Dignified Demise

Russell controlled the force of his right foot, making sure he didn't accidentally crush the Punisher to death.

If he had wanted to kill the Punisher right away, he could have done so when he charged out of the safe passage earlier, instead of toying with him like a villain.

"Stop struggling, you won't have a chance."

Controlled by the symbiote, Russell revealed half of his face and spoke slowly to the Punisher beneath his foot.

Although there was no chance of leaving here alive, the Punisher still wasn't ready to give up.

He drew the only weapon he had left on him, gripping the knife in his right hand and thrusting it fiercely toward Russell's right foot.

However, the moment he raised his hand, several black tendrils surged from Russell's right foot, binding his right hand.

Crack!

The black tendrils, similar to pythons, exerted slight pressure on the Punisher's right hand, and a crisp sound of bones breaking rang out.

With his arm broken, an intense pain spread throughout his body instantly.

Even so, the Punisher clenched his teeth tightly, refusing to let out a cry for mercy.

"Don't worry, your suffering will end soon."

Russell ignored the deadly gaze from the Punisher, allowing a few black tendrils to emerge from his body and bind to the Punisher.

Unlike Sloan, the Punisher didn't possess any extraordinary abilities.

He excelled in various forms of special operations, such as individual and team tactics, mastery of various firearms, as well as skills in combat, marksmanship, underwater operations, interrogation, and intelligence gathering.

From the perspective of an anti-hero, the Punisher wasn't particularly strong.

But from a warrior's point of view, he was an all-around hexagonal soldier.

If he had a chance to inject the Super Soldier Serum like Captain America had, he would have been akin to a darker version of Captain America.

Although the symbiote couldn't completely replicate the Punisher's abilities, especially the knowledge within his mind, that didn't matter.

What Russell currently sought were the combat skills that the Punisher had developed through rigorous Marine Corps training.

Human memory can be divided into two types.

One is declarative memory, containing factual information such as names, times, events, and words.

Declarative memory couldn't be copied by the symbiote, even after a long time of bonding.

This memory had nothing to do with physical skills, merely pure information.

However, the second type of memory, procedural memory, was different.

Procedural memory also resided in the brain, but it manifested directly in bodily instincts.

For example, brushing teeth, washing face, driving, using a computer, shooting, hand-to-hand combat, and more.

The Punisher's brain held a lot of procedural memories, and Russell was only interested in those related to combat.

As for the rest, he didn't need them.

He could replicate the Bullet Curving technique from Sloan because he copied the part of Sloan's procedural memory related to the Bullet Curving technique.

The Punisher didn't know what Russell intended to do to him, but instinctively felt that it wouldn't be something good.

However, he had no power to resist at the moment.

The symbiote rapidly bonded with the Punisher, merging with his body.

With the symbiote's bonding, his injuries visibly repaired at an astonishing rate.

His broken right arm, the bullet-pierced right leg, and the fractured ribs in his chest, all his injuries healed within just one or two seconds.

Not only that, he also felt an immensely potent physical strength he had never experienced before.

The sudden surge in physical power brought him an indescribable sense of pleasure.

When Sloan experienced this surge of pleasure, he was lost in it for over ten seconds before regaining his senses.

The Punisher's reaction was much better than Sloan's.

Within two or three seconds, he had snapped out of that extreme feeling of pleasure.

As he regained his composure, he attempted to resist Russell.

But...

He couldn't even move a single finger.

Though the symbiote-like entity seemed to have merged with him, it remained entirely under Russell's control.

Let alone moving a finger, without Russell's consent, he couldn't even take a breath.

In just two or three minutes, Russell had replicated the combat abilities he wanted.

Although these abilities lacked skills like interrogation, tracking, intelligence analysis, and tactical planning, they were more than sufficient for Russell.

After replicating the combat abilities he needed, Russell looked down at the Punisher.

"Farewell, Mr. Castle!"

Castle was the Punisher's last name; his full name was Frank Castle.

"I'll be waiting for you in hell!"

The Punisher uttered his final words.

After he spoke, Russell manipulated the symbiote within him to stop his heart from beating, giving him a dignified death by cardiac arrest.

'Evil abilities, cruel methods!

I truly am much like a villain!'

Russell thought to himself.

Glancing at the lifeless Punisher, who had gone to report to Mephisto, Russell returned to his regular form and inspected the safehouse.

After destroying all evidence that could lead back to him, like the footage recorded by the mini surveillance cameras, he leisurely left the safehouse.

He had initially considered calling the cleanup crew to handle the Punisher's body, but upon further thought, he decided against it.

A dead Punisher wasn't worth wasting a coin on.

Even if the New York police took his body for autopsy, they would only conclude that he died of cardiac arrest.

Considering this, there was no need to dispose of the Punisher's body.

He had already given him a dignified death.

Back on the first floor, he picked up the bag he had discarded earlier, reloaded the rifle, and left the building with the bag in hand.

Under the gaze of unidentified observers, he returned to his car, started the engine, and drove away.

The Continental Hotel.

After dealing with the Punisher, he went directly back to the hotel and handed the used pistol and rifle to the concierge.

Even if he continued to use these guns in the future, it wouldn't be a big issue.

But sometimes less was more.

Furthermore, with his current income, he could afford to use and discard them as he pleased.

After entrusting the concierge with the guns, he considered whether to return to the agency or head to the hotel's bar for some relaxation. Suddenly, his phone rang.

An unfamiliar number.

"Mr. Traveler, hello. I'm Jack from the Rising Tide organization, the one who contacted you yesterday."

A voice, electronically disguised, came from the other end of the line.

"Just get to the point. What have you found out?"

"Well... we didn't find the source of the anonymous call. Also, they want to meet you."

No source found and a meeting request? What's the connection here?

"Explain yourself."

Russell's tone turned impatient.

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