, help him relieve some stress, and complete my initiation into the Tracksuit Gang... After all, my cousin has always looked out for me. Joining his gang isn't so bad, right?"

"Where is your cousin now?"

Zaire asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Today's Saturday, so it's finance day for the gang..."

Sergey, lying defeated on the ground, had given up struggling.

"I overheard my cousin's call once. Near the Brooklyn Bridge, by the East River, there's a place called Warehouse 10. That's the Tracksuit Gang's secret hideout..."

"If you're looking for him, he's probably there."

Having gotten the address from Sergey, Zaire nodded in satisfaction.

He took a step back and bent down.

"Sergey?"

"Hmm?"

Sergey, clinging to a sliver of hope, lifted his head instinctively.

Squelch—

A massive, pitch-black military knife plunged into Sergey's eye socket!

The razor-sharp blade, slick with white fluid, pierced through the back of his blond head!

"Thanks for your cooperation."

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