Chapter 63: Kill Them All - Part 2

Smoke rose from the gun’s muzzle.

It came from Nightcap’s custom-made pistol, one with an unusual design unlikely to be found on the general market.

…My eyes immediately turned to the one who had been shot.

Blood was pouring from the officer’s hand. The finger that had been on the trigger had been blown off—bone was even visible.

The pistol he’d been holding had rolled to the ground, its barrel shattered. The grip was stained with blood.

…Did he shoot the gun out of his hand?

I understood what happened, but I couldn’t accept it. If I hadn’t gone through what I have, I probably wouldn’t have realized just how abnormal this was.

But now, after receiving firearms training from S.H.I.E.L.D., I could see it clearly.

The precision and the speed—both were unnatural.

The officer had drawn his weapon and aimed, and in response, Nightcap did the same… and fired faster.

And he’d done it without a shred of hesitation, without fear of missing—and in fact, he’d hit dead-on.

As I stood dumbfounded, a voice spoke from behind me.

“…Guess I’m no Hawkeye.”

Was it just a mutter to himself? Or maybe modesty?

There was no pride in his voice. If anything, he made it sound like there were people who could do even better.

…A professional killer, huh?

Only now, finally, did Harry’s words start to make sense.

“Ugh…”

The officer clutched his hand and collapsed.

…Right. Of course.

I’d been so captivated by the skill just displayed, but I’d forgotten—the officer’s finger had been blown off along with the gun.

The area past the second joint was gone. I could see the raw cross-section.

The finger on the trigger must’ve been taken off with the shot.

That had to hurt like hell.

“Are—Are you okay?!”

Harry rushed to the officer’s side in a panic. He pulled a first-aid kit from the pouch at his waist and began treatment.

He pulled out a special artificial skin pad and a small injector for pain relief—equipment made with cutting-edge tech not available to the public.

As he worked, Nightcap finally spoke.

“…Harry, don’t waste your supplies. That kind of wound won’t kill him.”

His cold statement shocked me—but I also understood the logic behind it.

…We were about to face off against Cassidy, who had fused with a symbiote.

The extent of his power was unknown. We needed to conserve our strength.

…And Cassidy wasn’t the only symbiote out there.

One of Riot’s allies was lying collapsed at the edge of my vision.

If we encountered it, a fight would be inevitable.

Given all that, using up medical supplies and first-aid gear now… would be a mistake.

But still—

“‘Waste’? He’s a civilian. I can’t just abandon someone who got caught up in this.”

I agreed with Harry completely.

…That officer was just an innocent man who happened to get caught up in this mess caused by the symbiotes.

He’d gotten hurt because of it—of course we’d want to help him.

“A police officer isn’t a civilian. This is his job.”

“But—”

“And besides… if you point a weapon, you have to be prepared to be shot. Losing just a finger is getting off easy.”

“That’s not the point… How can you be so heartless?”

“I should be asking you… How can you be so kind to strangers?”

“Then—! Why did you save me that time—?”

The tension between them was rising fast. I hurried to intervene.

“Stop! Both of you, calm down!”

I stepped between Nightcap and Harry, stopping them both.

…Okay, maybe Nightcap still scared me a little.

But I couldn’t let that paralyze me.

I turned to face Nightcap.

“You… you saved me back there, didn’t you?”

“I needed you to find Cassidy.”

Blunt, no-nonsense reasoning—but I nodded anyway.

“Still… thank you.”

The fact remains—he did save me.

Even if I’d been shot, my Gwenom regeneration would’ve healed it quickly.

“…Hmph.”

He turned his face away… and for just a moment, I glimpsed the image of a sulky kid who didn’t know how to be honest.

I felt just a little less afraid of him.

While Nightcap and I were talking, Harry had finished treating the officer.

Under the influence of the painkillers, the officer was drifting in and out of consciousness. Harry gently laid him under the overhang of a nearby apartment building.

…Nearby, there was the body of a decapitated officer.

And the burnt-out black patrol car probably had another corpse inside.

I felt myself starting to freeze.

It was the first time I’d seen a dead body.

Even after joining S.H.I.E.L.D.—even during the incident I got dragged into during that summer trip—there hadn’t been any corpses.

I’d seen people bleeding, injured… but a dead body was something else entirely.

…I remembered Michelle, her face pale after being shot in the stomach.

I slapped my cheeks.

There was no time to be scared.

A sense of duty burned through my heart and limbs—I had to do something.

I was scared. But I wasn’t going to let fear control me anymore.

“Alright… so, what now?”

I turned to Nightcap and asked.

In this situation, he was the one best suited to make a clear-headed decision.

…Besides, I still didn’t know the full details of this incident.

The Foundation, the symbiotes—there were too many things I didn’t understand.

He was the one who understood the current situation better than anyone.

“…Perfect. We’ll use this vehicle.”

Nightcap tapped a finger against the window of the police car.

“A patrol car…? Are you stealing it?”

“…What are you talking about? Isn’t it a bit late for that? You’re saying that to the guy who just shot a cop’s finger off?”

