Walking through the streets of New York, James smiled as he recalled the contract he had signed with Victor.
It was not legally binding, it was in fact much worse-
"My Lord, to use a Geis of such nature… I believe that the individual known as Victor von Doom does not deserve such-"
Behind James, a dark shadow emerged from the ground forming a humanoid figure. It took it less than a second to take on a true humanoid form with perfect features.
With a face that exudes grace and elegance, the person who appeared behind James was a tall young man bearing a fair complexion. He wore a butler's uniform with the classic tail coat, his hair tied neatly as he gave a graceful servant's bow.
Despite speaking against his Lord's decision, he did not back down and instead carried a confidence that would not be seen from normal men.
"Black, believe me, that man Victor von Doom… give him an inch and he'll take the world, that is his motto, that is his nature~"
James' reply caused the butler called black to raise his face, his expression showing a deep sense of confusion.
His pitch black eyes that looked like the abyss had, at this moment, shone with a reflection of doubt.
"Black, Victor von Doom is an individual who either dies too early as a nobody or lives long enough to reach heights no one could imagine. He's a very, very, VERY volatile factor~"
Hearing James sing praises for the young man who looks no different from everyone else, Black realized his Lord's intentions.
"As you will"
With that, Black turned to liquid darkness, seeping into the shadows once more but not before passing onto James a single gem.
Crushing the gem, James' eyes flashed with an azure light. His expression turned bright as he started to whisper to himself-
"The distribution of manpower is acceptable… oh? It seems SHIELD is not as incompetent as I thought it would be- or is it HYDRA?- Hmm? I see quite an interesting setting we have~ Oh?! Interesting~ I was planning on looking for some fateful souls to "play" with and now I have quite an interesting candidate~"
The expression on James' face did not waver, instead it shone even brighter. Despite the azure glow in his eyes disappearing, the air around him did not look any darker, in fact it seemed to glow with a pleasant light.
"Let's see, displacement… ah, found the anchor~ Touko… you really should have listened to me back then~"
As James talked to himself, a white magic circle had materialized below his feet. As it glowed, James' body turned transparent and with a flash of white light, James' and even the magic circle had vanished.
Hell's Kitchen, a chaotic area in the great city of New York.
Many people knew of the Statue of Liberty, the grand Times Square and many other famous landmarks.
Even the not so clean spots of New York were familiar to tourists, the mix of beauty and disgrace in NYC was not something unfamiliar to many.
But Hell's Kitchen is a different beast altogether, its an area that even Law enforcement did not wish to acknowledge.
The place was a haven for crime, a land of blood and terror in the center of bright lights and prosperity. Whether it was day or night, gunshots could be heard continuously echoing in the empty streets.
Few dared walk the streets and even fewer dared to own a car even if they could afford it.
Though, those that did own any luxuries were people that none would dare to approach, much less harm.
Hell's Kitchen, the center for all crime in New York, the haven of mobsters, gangs and triads.
Yet, in this area that should have been the feeding grounds of evil, an interesting sight was unfolding.
Dressed in a pure black bodysuit underneath straps that carried guns and ammunition all hidden underneath a large trench coat. A man built like Arnold Schwarzenegger was in a heated firefight with a large group of men dressed in suits.
They all had on the classic fedora and had the aura that screamed "I'm a Mafioso!".
These men carried high powered rifles, military grade weapons inaccessible to even law enforcement.
With this kind of firepower, it was understandable why even New York City's law enforcement dare not enter Hell's Kitchen and "take care" of these criminals.
Against a group of criminals who had access to such weapons, who knows what kind of firepower they had hidden in their bases?
In fact, a firefight as crazy as the one occurring right now was rare. Usually it would just be a few thugs shooting at each other with handguns, stabbing each other with knives, it could even be a simple brawl.
A firefight that involved rifles only occured during wars between rival groups and yet-
Facing this group of mafioso armed to the teeth with excessive firepower was a single man.
He did not falter in the face of walls upon walls of lead firing at his position. Hell, he even took the chance to shoot back!
The most amazing part about this whole firefight was not the amount of firepower being used but the results of ever exchange.
A single man carrying dozens of weapons and rounds of ammunition had single handedly taken out 4 out of 26 mafioso. All of those killed were shot straight through the head and yet the man was still without injuries.
Moreover, the man, despite being heavily armed, did not look like he was wearing any protective equipment. It was an interesting note that few would just dismiss as stupidity, some may even claim that it was a matter of weight, protection would only weigh him down and reduce the amount of bullets he could carry.
