"Please, please stop hitting me!"
Wesley, face covered in blood, pleaded with the Mechanic.
A few days ago, a long-legged, busty young woman had found him. She told him he was the son of the world's number one assassin, and that the blood of a peerless killer flowed in his veins.
He wouldn't have believed such a thing, but when he shot the wings off a fly the first time he was in mortal danger, Wesley realized just how awesome he actually was!
Even though he was twenty-five and past the age of being a middle schooler, the sudden realization that he might be a hidden master among ordinary people, plus the fact that his bank account had been credited with over three million dollars, supposedly the entire fortune of his dead boss, Wesley suddenly felt like the world was a beautiful place.
He immediately quit his job, and then, while jumping and bouncing around, used his computer keyboard to give his friend, who had slept with his girlfriend, a mild concussion.
There was nothing he could do. He had money now, and what he wanted was to be arrogant.
"Besides," Wesley thought, "to hell with that ugly woman with no chest, no ass, and a face full of freckles. I'll be sleeping with a sexy, beautiful female assassin soon. Who needs that ugly hag?"
But the life of an assassin wasn't as wonderful as he'd imagined.
Lately, he'd been getting beaten up every morning by a guy called the Mechanic. The Mechanic would beat him until his nose was broken and his head was spinning before stopping.
Then, after he finally woke up, he'd be taken to learn knife skills from someone called the Butcher.
But as far as Wesley was concerned, the so-called knife skill training was just a one-sided beating. He didn't know how many times the Butcher had cut him in the last few days!
Honestly, if it weren't for the Fraternity's special Nutrient Solution, which could quickly stimulate cell division in the body and heal most injuries, he'd probably have been carried off to the crematorium by now.
As for other activities like practicing shooting, jumping off buildings, and climbing walls, they were even more torturous.
Wesley was now filled with regret, wishing he could turn back time. How could he have been so out of his mind to become an assassin?
Does he even know what he's capable of?
Beaten every single day... He felt like he was about to break!
"Damn it!" The Mechanic angrily punched Wesley in the face again, knocking out two of his teeth.
"He still hasn't grasped it?" Sloan walked in like a ghost, looking at Wesley, who had been knocked to the ground, chair and all.
"No, this kid is a blockhead. I think it might be better to just beat him to death!" The Mechanic angrily unwound the bandage on his hand, which was covered in blood from the beatings.
"What about the other lessons?" Sloan's face was as black as coal, he asked Fox.
Of course, since he was black to begin with, everyone could only guess how black he was, because they certainly couldn't tell by looking.
"No progress at all. No matter how I stimulate him, he can't trigger Bullet Time!" Fox shook her head, ashamed of her ability to teach a disciple.
A few days ago, without any systematic training, Wesley could shoot the wings off a fly with a gun. Now, after training, his skills were actually getting worse day by day. It left her speechless.
Wesley had been working hard these past few days. To boost his confidence during training, Fox had even offered up her own thigh. As a result, his fighting spirit was up, but his skills had actually regressed!
"Damn it! Increase the training intensity!" Sloan said, frustrated.
"But he's already at his limit. Increasing the intensity further will kill him," Fox said, looking at Wesley, who was lying on the ground, constantly spitting up blood.
"We don't have time!" Sloan clenched his fists tightly. The Cross had gone crazy these past few days, relentlessly targeting the organization's assassins.
Twelve members had been killed in the past few days. Any Fraternity member who dared to be alone would definitely be killed by the Cross.
All the Fraternity's outer strongholds had been wiped out. They were effectively surrounded by the Cross, all by himself!
"I understand," Fox nodded silently. Although she did have a slight fondness for this little blockhead, Wesley, as a fanatic, Fox was absolutely loyal to the organization. She would kill him, and even herself if necessary.
Sloan shook his head and walked out of the training room. Wesley's training speed was simply too slow while the Cross's attack frequency was too fast. He needed to go to his office and consider whether to send a team of experts to assassinate the Cross.
'The Fraternity has deployed two decoys. Their coordinates are at Newspaper Square on Ninth Street. There are four hunters next to the decoys, and their positions are...'
The Cross looked at the information that had suddenly popped up on his phone and couldn't help but purse his lips.
This message, which had no accompanying number annotation, had suddenly appeared on his phone four days ago.
At first, he thought his whereabouts had been exposed. He immediately threw away his phone, disguised himself, and fled. However, when he finally found a new base and bought a new phone, the same message immediately appeared on his phone screen.
After fleeing three times in a row and finding no results from searching for a tracker, the Cross could only helplessly accept the fact that he was being monitored.
Fortunately, the other party had no strange intentions towards him, but instead sent him all the peripheral information of the Fraternity, as well as detailed information on the members who had been out during this time.
Seeing this information, the Cross's heart, which had been hanging in the air, finally relaxed.
In his opinion, the person on the other end of the phone was likely a high-ranking member of the Continental Hotel!
The Continental Hotel had been trying to unify the underground assassin world for years, but the existence of the Fraternity had always held them back.
Now that they had such a rare opportunity, it would be a waste if the Continental Hotel didn't try to gain some benefits.
Even though the Cross knew he was being used as a pawn by the Continental Hotel, he didn't care at all.
After all, for the fanatic Cross, since the Loom of Fate had marked the names of all the Fraternity members, he should follow the Loom's orders and send those former colleagues to meet their maker!
Whether he was being used or not was completely irrelevant.
After packing his belongings, the Cross began to systematically put on his beloved firearms.
This time, Sloan had sent out four experts second only to him in skill. Without this information, even he wouldn't stand a chance.
But now that he even knew where those colleagues were hiding, there was simply no suspense in this battle!
-----------------------
Completed English PDF of this fan-fic on my Patreon shop if you want to support and own the full fan-fic in one go. Just grab the PDF and binge the entire story from start to finish!
Guys, I've uploaded some High Quality english translated fanfic on my Patreon shop! Feel free to check it out-if you're interested, you can grab a copy and support me there.
Here are a few titles of recently uploaded fanfics:
New Addition
" Superman in American Comics "
" My World: My Daily Life in Marvel "
" The Cute King of the Marvel World "
" Marvel: I Am the Silver Age Superman, Joining Group"
" Lord of Hunyuan in Swallowed Star "
"Marvel: Deadpool Friendship System"
"A Super Player in Marvel "
"Marvel Automatic Humanoid Girl"
"Marvel DC: Become Aquaman from Black Robe"
many more are available 72+
Your support means a lot-thanks in advance, legends!
patreon.com/SuperTL
(End of Chapter)