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(REPOSTED IN ANOTHER ACCOUNT)

Imagine dying and then waking up in the body of a thug in the Marvel universe. Sounds wild, right? Well, that's just the beginning of my story. One moment I was dying on the sidewalk, and the next, I'm in some rundown apartment, looking at two duffle bags, one filled money, the other with drugs. It's not long before I realize I'm smack in the middle of a city where almost everyone wants me dead. Every corner I turn, there's someone with a grudge, a gun, or both trying to take me out. Just when I'm starting to get the hang of dodging danger and figuring out how to survive in this new world, things get even crazier. I discover I can travel into yet another world—a game-like realm that's somehow connected to my new reality. It's like stepping into a video game where the rules are different, and the stakes are just as high.

Wicked132 · อะนิเมะ&มังงะ
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
32 Chs

Hostage Situation #23

I sat on a stool, staring at the tied-up thugs with a thoughtful expression. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the distant sounds of the police shouting through megaphones. They were demanding that I come out with my hands in the air, but I ignored them, lost in my thoughts. The situation was spiraling out of control, and I needed a plan that wouldn't end in a bloodbath.

The door creaked open, and Carlo walked in, his face etched with worry. "The situation outside looks bad," he said, his voice low. "What should we do next?"

I sighed and stood up, rubbing my temples. "We need to talk to the police," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Come on, follow me."

I took a few steps towards the exit, but when I turned back, I realized Carlo wasn't following. His confused expression stopped me in my tracks.

Another sigh escaped my lips as I walked back to him, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "I need you to act as my hostage," I said bluntly.

Carlo's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "Why the hell do I need to be a hostage?" he demanded. "You've got all those Manfredi goons all tied up and ready! Use one of them!"

"I know," I said, my tone firm. "I might not be able to dig myself out of this mess. We need to make it seem like I forced you to give me the warehouse. It's not far from the truth."

Carlo's jaw clenched, and he looked away, clearly torn. "And what if Manfredi doesn't buy it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hopefully he does. If not, then maybe you can get into a witness protection program or something," I replied. "But right now, this is our best shot... you got a wife to get back to, remember?"

He hesitated for a moment, the conflict evident in his eyes. Finally, he gave me a resigned nod. "Alright," he said. "I'll do as you say."

...

A sleek black car pulled up to the police blockade, the tires crunching against the gravel as it came to a stop. The door opened, and a Latina woman stepped out, her leather jacket glistening under the dim streetlights. Strands of pink highlighted the front of her jet-black hair, contrasting sharply with her otherwise casual attire. She walked confidently towards the yellow police tape, her boots clicking against the pavement.

A young officer moved to intercept her. She remained silent, her expression impassive as she pulled out her badge and flashed it at him. He quickly nodded and stepped back, allowing her to duck under the tape and proceed. She approached a senior officer standing next to a patrolman who was shouting into a megaphone.

"What do we have here?" she asked, her voice steady and authoritative.

The senior officer turned to her, his face lighting up with recognition. "Officer Vasquez," he greeted her with a nod. "We've got a real mess on our hands. Looks like a skirmish, likely a gang war. But they're using some serious firepower." He gestured towards the warehouse driveway, where several burnt-out cars lay smoldering.

Vasquez frowned, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene. "It looks like they were hit with a ballistic missile," she remarked, her tone incredulous. "What else can you tell me?"

He pointed towards the warehouse, where small shadows could be seen darting back and forth through the shattered windows and doors. "We've got multiple armed suspects inside. Judging by their stature, they're either dwarves or children."

She raised an eyebrow, giving him a disbelieving look. "What kind of joke is this?"

The officer shook his head, his expression grim. "I wish it were a joke, but that's not all." He hesitated, glancing around as if making sure no one else was listening. "The officers who arrived first claimed they saw Vito Morretti rushing into the warehouse."

Vasquez's eyes widened slightly. "Vito Morretti? Are you sure?"

He nodded. "They were pretty adamant about it. Said they recognized him immediately."

She let out a low whistle, shaking her head in disbelief. "This just keeps getting better and better," she muttered. She turned her gaze to the patrolman still screaming in the megaphone. "But if Vito's here then your friend is wasting his time and breath..."

The senior officer arched an eyebrow. "You have a better idea?"

