569

[The Punisher's Revenge]

Knife after knife, the sharp dagger kept piercing Bruno Costa's body, leaving him covered in bruises and blood. He fell to the ground, struggling to climb back up, leaving a trail of blood on the floor.

Frank, holding the dagger and with a backpack of firearms behind him, followed step by step, his voice cold and deliberate: "You killed my family, ruined my life. The law might let you go, but I won't. From the moment you crossed me, your fate was sealed!"

With each word, he struck again, severing Bruno's nose.

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Bruno writhed in agony, screaming.

Frank continued, "You should have pleaded guilty in court. At least then, you could have died with some dignity!"

Faint footsteps approached outside the door, Bruno's men were coming.

Frank swiftly pulled a submachine gun from his backpack and pressed it against Bruno's chest. "Time for your last prayer!"

"Kin... kingpin..." Bruno's voice faltered weakly, but carried a hint of threat.

"kingpin?" Frank scoffed, his voice steely. "After kingpin, and every other gangster and villain out there, I'll spend the rest of my days hunting down scum like you. Dragging you all to Hell is where you belong!"

Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

"Da da da—" Bullets sprayed from the submachine gun, riddling Bruno on the ground until he lay still.

Just then, crashing sounds echoed outside as his men broke in.

After dealing with Bruno, Frank immediately turned and sprayed the approaching gangsters with gunfire, flames erupting from the muzzle.

"Da da da--"

Before the gangsters could breach the door, they were cut down, screams piercing the air.

Frank swiftly escaped through a window, disappearing into the Florida night...

Having avenged his family, the Punisher did not fade away.

True to his word, his crusade against crime continued. Unlike Daredevil, who perches on rooftops and intervenes in crimes, only to let the law handle the rest, Frank took a more direct approach. He gathered intel on criminals and dealt out justice with lethal precision, one headshot at a time!

No gangster targeted by him ever survived.

With his revenge fulfilled, Frank unleashed his wrath on New York's underworld, striking fear into every villain's heart.

Death came swiftly to many gangsters in their homes, bars, and streets across the city, leaving the criminal underworld trembling.

Frank also disrupted criminal operations, like the night he lay in wait near a port warehouse in New York City, ready to strike a major blow.

Frank had inside information on a drug deal about to go down, and he planned to take out every gangster involved.

As the two groups converged for the deal, Frank lay on a nearby rooftop with a sniper rifle, peering through night vision goggles, waiting patiently.

Soon, the gangsters arrived, exchanging goods, oblivious to the danger.

"One for the oven, two for the show..." Frank murmured under his breath, repeating a childhood rhyme. The image of his family flashed before his eyes, fueling his resolve.

With steely focus, Frank squeezed the trigger, each shot echoing Bruno's demise.

"Boom!"

The sniper bullet obliterated the head of a gang leader, blood splattering in the dark night. In the cold darkness, the splatter resembled molten lava, vivid and shocking.

"Enemy attack!"

Panic erupted among the gangsters, who drew their weapons, but couldn't pinpoint Frank in the darkness.

"Boom!"

Another shot rang out, another gang leader fell to the ground, his brains scattered.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Like a trained marksman, Frank picked off the gangsters one by one, his precision unmatched. Each bullet found its mark, sealing the fate of the gang members.

"The Punisher... it's the Punisher!" Fear gripped the remaining gangsters as they realized their assailant was the Punisher, their worst nightmare.

But it was futile. Aware of the Punisher's reputation, they were defenseless, unable to locate their unseen attacker.

With flawless execution, Frank eliminated the gangsters, who scattered in desperation.

This outcome was expected. Lowering his rifle, Frank turned his attention to an oil barrel nearby, the trigger for his explosives.

"Boom!"

A bullet pierced the barrel, igniting the fuel inside and triggering a series of explosions around the warehouse. Flames engulfed the gangsters, none surviving the inferno.

Staring at the raging fire, Frank set down his rifle, lost in thought.

Then, he turned his gaze to a distant landmark, the kingpin's Building.

Despite the darkness, Frank could see it clearly. The kingpin's Building was a prominent structure in New York, adorned with the bold inscription " Fisk Towers." In a city known for its grandiose real estate, only a select few developers could boast such prominent signage.

The Frisk Towers belonged to Kingpin.

After slaying countless gangsters, Frank knew it was time to confront Wilson Fisk, the kingpin of New York's underworld.