But those with keen eyes could see that the man's expression was not that of a man who was doing careful thought out mission.
James observed all of this from the shadows, he gazed at the face of the man facing the world and with a single glance understood his actions.
"Francis "Frank" Castle, a skilled US Marine, two days ago his family was killed after being witnesses to a gang war… despite the many onlookers and video evidence, neither the courts nor the police did anything to resolve the matter"
Recalling the information he had gotten from Black, James smiled as he watched a future anti-hero… no maybe an anti-hero in the making pave his legend.
The tale of Frank Castle was not ordinary but at the same time it was something that was bound to end in tragedy.
Unfortunately, James was unaware of the tale of "The Punisher", he was more of an anime fan and was nothing more than a casual marvel enjoyer.
Yet, despite not being a Marvel Nerd, he was aware of some rather- interesting clips and scenes.
It was a scene that made people feel a mix of emotions-
This should not make me laugh but I'm rolling on the floor-
In his original world, James could only use the meme online, laugh by himself in the dark, fearful of the repercussions of showing joy at such a perfect performance.
Now though, James could openly laugh! After all, might means right and he had long forgotten what others would call normal.
"A magus' actions, thoughts and magic are all connected, their origin's dictate their actions. Some are cursed by their nature, others are blessed and some… obtained freedom"
James muttered the lesson he was taught by an old man who loved playing with jewels and reflections. His lessons were difficult but they allowed James to accept his true self.
When he was reincarnated into the Nasuverse, James was not given freedom. He was born with countless blessings but these blessings were also curses that locked him away from reality.
A certain white haired playboy explained his situation as, "born in the wrong era", while his relatives labeled him the most "Perfect Failure".
In that situation, James found solace in his lessons and training, given to him by the old jewel man- maybe out of pity.
But who would have thought, the small act of pity had allowed James to obtain freedom and with that freedom he had become an existence that many… feared.
His nature was something he had accepted long before he got his freedom and upon obtaining it he made full use of his strength and knowledge to cause chaos.
"I wonder what Waver is doing right now~"
Recalling the face of the long haired man, James couldn't help but smirk.
"Ah~ Where do I find myself another bottom~"
As he was recalling his past, James lost track of the firefight before him. He only snapped back when he heard the pained groan of the man known as "The Punisher".
Frank Castle, the future Punisher had used all his money, all his savings to prepare for this night.
The memory of his family haunted him, he launched a one man war against the people who caused him sorrow.
He charged the cursed streets of Hell's Kitchen with no hope of returning, his mind was set-
'It's me or them'
Frank wanted vengeance, he wanted to see the people who took everything from him to die, miserably and filled with sorrow.
Whether he could achieve that or not was not something he thought about though. In fact, if he died trying then he would be satisfied.
After all, what else did he have?
What else was there in the world for Frank?
Nothing-
He had nothing, everything was lost and now he was nothing more than a dead man walking.
Initially he thought he'd be able to cause some destruction to the base of those bastards but his actions were already discovered long before he even arrived at Hell's Kitchen.
Fortunately, this was not the first time he was experiencing an ambush. Moreover, the people he was facing against were nothing more than a bunch of city boys with guns. All they knew to do was pull the trigger, pray and hope they decimate everything before them.
This worked against most people, after all, even a baby could kill a special forces operative with a gun.
But the question was whether they could hit him or not.
The art of modern combat was not about firepower, gone are the days of human wave tactics where people charged at guns praying they did not get hit.
The accuracy of modern firearms were such that even a poorly aimed shot could hit a target prepared to dodge.
And that is where training and experience comes to play.
Frank had taken a perfect defensive position, an empty apartment building with reinforced concrete walls.
Its windows were all broken and the lights were long shattered. The apartment was the perfect place for him to hold off a large group of idiots shooting mindlessly.
He used the noise of gunfire to move silently in the darkness of the apartment, taking a position away from the focus of the idiots shooting wildly.
When he got into position and fired, one bullet, one life.
After taking his shot, he quickly ducked and moved, again, like headless flies, the idiots all continued to hold down their trigger as they swung their guns towards the place which Frank was.
With that strategy, Frank simply moved about taking shots that always killed.
His tactics, as simple as they were, caused fear in the mafioso who quickly pulled out the big guns, three M2 browning machine guns.
Frank did not get scared, instead he got even more excited as he then aimed at those that were using the M2's.
