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Reincarnated Marvel Gunman

A unlucky bastard gets reincarnated into the marvel universe with a gunfighter system. Will his luck turn for the better in his second life? ----------------- If you have question's or such ill try to answer them when i can! And feel free to point out Engrish (grammar mistakes) if you see it! ^^ Last thing, im trying to improve my irl situation a bit so if you have a spare coin or two, you can support me at https://www.patreon.com/ordinarywriter

NickTheStone · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
46 Chs

Second party

E 18th Street.

A motel on the side of the road graced the 18th Street with its presence. The white paint that covered its wooden facade had faint traces of peeling on it, creating a stark contrast with the neon sign located above its main entrance. Despite the contrast between between modernity of the sign, and the white pain, the building still managed to posses a unique charm, making it stand out from the other buildings in its area.

The U shaped motel, with a small parking lot in between the two guest wings, also possessed a little garden surrounding itself, the greenery creating a stark contrast to the rest of the brick buildings. 

Sadly, as of now there were more than 30 motorcycles parked in the parking lot, making it seem cramped. 

Those who knew what they signified stayed clear of this motel, as they were a sign of one of New Yorks infamous gangs, the Dogs of Hell.

And as for those who didn't know, once they entered they were either all shaken down and thrown outside naked, stripped of their belongings, or they were carried outside in bodybags. 

Right now, two men were carrying packets of drugs to their respective bikes, before both of them returned to a man that was overseeing them. Approaching the man they asked about their job for today. 

The man who asked was called Roach, wearing a purple bandana that hid his blond hair. He honestly looked like a typical delinquent jock who got involved with something he shouldn't have. 

"Yo, Mike, what's the play with todays shipment? Got a cleaner route lined up?" 

"Hell yeah brother. Its cleaner than us, no heat, no eyes. We can move stash easier with this."Mike replied. 

Mike was a slightly obese man with a scruffy beard, both hands covered in tattoos and the insignia of the Dogs of Hell on his sleeveless leather jacket. 

"Perfect, my bro and me are ready. Promise no screw ups this time man. " Roach replied, recalling them getting almost busted by cops last time. 

"No worries, Tank and Mayhem are right now acting as a decoy, so you should roll out whenever you can." 

"Got it, last thing we need is yet another run in with the badges. Once per month is already more than enough." the other man, called Paul, was a skinny man with a hook nose and sunglasses.

"We'll hit the road then, catch you later!" said Roach. 

"Catch ya later." replied Mike. 

As Mike went back inside the motel, Paul and Roach kept chatting about their current mission of carrying goods to a certain dealer. 

"Do you think it'll be fine now? What if we have another run in with the badges?" Roach asked. 

"If we do, we ice em. I dont want to be the one getting iced by the boss, and if they take 5 hours to check our shit cause theyre slow or lazy, again, fuckin ice em." Paul replied. 

Getting on his motorcycle, Roach first checked something on his phone. 

Thock! 

Crack! 

"Yo Paul, did yo-" turning around after hearing an odd sound, he saw something that made him shut up instantly. 

A man wearing a rooster mask held a bloody pipe in his hand, while Paul's body was lying on the floor. Not even 3 meters away from the attacker, Roach was paralysed from fear. 

As the man started walking towards Roach, the setting sun having cast a reddish hue, Roach finally started running from the man. 

Yet within seconds, the man caught up to Roach. 

Reaching out his hand, Jacket grabbed the mans neck from behind, and with one forceful push... 

BANG! 

CRACK! 

His head went to kill the floor, blood and teeth flying out from his head. 

Turning around, Jacket decided to knock on the main entrance of the white motel. 

As he approached the door, he raised his leg, and sent the bits of the door flying. 

"What?! INTR-" The one currently on duty tried to scream a warning. Yet there was no better warning than the sound of a gunshot. 

BANG! 

A head was blown off, and Jacket proceeded deeper into the motel. 

From the room on the right soon two men appeared, guns in hand. Yet the moment they saw Jacket, it was too late, as the hand holding the gun was already pointing at them. 

BANG! BANG! 

Another man tried to jump on him from a room on the left. Turning around, Jacket first swung his metal pipe towards the gangsters arm. 

CRACK! 

"AAAAAH-" 

And with another swing to the head... 

CRACK

Looking at the reception, and at the 2 hallways that led to different corridors, Jacket decided to clean out the right side first. 

As 3 men waited for him behind the corner, a bullet grazed his shoulder. 

Running back behind the wall, he stood in the main hallway, then deciding to enter a room on the left, the opposite side. 

Looking at the room, he started shooting the Desert Eagle at the wall opposite of entrance. 

The wood splinters flying everywhere, a convenient hole was shot into the wall by him, large enough for him to pass through. 

Arriving in the left hallway, he was greeted by another three crooks. Yet it seemed that he was possessed by the devil. 

BANG BANG! 

RATATA... 

BANG! 

His perfect aim took two lives with one clean shot each. The last man had opened fire, the rifle bullet going past his head, yet he shot back fearlessly. With the last mans head being turned into mush, He finished this group. 

Stepping out of the room fully, he started heading to the farthest room in this wing. 

Occasionally, lone stragglers would attack him from the rooms on the sides, yet without even turning around, he would dispatch them with a shot from the Desert Eagle. 

Starting from here, he broke down every single door in that hallway. The few men he found hiding without their guns he shot on the spot, bringing his current kill count to 15.

Suddenly, he heard the rush of footsteps from the outside as he finished the last room in that wing. 

Running forward, he jumped out of the apartments window, and saw something that would scare any normal person enter the room he has been in. 

Gangster after gangster flooding the room. 

Sliding accross the ground, as the first gangster spotted him, he aimed both his hands towards the window. 

In one, a Desert Eagle. 

In another, there was...Nothing! 

Yet that changed in an instant as there was suddenly a Colt Anaconda inside of that hand. 

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG... 

As he started raining lead, cutting down gangster after gangster, he fired 6 shots from each gun. 

BANG BANG! 

Suddenly, his Revolver was stowed in his holster while the Desert Eagle fired two more shots. In the time it fired two shots, the Anaconda was back in hand helping unleash a bigger rain of bullets. 

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

After 3 seconds and more than 25 shots fired in total, there wasn't even a wall there, just a massive hole was shot, straight into to the wooden facade of the motel. The dead bodies all had been mutilated due to the gunfire, some missing entire limbs or heads. 

Proceeding back to the motel, he started looking around in the other wing as well. 

Not having found any Dogs on the first floor, he headed to the second floor. 

As he stepped on the second floor, he noticed there was one open room, as if to invite him into a dangerous trap. 

Thinking up to that point, he started firing at the rooms walls and door without any hesitation. 

BANG BANG BANG BANG! 

"AAAAH!" 

BANG BANG BANG BANG! 

"MOTHERFUCKER, YOURE DE-"

Having unleashed another barrage of bullets like that, Jacket walked into the room carefully, ready for another ambush. 

Seeing nobody jump out and ambush him, he started heading towards the table in the middle of the room. 

From underneath, a man with a white suit jumped out,trying to take a shot at Jacket with his engraved m1911. 

BANG! 

Yet he only got a hole in his head. 

Leaving the room with yet another weapon on his body, he inspected the other rooms, and not finding any more gangsters, decided to leave the motel as the cops would arrive soon.