"Let's sweep him up. Use him as fertilizer."
Ethan crushed the charred fragment under his shoe until it became fine black ash. The assassin's shrinking ability had saved them trouble; instead of hauling away a full-sized corpse, they were left with something no longer than a finger. Harris fetched a dustpan and carefully brushed the remains into a flowerpot near the window.
Problem eliminated.
"Now," Ethan said calmly, "let's deal with the source."
—
The Brothers Bar was loud, crowded, and thick with cigarette smoke. Grizzly, leader of the Grizzly Gang, sat at the center table surrounded by his men, beer bottle in hand, laughing loudly at some crude joke. The contract he had placed earlier that evening barely lingered in his mind.
The termite assassin had never failed him before.
The man could slip into ears, into places no one wanted to think about, and detonate his victims from the inside out. Efficient. Quiet. Terrifying.
The job should have been simple.
One of his underlings leaned down and whispered something into his ear.
Grizzly froze mid-laugh.
"What did you just say?"
"Harris," the man repeated nervously. "He's here. Drinking in booth three."
Grizzly's eyes narrowed.
Harris knew exactly whose territory this was. Their dispute wasn't subtle. Yet the man had walked in openly and taken a seat.
And if Harris was here—
What happened to the termite?
For the first time, doubt crept into Grizzly's confidence.
"There's another guy with him," the underling added. "Some Asian kid."
Grizzly grunted. He could never distinguish Asian faces well enough to remember if he had seen this one before.
He stood, motioning for several armed men to follow.
They approached the booth.
Harris sat calmly, drink untouched. Beside him, Ethan leaned back, expression relaxed.
Grizzly stopped a few feet away, a cruel smile stretching across his face.
"You've got nerve," he said. "I haven't settled things with you yet, and you stroll into my bar?"
Ethan looked up at him, uninterested.
"You're Grizzly?" he asked. He pointed casually at Harris. "From now on, you listen to him."
Grizzly barked a laugh.
"Who the hell do you think you are, you little—"
Click.
There was a wet crunch.
Ethan had moved without warning. Grizzly's wrist was in his grip. With effortless pressure, he crushed the man's hand until bone splintered and tore through flesh.
Grizzly dropped to his knees, screaming. "My hand! My hand!"
The other gang members reacted instantly, pulling pistols and firing.
The shots rang out—
—and then fell silent.
The bullets flattened against Ethan's body and dropped harmlessly to the floor.
No blood.
No reaction.
The gunmen stared at their weapons in disbelief.
Before anyone could recover, Ethan reached down and snapped Grizzly's neck. The body collapsed beside the shattered hand.
The room went silent.
Ethan turned toward a sharp-faced man standing just behind the fallen leader.
"You're Black Wolf?" he asked evenly. "Second-in-command?"
The man's throat went dry.
"Then you'll listen to him from now on. Yes?"
He glanced at the corpse. The answer had clearly mattered for the previous man.
His breathing quickened.
"No—no problem," he stammered. "We'll cooperate."
Ethan studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"Good. I prefer people who can communicate."
The tension in the room eased slightly.
Black Wolf swallowed hard and signaled the others to lower their guns. The body of the former boss was lifted and carried away without protest.
Fear had prompted the decision—but clarity followed quickly. Aligning with a superhuman of this magnitude was not necessarily a loss. It might even be an opportunity.
After all, you couldn't buy protection like this.
The bar slowly resumed its noise, though softer now.
Before leaving, Black Wolf approached Ethan again, holding a silver briefcase with both hands.
"For you, boss," he said with an ingratiating smile.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"
"Found it on the street," Black Wolf replied smoothly. "Took one look and knew it belonged to you."
He opened it.
Stacks of green U.S. dollars filled the interior.
Ethan's lips curved faintly.
—
Chapter 30 – The Deep Is Reassigned
"After friendly consultation with senior executives at Vought International, The Deep has decided to bring his environmental initiatives to Ohio."
At ten in the morning, Madelyn Stillwell stood behind a podium beneath bright lights, delivering a composed public statement regarding Starlight's accusations.
The Deep had already issued a public apology minutes earlier.
The backlash online had grown impossible to ignore. Hashtags about harassment trended across every platform. Starlight's supporters flooded Vought's official channels with outrage. Phone lines were overwhelmed. The company's website had briefly crashed.
Damage control was no longer optional.
Madelyn's original plan had been simpler—have Starlight retract her remarks from the Faith Expo and frame it as a misunderstanding. But the young heroine had refused.
Sacrificing The Deep, whose popularity was comparatively low, became the strategic choice.
After all, he had initiated the misconduct.
"We wish him the best in his environmental advocacy work," Madelyn concluded smoothly.
She stepped away from the podium and ignored reporters shouting follow-up questions.
Inside the executive lounge, her expression cooled immediately.
Every one of them was becoming a liability.
A public apology meant confirming the misconduct. The Deep's carefully crafted image as a charming "Lord of the Seven Seas" collapsed overnight. Social media accounts were flooded with condemnation. Sponsorship deals wavered.
Within hours, his name had spread across the city as shorthand for disgrace.
In the Seven's private lounge at Vought Tower, The Deep packed his belongings in silence.
The once-exciting headquarters now felt cold.
"Guess it's just me and the ocean," he muttered bitterly.
His removal wasn't permanent—officially—but no timeline had been given for return. Ohio was exile.
The incident had complicated ongoing negotiations with the Department of Defense. Integrating superheroes into federal operations required stability. Scandal did not help.
Reassigning him reduced immediate pressure.
It did not solve the deeper problem.
Because somewhere out there, someone was targeting members of the Seven one by one.
And Vought still didn't know who.
....
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