Bullseye’s Special Operation

Outside Hammerfall City, at Bewildering Blossoms Nightclub.

Eyeball Man’s nightclub had received a special guest today.

Dark clouds obscured the full moon, and the stars vanished from the sky. Amid this eerie atmosphere, an old man in a trench coat and Helmet of Black King emerged from the darkness.

He had once been a mercenary employed by Kingpin and had crossed paths with most superheroes. Forty-five years had passed, yet his skills had not dulled in the slightest. Now, he was one of Red Skull’s marshals, an executioner feared by countless people across the wasteland.

He was Bullseye.

Following Old Barton’s trail, Bullseye arrived at Eyeball Man’s nightclub.

Looking at the building before him, Bullseye’s lips trembled slightly, and his only eye felt dry. He let out a long breath, gradually calming his racing heartbeat.

He had had enough!

He was a warrior, a warrior who longed to challenge the strong.

He was sick of decades of mediocrity. He was sick of helping Red Skull deal with those trivial matters. He was sick of a world without superheroes.

So many years had passed, yet not a single superhero had appeared anywhere in the wasteland. No one raised Thor’s hammer to declare war on evil. Mister Fantastic and Invisible Woman had failed to emerge from the river of time, while the descendants of those superheroes had become trash worse than stray dogs by the roadside.

His reckless actions had never drawn anyone’s intervention. All he received was emptiness after his madness.

But!

All of this was finally coming to an end.

After witnessing Hawkeye kill the duplicate man, Old Bullseye’s heart had gradually heated up. Finally, finally, there was a superhero. Finally, someone could let him taste the pleasures of the past again.

This was an important moment for Bullseye, and the most important battle of his life.

As he slowly approached the entrance of Bewildering Blossoms Nightclub, Bullseye could clearly hear the revelry within. He believed Eyeball Man would tell him Hawkeye’s whereabouts.

When he pushed open the door, deafening music and blinding lights washed over him, drawing an involuntary smile to Bullseye’s lips.

"Hello, welcome to Bewildering Blossoms Nightclub. Please come in."

An enthusiastic waitress came up to greet him. She was a girl dressed as Scarlet Witch, with an incredible figure. Every movement she made was especially eye-catching, like a demon that lured souls away.

But none of that stirred Bullseye’s heart in the slightest.

He raised his head, about to speak.

The next moment, Bullseye froze in place, and the expression on his face instantly stiffened.

Under the lights, the girl’s slightly shadowed face was covered in blood. Her warm smile now resembled the exquisitely arranged face of a corpse. The sticky blood had long dried into a blackish hue, clinging tightly to her skin.

Bullseye felt his mind go blank. He instinctively prepared to seize her, but something within him told him there was no danger here.

His eye blinked rapidly, and Bullseye quietly took two steps back.

"Sir?" The waitress tilted her head, seemingly puzzled by Bullseye’s actions.

Bullseye did not answer. He first raised a hand and covered his mechanical eyeball. The next moment, all the bloodstains on the girl vanished, and she became a normal young woman, waiting enthusiastically for Bullseye’s response.

Then Bullseye lowered his hand and slowly closed his eye.

In an instant, the girl before him disappeared. Through the vision of his mechanical eyeball, the once brightly lit hall became incomparably dim, and everything was veiled in black.

Although the music still blared in his ears, Bullseye felt an abnormal silence within it.

He stepped forward and walked inside without encountering any obstruction.

The hall was so dark that one could not see a hand before one’s face, but Bullseye’s mechanical eyeball had night vision, so he did not lose sight of his surroundings. Dozens of corpses lay scattered across Bewildering Blossoms Nightclub’s hall, rigidly maintaining the poses they had held in life, their breathing long gone.

When he covered his mechanical eyeball again, the blinding lights reappeared. On the stage, beautiful girls danced around poles to the pulsing beat, freely displaying their charms.

Below the stage, drunken mercenaries gathered in twos and threes, occasionally bursting into laughter. The entire nightclub was immersed in a cheerful atmosphere.

When he lowered his hand, the scene of corpses filled his vision once more.

Bullseye’s heart stirred. He was certain now: he had entered an illusion. Someone had slaughtered everyone here, then left behind magical runes that preserved the place’s former appearance.

At first, he had wondered whether this might have been the work of Mysterio’s illusion machines, but he quickly rejected that guess.

Fearing that Mysterio might use the same methods he had used against Wolverine on him, Red Skull had secretly executed Mysterio long ago. Everything in his possession had also been completely destroyed by Hydra. There could not possibly have been anything left behind.

Besides, Mysterio’s illusions were technological. Strictly speaking, they should have been able to deceive Bullseye’s mechanical eyeball completely. But this environment was different. The illusion targeting ordinary people felt more like the product of magic or witchcraft.

Magic?

Bullseye toyed with a coin he had spotted on a table, a trace of curiosity rising within him.

Logically speaking, magic should not have existed in territory controlled by Red Skull. Even heretics who studied and worshipped Black Magic generally hid deep in the mountains and forests. No one should have been bold enough to act so close to the city.

Bullseye moved through the blood-soaked scene, stopping and starting as his brain raced, trying to reconstruct the course of the murder.

His eyes were empty, his expression dull. He was killed suddenly, but the wound was a cut rather than a gunshot. That means the attacker moved so fast that he could not react at all. And the attacker’s route was…

Bullseye turned his head slightly, shifting his gaze. Then he followed the trail of blood until it extended to a table in the corner.

That was where the attacker stood.

Lowering his gaze, he saw a burly man torn in half. He had been ripped apart by tremendous force. His upper body lay not far from the entrance, while his lower body was five meters away.

The attacker was extremely strong, far stronger than I imagined. This probably was not the work of the same person, but I can’t be sure. Perhaps his abilities were simply more exceptional.

There were even more clues at the scene than Bullseye had expected. The killer seemed to have had no intention of concealing anything, or perhaps believed the magic left behind here was enough to handle anyone else. After all, the place was frequented by regular customers, and there was not much foot traffic.

Walking on, Bullseye stopped before another corpse that had been scorched into charcoal.

He lightly touched the surface of the corpse with a finger, then crushed some black residue and held it beneath his nose. The pungent smell entered his nostrils, clearing Bullseye’s mind considerably.

High-voltage current… But not natural lightning. Mjolnir and magical witchcraft can probably be ruled out. Compared to those supernatural abilities, this felt more like… a technological product?