She nodded. "I've had a couple of encounters with him. Let me try talking to him."

She walked over to the patrolman, who was too engrossed in his shouting to notice her approach. Without warning, she yanked the megaphone out of his hand. The patrolman alternated his gaze between her and the senior officer, who merely shrugged. Ignoring them both, Vasquez walked forward, clearing her throat as she prepared to speak.

Before she could say a word, the warehouse door creaked open. Vito emerged, standing at the entrance with a sly grin. He held Carlo in front of him, one arm wrapped tightly around Carlo's neck, the other holding a gun to his head.

The patrolman was gobsmacked at the sight. "She's good..." he muttered, awe-struck.

The senior officer sighed and palmed his forehead.

Vasquez wasted no time, raising the megaphone to her lips. "Vito Morreti, it's been a while."

Vito's grin widened. "It has been, hasn't it?" He tilted his head, as if pondering something. "Should I address you as Detective Vasquez, or should I use your alter ego?"

Vasquez's frown deepened, but before she could respond, Vito continued, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It's on the tip of my tongue... Lady something, wasn't it? Some kind of spider subspecies?"

The detective's expression shifted uncomfortably as the officers behind her began to whisper, wondering what Vito was talking about. She pushed the unease aside and fixed her gaze on Vito. "I don't know what you're talking about, and who I am or what I go by doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm here to talk conditions. State your terms for releasing the hostages."

Vito began to say something but paused, his eyes narrowing as if a new idea had just struck him. "Unfortunately for you, I'm not talking to anyone except for Phil Coulson." He tightened his grip on the pistol, pressing it harder against Carlo's head. "It would be in everyone's best interest if you get him here, especially yours."

The detective winced, understanding the veiled threat about her secret identity. She had no idea how he had figured it out, but she couldn't risk anyone else knowing. "Seeing as I have no idea who you're talking about, I can't comply with that demand..."

Vito's grin widened. "Phil Coulson is pretty high up in the chain of command. Just pass my demand to your superiors, and they'll pass it up until word reaches him."

Vasquez's frown deepened further. "And why would such an important figure concern himself with a simple hostage situation? I want to help you, but you're not making much sense!"

The tension in the air crackled as Vito glanced at her with a sly grin. "Phil Coulson might not find a simple hostage situation worthy of his time," he trailed off as a sudden flash of light drew everyone's attention.

In the blink of an eye, a Pal Sphere materialized in Vito's hand, and before anyone could react, he hurled it forcefully to the ground.

The sphere shattered with a resonant crack, releasing a torrent of blue light that coalesced into a humanoid black cat with bat wings. The creature hovered in mid-air, emitting a loud meow that echoed through the tense silence.

With a flick of its paw, the Tombat conjured a trail of ice spikes that shot towards a nearby wall, forming a shimmering barrier of ice at the end of its path.

The detective and the police officers watched in astonishment as the supernatural creature displayed its abilities. Vito, undaunted by the chaos unfolding, exclaimed, "But this should get his attention!" He punctuated his statement with a sharp whistle that made Carlo wince and mutter a curse under his breath.

As if on cue, the windows of the warehouse burst open, and the Tanzees and Lifmunks emerged from cover, armed to the teeth with assault rifles and light machine guns. They unleashed a barrage of gunfire that sent police officers scrambling for cover, their shots echoing in the urban silence.

Vito, holding Carlo firmly as a human shield, shouted over the din of battle, "Consider this a warning!" He began dragging Carlo back towards the warehouse entrance, his eyes locked on Detective Vasquez with a knowing smirk. "If I don't see Phil Coulson here in the next couple of hours, things will get messy."

With that ominous threat hanging in the air, Vito disappeared into the shadows of the warehouse, the Pals ceasing fire and retreating to their concealed positions. The Tombat let out a hoarse meow that almost sounded like a mocking laugh before gracefully folding its wings like a cape and disappearing inside.

Detective Vasquez took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves amidst the chaos. She exchanged a worried glance with the senior officer, who shook his head in disbelief. "What the hell was that?" he muttered, still reeling from the surreal display of powers.

"Someone get me in touch with Captain Stacy!" Vasquez said firmly, her mind racing in a futile attempt to process what just happened. "Now!"

...

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