Bullseye’s Log – Part

Bullseye’s Log—

The Skull’s killers were closing in. Those pieces of trash could not hurt me, but they were seriously interfering with my tracking.

Red Skull knew those trash mobs could not injure me. He must have had his own reasons for abandoning those extermination squads. I knew this day would come, but what he had done still gave me some concerns.

Kraven’s offspring wounded me. I admit that my body was no longer what it used to be. This should never have happened, yet they still hurt me. The neurotoxin they carried would hollow out my body. I could not give up like this. I had not caught up with my prey yet.

In the past, I might have gone to Hydra’s researchers to deal with these wounds and toxins. But those days were gone forever. I had become a thorn in Red Skull’s side, and his hounds were relentlessly pursuing me.

Most importantly, there was still a tracker in my head. That was surely the culprit allowing Red Skull to keep sending people after me. I had to find another way to deal with this ticking bomb.

Fortunately, I knew an old friend who might be able to "help" me.

Claire Temple.

She ran a clinic in Electronic City, specializing in treating mercenaries and gangsters. That had made her a renowned "good person" throughout the area. Her shop was one of the few Safe Houses nearby; no one would dare cause her trouble.

Perhaps in the wasteland, Claire was a good doctor praised by countless mercenaries, but she had another identity. I remembered her. In those wonderful old days, she was called the "Midnight Nurse."

Years ago, I had dealt with her in Hell’s Kitchen. She helped Luke Cage, Iron Fist, Daredevil, and the others for free, treating their wounds so they could continue fighting me the next day. Those were truly wonderful times.

She would not like me. Conveniently, I did not trust her either.

But she was the only one who could help me now. In my line of work, you did not attack doctors for no reason, because no one knew whether they might need their help someday.

It did not take much effort to convince Claire to treat my wounds and neurotoxin. Her skills were truly excellent. I felt that even if I had done it myself, I could not have stitched me up more perfectly than she had.

And hilariously, she actually worried that I would harm Hawkeye. Of course, of course. If I were my former self, I might indeed have sought out Barton for a fateful showdown. But now, better choices were waiting for me.

Still, that gave me some useful information. Barton had not deliberately hidden himself; everything he did was out in the open. And I guessed his file had already been placed on Red Skull’s desk.

That meant that for quite some time to come, Barton would help me bear some of the pressure from Red Skull. I did not care about the grudge between Barton and the Thunderbolts, nor did I care about the conflict between Red Skull and Baron Zemo. None of that had anything to do with me.

But unfortunately, Claire did not specialize in Deathlock chips or mechanical brain reboot surgery. To solve this problem, I might have to put in a great deal of effort.

I was beginning to regret turning myself into a death warrior, but it did not matter. I would treat it as a prelude to the carnival.

Before I reached my target, I encountered Taskmaster. I remembered that this piece of trash should have retired years ago. His joints could no longer let him move as nimbly as before.

Taskmaster could no longer mimic others.

What a joke that never got old!

Taskmaster was nowhere near capable of killing me. Red Skull understood that, so he would definitely have another card to play. And that was exactly what I wanted to see. They would personally deliver my target right to me.

Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes.

Captain America’s best friend, and Red Skull’s most obedient dog.

After the old war, Hydra’s X Division recovered him and froze him again. I had not heard anything about him for a long time. It seemed that, for my sake, the Skull had truly made a heavy bet this time.

With my current body, fighting a cyborg in his prime did not seem particularly wise.

If Bucky truly still retained his own consciousness, I would be quite interested in playing a game with him. But sadly, after a new round of modifications, Bucky, implanted with a new type of Deathlock, could no longer control his own body.

The ones controlling Bucky’s body now were a bunch of trash hiding behind computers.

Dealing with the Winter Soldier did not take much effort.

All right, I had to admit that he was quite tenacious. But fortunately, I had quite a few useful collectibles. Most importantly, this time, I chose the battlefield.

And I was destined not to fail.

I had the trash controlling Bucky help me deal with the Deathlock problem. Now, I had truly slipped into the shadows.

With Barton stirring up trouble outside, Red Skull’s spies would not turn their attention to me for the time being. At last, I could carry out my plan. I hoped those little ones had not exposed themselves.

Finding them again would not be easy, but I was patient.

They acted very cautiously. I had to admire their planning. If I had not dealt with them before, I would have found it hard to believe that, right under Red Skull’s nose, a group of heroes wielding such great power was carrying out an unknown plan.

Another fruitless trip. Where had they gone?

I began to wonder whether there really was something wrong with my head.

The conflict between the Hulk Gang and the Ghost Rider Gang.

Clearly, those trash mounted police had no idea what they were facing.

I was pleased. At last, I had obtained another clue about those young heroes. If not for Red Skull’s interference, perhaps I would already have—

This time, I would not let them get away again!

Count Nefaria, another "old friend."

The Nefaria Mafia would not allow me to examine the Count’s corpse, but that was no trouble for me. The road to tracking heroes was always rough, was it not? I did not mind cutting through the mess with a swift blade.

All the energy in Nefaria’s body had been drained, just like the beast.

Now.

Perhaps I should carefully consider what these heroes were planning. They were clearly not merely preparing to take revenge on the villains of the past. They had a deeper objective.

Watchers’ eyeballs, the immense energy drained from these people.

Their ambitions were certainly not small. The closest possibility I could think of was that they were trying to obtain immense power and use it to cleanse the entire wasteland world anew. Perhaps it went far beyond even that.

I was growing more and more excited!

But for now, I had better catch up to them as quickly as possible.