“Ah—yeah, fair point.”

Now that he mentioned it, he definitely had a point.

Nightcap searched the body of the headless officer and pulled out the keys. He unlocked the car.

“You can drive? We can’t.”

“I hold more licenses than you can count on both hands.”

More than ten… multiple licenses?

That’s gotta be fake—was what I almost said. The words caught in my throat but didn’t come out.

Harry returned, having laid the wounded officer at the apartment entrance.

“Ah, Harry.”

“…I called an ambulance. In all this chaos, it might take a while, but… he should be out of danger, at least.”

“I see…”

Relieved, I nodded.

“…What are you standing around for? Get in.”

Nightcap loaded the unconscious Riot host into the back seat of the patrol car.

I hurried to get into the back as well—

“You’re riding shotgun. I need you to guide us to the symbiote’s location.”

—he said, so I climbed into the front passenger seat.

Harry sat in the back, next to the unconscious host of Riot.

…Yeah, that sounded awful.

The front seat was the better choice.

Nightcap took the driver’s seat.

…Now that I saw him up close, I realized he was a bit short.

About the same height as me… maybe even shorter. It was a little surprising.

Nightcap activated the police vehicle’s built-in communication system.

Police radio chatter came through.

…Apparently, several officers had gone off the grid all over the place.

He rummaged through the dashboard and handed me a piece of paper.

A map of New York City.

“Report symbiote locations as they come up.”

“Uh, sorry… I can’t read maps.”

I didn’t even know which direction I was facing right now, or exactly where we were.

If it were somewhere nearby, I could maybe figure it out, but… I’d always relied on map apps on my phone. That habit had come back to bite me.

…Nightcap looked at me, clearly exasperated.

“…Then just tell me the general direction. Start with the closest one. That’s fine, right?”

“Yeah… uh, let’s see, that way?”

I pointed in the direction I had sensed using Gwenom’s abilities.

“I see.”

Nightcap started the engine and pulled the patrol car into motion.

The tires splashed through puddles formed by the rain.

I glanced at his profile from the driver’s seat. The black mask hid his expression completely, like the face of an emotionless mannequin—I couldn’t guess what he was thinking.

“…There’s something I want to ask.”

“What is it?”

"What are you going to do once you find Cassidy?"

He had called himself a killer.

In that case… he’d probably—

“…Rather, what do you want to do?”

“Me?”

Caught off guard by the question thrown back at me, I found myself at a loss for words.

But—I already knew the answer.

I opened my mouth to speak.

“Neutralize him, capture him… and hand him over to the police.”

“…I see.”

Nightcap paused for a moment, as if considering something.

“Then I’ll respect that. We’ll just capture him. No killing… is that acceptable?”

“Ah… yeah. That’s fine.”

Relieved by his unexpected answer, I let out a quiet sigh… and glanced at the rearview mirror.

Harry didn’t look convinced.

…He seemed to have taken Nightcap’s words at face value.

But maybe I shouldn’t trust this man—this Nightcap—so easily either?

Still… why is it?

…Why doesn’t he feel like a bad person?

If he were a con artist, he’d be a master at it.

Am I just being fooled?

Is he really the kind of villain Harry described—someone who doesn’t value human life at all?

With those thoughts churning in my mind, I shifted my focus back to sensing the presence of the symbiote.

---

"That took longer than expected, Eddie."

We looked down at the two humans lying at our feet.

They were the hosts of the symbiotes known as Agony and Phage—artificial symbiotes created from Venom.

I remembered seeing them back when I had infiltrated the Life Foundation, before I bonded with Venom.

Now, I couldn’t even make out their faces. Their bodies were limp... and everything from the neck up was gone.

Venom had eaten them.

"Still, they were weaklings."

The rain-thinned blood, bright red, flowed through the sewers of New York.

"Yeah, I mean... definitely not as tough as they looked."

"The bond between them was weak. The hosts were holding the symbiotes back with their restraint."

"Uh, meaning?"

"The hosts didn’t trust the symbiotes. And the symbiotes, without understanding their hosts’ intent, just lashed out. No coordination... unfit for coexistence."

"Huh...?"

In other words, they didn’t have the same kind of mutual understanding that Venom and I had.

Their hosts probably didn’t approve of surrendering control to the symbiotes, like I do.

Venom looked down at the trembling Agony and Phage, now without their hosts.

"Brats who don’t even understand the pecking order..."

"So... what now? You gonna eat them?"

I asked Venom, and he snorted dismissively.

"They were originally a part of me... Would you eat your own booger?"

"...No, I wouldn’t. And seriously, disgusting analogy."

"Either way, I don’t care. Ask that guy, our 'ally'."

"Ah, right... Hey!"

I called out to the person we’d just met—someone I knew by face. Not a friend, but an ally for now. We’d agreed to work together because our goals aligned: taking down the symbiotes from the Foundation and stopping Kasady. He had powers that gave him an edge in fights against symbiotes.

The man, who had been standing at the edge of the rooftop, noticed and walked over.