Unfortunately, even God would make mistakes, Frank was neither God nor his son.
One bullet missed and the man who almost died panicked and turned the barrel towards the direction of the bullet.
Frank reacted quickly but-
*Crash*
The M2 is a powerful gun, its bullets could pierce through armor much less battered concrete.
Despite acting fast, Frank was still caught by a single lucky shot. His leg was grazed by one 50 cal, yet, that graze took out a good portion of his legs flesh.
Fortunately it was just a graze, if he were shot directly then he would have already started bleeding to death.
Unfortunately getting shot in the leg meant that Frank could not continue with his shoot and move strategy.
This did not go unnoticed though as the mafia members were quick to realize that the retaliatory shots stopped.
They did not know what happened but a few brave bastards started to mock Frank. Some even went as far as to talk about how they would have "treated" his wife if they weren't in a rush that day.
Despite all this though, Frank used the pain in his legs to suppress the anger that was consuming his mind as he looked at the explosives that he had carried with him.
Silently, Frank crawled towards the belt of grenades, his eyes showing a look of determination as he used his anger as fuel to move.
A blood trail formed on the floor as Frank moved slowly in order to avoid revealing his position. The jeers and laughter were used by the man to identify the location of his targets. He sharpened his senses in order to know if anyone was trying to enter the apartment.
As Frank inched towards the grenades, a sudden whisper caused him to freeze-
"Are you satisfied with this?"
Frank froze, he did not know where it was coming from but he knew that someone was whispering to him- no, someone was right beside him-
Turning his head, Frank was made to see an image that will forever be imprinted on his mind.
Beside him, on the floor covered in lead and debris lay a young man.
His clothes are reminiscent of Sherlock Holmes style detective films, his white hair had an ethereal glow to it as an azure light emanated from his blue eyes.
This young man, completely out of place, lay there casually and his actions were just as… free.
The young man faced the ceiling but he slowly, without a care in the world, turned his gaze towards Frank before he asked.
"Tell me Frank, are you satisfied going out like this?"
Hearing his words, a certain feeling arose within Frank, he wanted to say something but he held back, he turned back to his grenades attempting to resume his actions but the young man did seem to bother with his response as he continued to talk.
"Your family killed-"
"No one care-"
"Everyone turned a blind eye-"
"Yet-"
"When you made a move-"
"You failed-"
"Died-"
"Satisfied?"
Each phrase he uttered was incomplete, but each word hit Frank deep in his psyche. But he stood strong, expecting more words Frank was prepared but-
"..."
"..."
".."
Seconds passed but silence reigned, Frank had stopped crawling with the final word that was uttered by the man yet his gaze was still fixed on the grenades.
But now-
Frank turned to the man only to see him lying on his stomach, his face staring straight at him with a bright smile. Then… the young man's mouth opened-
"Do you want true vengeance?"
At that moment, Frank felt as if he was sucked into an abyss, he felt as if he was offered salvation-
"Yes-"
Quickly, the young man extended his hand towards Frank and by pure instinct, the seasoned military veteran grabbed the outstretched hand.
"Welcome to the team Frank~! Now then, Uuup we go!"
As their hands connected, the young man explained with joy as he suddenly stood up pulling Frank with him.
At that moment, fear appeared in the eyes of the man who was prepared to die but-
"..."
Not a single shot was fired and-
"They were silenced long ago~"
The young man spoke as he pointed casually outside the broken window.
Following his finger, Frank saw the scene outside and his mind blanked out.
All the mobsters were tied to crosses, their mouths sewn shut with what appeared to be barbed wire. Looking closer, Frank realized that the "ropes" tying their limbs were also- barbed wire.
The mobsters all had different reactions but the expression on their faces showed fear, horror and pleading.
Frank was frozen, he did not know what to make of the situation-
At that moment, the young man beside him spoke to him-
"Speak, one word is all it takes"
Frank looked at the young man, the kind and warm expression on his face did not match his words or the situation.
Now-
What should he do?
Frank stared at the young man for a few seconds but at that moment his mouth moved-
"Die"
Frank did not understand why he said it but he felt compelled to and as he finished uttering that one word-
"No no no no no no, please please please please!"
"ARGHAAAHHH!"
"SAV-"
"NOO-"
"HEL-"
The sound of flesh ripping apart, the mournful cries and plea's-
Frank did not need to look to know what had happened, he only stared at the young man with white hair. His smile and bright atmosphere never faltered.