The skull-tattooed giant finished his warm-up, rolling his massive wrists with a crack that echoed in the tense silence. He fixed Jason with a challenging stare, his voice low and taunting. "Alright, hotshot. Let's say I don't just survive—I beat you. What's in it for me?"
Jason's lips curled into a predatory grin, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. "You take me down? You get the whole damn show. The Joker Organization's yours to run. I'll kneel at your feet, call you boss, and do whatever the hell you want."
The giant's eyes widened, a spark of greed igniting. "You said it, not me!"
In a flash, he crouched low, his tree-trunk thighs flexing as he launched himself at Jason like a runaway freight train. The fifteen-meter gap between them vanished in an instant. With a guttural roar, the giant swung his massive right fist, aiming to smash Jason's face into oblivion.
Jason planted his feet wide, knees slightly bent, anchoring himself like a goddamn mountain. His left fist, the only one he'd promised to use, shot forward, meeting the giant's punch head-on. The collision rang out like a sledgehammer on steel, a bone-rattling thud that made the onlookers flinch.
Pain exploded through the giant's knuckles, a searing, bone-crunching agony that twisted his face into a grimace. He bit down hard, refusing to scream, but his body betrayed him, stumbling back several steps from the sheer force of the impact. Jason, meanwhile, didn't budge an inch. The ground beneath his feet cracked, a faint spiderweb of fractures spreading in the dirt, but he stood like a statue, unshaken.
Rubbing his slightly aching fist, Jason nodded, his tone almost approving. "Not bad. I only used half my strength, but you've got some serious power. Almost Kingpin-level."
Almost, He thought, mentally sizing the giant up. Raw strength was all the guy had going for him—impressive, sure, but nowhere near enough.
The giant, clutching his throbbing hand, stared at Jason in disbelief. He'd been so sure of his power, especially after watching Jason's brutal fight with Kingpin that rainy night. He'd sized up his opponent, figured he could at least match him blow for blow. But now? His fist was screaming, trembling from the impact, while Jason stood there smirking like nothing had happened. Had Jason been holding back during the Kingpin fight? It was the only explanation that made sense. No way someone's strength could skyrocket in just a few weeks.
Despair crept into the giant's heart. His greatest asset—his monstrous strength—was a fucking joke compared to Jason. This fight was already over, and he knew it.
His mind raced, searching for a way out, but Jason was done playing. With a bored sigh, he took a slow step forward, his voice deceptively calm. "You got your shot. I owe you one. Fair's fair."
Before the giant could react, Jason moved—faster than a blink, a blur of lethal intent. One moment he was standing still; the next, his fist was inches from the giant's face, growing larger, unstoppable. The punch landed with a sickening crack, bones shattering like glass. The giant's face caved in, flesh and bone collapsing into a bloody, pulpy mess. He didn't even have time to scream before the force sent him crashing to the ground, lifeless, a fist-shaped crater permanently etched into his skull.
Jason lowered his arm, blood and tissue dripping from his knuckles. He turned, his icy gaze sweeping over the trembling prisoners. "Does anyone else have a problem with the organization's benefits package?"
The crowd shrank back, their bravado evaporating. They exchanged nervous glances, silently praying someone else would take the fall. Their eyes settled on a scrawny, wiry guy in the back, his frame dwarfed by the others but his face set with desperate determination.
Sensing the weight of their expectations, the little guy stepped forward, his voice shaky but defiant. "Me! I'm not done!"
Jason sized him up, his sneer dripping with contempt. "Another one? You idiots never learn."
He strolled toward the man, each step deliberate, exuding a casual menace that made the air feel heavier. The little guy swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously as the distance between them shrank.
Just a few meters apart, the scrawny man made his move. With a frantic jerk, he yanked two high-explosive grenades from his pockets, his face twisting into a manic grin. "I know I can't beat you in a fight," He hissed, "But I can take you with me!"
Jason stopped, his brow furrowing as he studied the trembling man clutching the grenades. "Seriously?"
The little guy's voice rose, bordering on hysteria. "Let us go, or we all die together!"
Jason sighed, glancing at John with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "These guys don't watch TV, do they?"
John's lips twitched, almost a smile. "Only two sets on the ranch—one in the villa's living room, one in Robert's bedroom."
Jason let out a low chuckle, the pieces clicking into place. No wonder these morons were so bold—they hadn't seen the news, hadn't witnessed the full extent of his power splashed across every channel. Asymmetrical information was a hell of a thing.
He took another step toward the man, his voice mocking. "You're shaking like a leaf. I can smell the fear on you. No way you've got the balls to pull those pins."
Standing over the smaller man, Jason loomed, his disdain palpable. The guy's face flushed with shame and rage, his voice cracking as he screamed, "I'm not afraid! If I'm going down, you're coming with me!" With a trembling thumb, he flicked the safety pins free. The grenades now live in his hands.
"Shit!" One prisoner yelled.
"Run!" Another screamed, the crowd scattering like roaches as panic erupted.
The scrawny man, his eyes wild with madness, lunged at Jason, ready to embrace death and take his enemy with him. But Jason was faster. His knee shot up, slamming into the man's gut with brutal precision. The guy doubled over, a choked scream escaping as his body curled like a shrimp.
In a blur, Jason snatched the grenades from his hands, gripping them tightly. The man looked up, clutching his stomach, his face a mask of confusion and terror. Jason just smiled, calm and chilling.
BOOM!
The grenades detonated, but the explosion never reached the crowd. A translucent, spherical energy field materialized around Jason's hands, containing the blast's fire and force within a shimmering orb. The flames roiled inside, pressing against the barrier, but not a spark escaped. Within seconds, the orb shrank, compressing the explosion's energy until it vanished completely, leaving only scorched fragments of metal in Jason's palms.
He tossed the debris to the ground with a casual flick, his eyes locked on the scrawny man, who stood frozen, mouth agape. The crowd was equally stunned, their minds struggling to process what they'd just seen.
Jason's smile widened, a predator toying with its prey. He raised his right hand, channeling the grenades' explosive energy into a single, glowing point at his fingertip. With a gentle tap, he pressed it against the man's forehead. A crimson dot appeared, pulsing with heat.
The man's eyes widened, his mouth opening in a silent scream. His skin began to glow red, then white-hot, his organs visible through translucent flesh. A wisp of black smoke curled upward, and his body disintegrated from head to toe, collapsing into a pile of fine, ashen powder that scattered in the breeze.
Jason's crew—Christine, David, Harley, John—watched with a mix of awe and exhilaration. The stronger Jason became, the brighter their own futures burned. The rebellious prisoners, however, were broken, their faces pale, their souls seemingly sucked dry by the display of raw power.
Jason swept his gaze over them, his interest waning. "I'm done playing," He said, his voice flat and final. "Kill them all."
The words were barely out of his mouth when his crew sprang into action. Christine's pistol cracked, David's rifle roared, Harley's shotgun boomed with gleeful chaos, and John's Glocks sang a deadly duet. The air filled with screams and gunfire, the rebels dropping like flies.
Jason brushed the blood and ash from his hands, the agonized cries fading into background noise. Without a backward glance, he strode into the villa, the weight of his authority unchallenged, his empire unshaken.
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You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
500 power stones.
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