Hunter in the Shadows
The night sky burned. Explosions roared in the distance, shaking the streets as shadows moved between the flickering flames. Watson exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around Uncle Polk's gift—a sleek black revolver, well-worn but deadly.
Something was coming.
Ding! Unknown armed individuals detected approaching.
Watson's eyes flickered toward the main door, where muffled voices and hurried movements signaled the arrival of trouble.
"Quiet! Mouse, get over there and unlock it! I'll stun him long enough to tie him up."
A sharp voice cut through the tension.
"Once you're done, take their outpost and meet us on our side. Tonight, we take out Scott!"
"Got it, Third Brother! Watch me—this lock'll be open in minutes!"
Mouse, sweating profusely, fumbled with the lock, his trembling hands betraying his supposed confidence.
"Shoot! What's taking so long?"
"I swear, I almost had it, but—" Mouse gulped. "This door—it's stuck!"
"Useless!"
Derrick, crouched near the second-floor railing, smirked as he watched their frustration unfold.
The door was never meant to open. Foam glue had filled every gap, and a thick wooden board was nailed over it, blending it seamlessly into the wall. Unlock that? Not a chance.
Just as Watson prepared to move, a deafening explosion shattered the night.
---
The Battle at the Explosion Site
BOOM!
A fireball erupted in the distance, sending shockwaves through the streets. The gang members outside flinched, their eyes darting toward the source.
The Dark Python Gang's attack had gone horribly wrong.
In the heart of the inferno, a lone figure emerged.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding an aura of raw power, the man's silhouette was unmistakable. Knuckle-dusters gleamed ominously in the firelight, reflecting his devilish smirk.
Scott.
"Scott, you wolf!" Dark Python spat, stepping forward with slow, measured steps. His eyes gleamed with malice, fangs bared in frustration.
Scott chuckled, rolling his shoulders. "Enjoy my 'gift'?"
The gang leader's jaw clenched. "This isn't over yet, Scott!"
Before the words had fully left his lips, a dagger flashed through the air.
Scott moved instinctively, shifting just enough for the blade to miss his head by inches. His smirk deepened.
"Oh, little snake," he murmured. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
A sultry voice answered from the shadows.
"Oh? Really?"
A woman stepped into the firelight, her form clad in a skintight silver suit that shimmered like liquid metal. A matching dagger twirled expertly between her fingers as she brought it to her lips, licking the blade—tasting the blood that had grazed Scott's ear.
Scott's pupils shrank, his body shifting on instinct. This wasn't just a fight anymore.
"This," whispered one of his men, watching from the sidelines, "This is Scott—the one even Dark Python and Silver Snake fear."
Scott exhaled, his voice low and menacing.
"Tonight, no one gets out of here alive."
And then—
He moved.
Like a force of nature, Scott launched himself at Silver Snake, his speed and power almost inhuman.
Silver Snake's eyes widened. She twisted her body at the last second, narrowly avoiding the attack, but Scott was relentless, closing the gap instantly.
Dark Python didn't waste the opening. As Scott lunged for Silver Snake, Python rushed in from behind, his twin daggers glowing with an ominous purple hue.
"You sneaky little snake!" Scott roared, spinning mid-air to deliver a bone-crushing punch.
Dark Python barely dodged, his lips curling into a sinister smirk. "Silver Snake, stop wasting time. Deal with him first. Reinforcements are on their way."
Silver Snake's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Fine. Let's end this."
She and Dark Python moved in perfect sync, their strikes weaving together like a deadly dance.
Scott grinned.
"Oh? Trouble, huh?"
His knuckle-dusters crackled with energy as he lunged again, his overwhelming strength colliding against their precision.
---
The House of Roar
Back at Watson's hideout, Third Brother paced restlessly.
"That explosion—doesn't it seem like it came from the boss's side?" one of his men stammered nervously.
"Nonsense! Of course, it did!" Third Brother snapped. His patience had run out.
He turned to Mouse, who was still struggling with the door.
"Forget it! We're blasting our way in!"
Mouse hesitated as Third Brother motioned to Mark.
"Get to the flower bed and set it up."
Mark nodded, retreating as Third Brother pulled something from his coat—a grenade.
"Once we're in, take the kid down immediately!"
Without hesitation, he yanked the pin and hurled it straight at the electric gate.
BOOM!
The explosion sent a shockwave rippling through the street, smoke and debris clouding the air.
Watson didn't flinch. He watched the chaos unfold, his pulse steady.
His grip tightened around his revolver.
"Alright," he muttered under his breath, eyes glowing with a cold, dangerous light.
"Let's play."
---
The War Has Only Just Begun
As the city burned, a crimson streak sliced through the sky—Iron Man, soaring toward the chaos.
In the darkened alleys, a lone figure in black perched on a rooftop, watching. The Daredevil had sensed the shift in the underworld.
And somewhere in the abyss of space, a silver throne sat within a vast ship, its master drumming clawed fingers against its surface. A monstrous grin split his face.
"The pieces are moving," the being murmured. "Let's see how far this game goes."
Watson had no idea… but he wasn't just fighting the Dark Python Gang anymore.
This was only the beginning.