He glanced at the corpses briefly, then looked away. His mask covered any expression.

"What is it? You called me?"

"These symbiotes—do you have any orders about what to do with them?"

"Hah. Doesn't matter."

His reply was as indifferent as Venom’s.

"Our boss only told me to wreck whatever the Foundation is planning... that’s it. Whether we kill these symbiotes, capture them, whatever—it’s all irrelevant."

He spoke lazily, the eye lenses on his mask glowing yellow.

"You sure like leaving things to others."

"I’m just a guy doing a job and getting paid. Unlike you freaks who kill for fun."

He spat the words and turned away from me.

"Eddie, this guy's really pissing me off. Should we just eat him?"

"H-Hey! Don’t."

I whispered urgently, trying to calm Venom’s dangerous suggestion as I watched the retreating back of our armored 'ally'.

...We needed his help. Or more accurately, turning him into an enemy would be risky.

We symbiotes are weak against sound. Or in other words—vibrations in the air.

And he had the ability and tech to manipulate that. An absolute natural enemy.

Even if we could win, we wouldn’t walk away unscathed.

Venom kicked Agony and Phage toward the sewer entrance. Their forms were carried away by the rain.

...Without hosts, symbiotes can’t survive for long.

Even if we didn’t kill them outright, they’d die soon enough.

"Herman! Let’s move to the next location!"

"I told you, my name’s Shocker! Get it right!"

"Who cares what you’re called! Or would you prefer 'Little Hermie'? You whiny child!"

"Huh!? Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you ran off before! I oughta beat the crap out of you right now!"

"We did not run away!"

"You totally ran! Because of you, I got dragged into that mess!"

"Hey, calm down, you two."

"Shut up, you!"

Venom and Herman Schultz—Shocker—kept bickering, and my attempt to mediate only made it worse.

I held my head in frustration as their shouting echoed around me.

Was this really the team that was supposed to stop Kasady?

---

Blood splattered everywhere.

It was like throwing red paint across a blank canvas—an exhilarating rush filled my chest.

"Nice. This is the best."

Carnage hacked apart the body after devouring the man’s head and hurled the remains against the wall.

He painted the church’s mural-covered walls in red.

"If there is a God, then I guess I’m gonna be punished."

"I don’t really understand this human religion stuff... But you don’t believe in God, do you, Kasady?"

"I don’t believe in God. What I do believe in is this."

I sneered at the bloodstained religious paintings.

"Chaos, randomness, and confusion. Order, reason, rules—what a joke. This is how people are meant to be."

"Kukuku... You're broken. Abnormal."

"'Abnormal'? Society always wants to cut off the minority and label it 'abnormal.' But I’m not some kind of freak."

I dragged a bloody line across the floor with the soles of my shoes.

"Then tell me, Kasady... what are you?"

"I’m an Avenger—if this world wants to cast me aside like I’m some anomaly, then I’ll reject the world. I’ll paint over its so-called morals in blood."

"...You really are entertaining."

"Thanks. Enjoy the comedy show... You too."

I turned around and looked at the man slumped against the wall.

His stomach had been torn open, and blood was pouring out. His face was swollen and bruised, blue with trauma.

Ahh... Who could’ve done something so terrible?

...Carnage and I, of course.

"You... monsters..."

He glared up at me, barely hanging onto life.

The man in the blue raincoat—a cop from the NYPD. His name was—

"So I count as a monster too? I'm touched, Patrick. Thanks."

Patrick Mulligan.

A colleague of George Stacy—the one who arrested me.

Can’t remember which of them outranked the other... but what does a dead man’s rank matter?

"...Damn... you..."

The corpses littered around me were also NYPD officers.

Fools who cornered me... only to be slaughtered in return.

"How’s it feel, Patrick? Really soaking in your own powerlessness?"

"...I won’t let you... have your way."

"And what exactly do you think you can do? You can’t stop me."

Patrick coughed up blood.

His internal organs had been torn apart—death was creeping up fast.

"Even if it’s not me... someone... will stop you eventually. Evil... will fall."

"Such boring logic—no, a fantasy."

Carnage formed a spear from his back.

I laughed mockingly at Patrick.

"You just want to believe that the world is getting better... that it turns for the good guys, huh?"

"Even... if that’s true... it doesn’t mean monsters like you... get to do whatever you want... This world isn’t that far go—"

The spear snapped off and fired like a needle.

It pierced Patrick's body, and he collapsed, lifeless.

"Audience members shouldn’t interrupt the comedy."

"...Ed... Edward..."

Blood frothed from his lips... and then he closed his eyes for good.

He was dead.

I felt the life slip away from him.

Normally, that would’ve been a deeply satisfying moment—but this time, it left a bitter taste.

"Edward? Was that a family member’s name?"

I narrowed my eyes, a flicker of irritation creeping in.

…Love for family is a delusion.

Clinging to something like that in the end—that’s the act of a fool.

Neither Carnage nor I believe in such things.

Outside the window, the rain poured down.

As if to wash away all the spilled blood.

Night deepened over New York.

Only the sound of rain echoed through the church.