Have You Heard of Erik?

It was late at night. The sky was overcast, dim and lightless.

Young Erik had climbed into his little bed early. Before going to sleep, he drank a cup of warm milk specially prepared by his mother. Because they were moving, Erik’s parents planned to sell the cow tomorrow.

Erik had grown up in Iowa. His parents said that this had once been a peaceful place. Although making money had never been easy, people could at least barely keep themselves fed and clothed.

Later, some mutants settled here. Though neither side interfered with the other, life became difficult.

In these chaotic times, nowhere was absolutely safe. But Erik’s parents, who had lived through the old era, understood that if they wanted to protect Erik, they had to stay as far away from those "superhumans" as possible.

Even though society had become somewhat more stable, no one could say whether those freaks would stir up trouble again.

Erik’s family lived in the slums. Both his parents were dentists, a profession that might once have earned them a great deal of money.

But in this era, even ensuring they had enough to eat and wear was difficult. To pay protection money, Erik’s parents had to hand over a large sum every month.

Erik’s father had been the first to suggest moving. Once, while making a house call, he had personally witnessed a conflict between a mutant and local gang members.

In only a few seconds, those burly gangsters had been torn to pieces, leaving him terrified.

Those gangs demanded money from every household and even committed robberies and extortion, but they generally did not kill people. They only wanted money, after all. Murder would only reduce their earnings; it was not worth it.

But mutants were different. They seemed not to consider themselves the same race as humans. Anyone who offended them usually had only one fate: death.

Erik’s father was an old-fashioned good man, timid and submissive by nature. He felt he would never offend those mutants, but he feared that his family might be harmed.

Whenever groups of people with superpowers emerged, there were always countless "collateral victims"—Erik’s grandparents had been among them.

So, for his family’s safety, Erik’s father only wanted to get them out of there as quickly as possible.

Lying in bed, Erik felt surrounded by immense warmth. This was the place where he felt the most comfortable and safest. Whenever other children bullied him outside, he would hide beneath his blankets, and that feeling always reassured him.

His parents had promised that if he obediently went to sleep tonight, they would buy him the Daredevil toy he had always wanted when they moved tomorrow. Erik was overjoyed. He closed his eyes early, wishing for tomorrow to arrive sooner.

But…

Late that night, Erik was awakened by his parents’ screams.

His eyes were filled with terror. Although Erik was more sensible than most children his age, he had never experienced anything like this.

He quickly climbed out of bed and, barefoot, slowly made his way to the bedroom door. He did not know what was happening outside, but he could hear his father’s hoarse, desperate screams and his mother’s cries.

It filled his young heart with overwhelming fear.

He slowly opened the door a crack and peered outside, his body trembling.

The sounds were coming from the first floor, where his parents usually stayed. The second floor only had Erik’s room and a small attic storage room. By the light from downstairs, Erik slowly moved toward the stairs.

He did not know where he found the courage.

There were only two meters between his bedroom door and the stairs, yet Erik did not know how long it took him to cross them. He only knew that wails filled his ears and his body had long ceased to obey him.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Erik did not dare go down directly. He slowly lowered himself to the floor and poked his head out.

What Erik saw next became a nightmare that haunted him for the rest of his life.

A monster covered in long fur was pinning his father beneath it, its razor-sharp fangs constantly tearing at his father’s flesh. Erik’s mother lay nearby, her entire right arm ripped off. She clearly would not survive much longer.

At that moment, Erik forgot to breathe. A mist filled his eyes, and tears streamed down his face. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Fear filled his heart completely.

He forgot how he returned to his room. He also forgot how long he cried beneath his blankets.

He only knew that, after what felt like a hundred years, the local mounted police found him and carried him out of bed.

The mounted police pitied Erik, a child who had suffered such a tragedy. But that was simply how this era was. No one was absolutely safe, and in a sense, someone with a background like Erik’s was all too common.

Because supernatural creatures were involved, the case could not be solved. The mounted police did not want to invite trouble, so they could only close it hastily.

Still, Erik was fortunate. An old mounted policeman nearing retirement was willing to adopt him.

Erik did not remember exactly what happened that day. He only remembered that when the old mounted policeman took him home, he pulled a Daredevil doll soaked in blood from his coat.

His parents had already prepared the gift.

From that day onward, Erik seemed like a different person. He no longer spoke to anyone, nor did he smile at anyone. He sealed off his heart and trained intensely every day—revenge became his reason for living.

Erik learned from the old mounted policeman about the killer who had brutally murdered his parents. It was a werewolf, one of the filthiest dark creatures. Legend said that heroes had wiped them out, but everyone knew such things could never truly be eradicated.

These monsters came from the purest Black Magic. No one knew what they had once been like, but now they could no longer truly be considered "human."

Those monsters possessed superhuman strength, speed, and endurance. Their teeth were incredibly sharp, and their claws could even shred metal. Ordinary people had no way to deal with them, and even mounted police were unwilling to provoke them.

But Erik did not care. He had only one goal: avenge his parents.

The Erik who had once been weak, timid, ignorant, and prone to tears was dead.

He had died that day, that night.

The old mounted policeman had also been a skilled fighter in his youth. He knew Erik was destined to walk the path of revenge, so to keep Erik from throwing his life away and give him some ability to protect himself, he began training him and teaching him combat techniques.

During that time, Erik also learned about the old mounted policeman’s past. For example, he had once had a daughter, but she had died in a great battle between heroes and villains. Both of them had lost family. Perhaps that was why the old mounted policeman adopted him and taught him to fight.

Time passed quickly.

Nineteen-year-old Erik had become an incredibly strong young man. Over the past decade or so, he had honed his fighting skills every moment of every day. At the same time, he dreamed of personally cutting off the heads of those dark monsters.

Erik made himself a black combat suit modeled after Blade’s. He hung the Daredevil doll from his waist and chose to take revenge on every dark creature in the wasteland.

That day was the old mounted policeman’s funeral. Perhaps knowing that he did not have much time left, the old man had called Erik to his side the day before.

He told Erik that he could barely remember his own age. He had lived long enough, and now it was time for him to find his daughter. The road ahead would be difficult, but he believed Erik would overcome everything.

After saying that, the old mounted policeman smiled and fell asleep. But this time, he never woke again.

That day, Erik once again endured the pain of losing family.

He stood silently before the old mounted policeman’s grave for a long time. Only when the sun was about to sink beneath the horizon did he finally move. Slipping a pack onto his back and putting on his mask, Erik vanished into the darkness.

From this day forward, there would be no more Erik in this world. There would only be Overkill, born for revenge!

Wandering the wasteland, Erik left his hometown for the first time. He knew the road ahead would be filled with hardship and thorns, but he was utterly fearless as he stepped onto the path of revenge without hesitation.

His first kill came in a western town. He had heard drunken mercenaries say that a lone werewolf had appeared there. Whenever night fell, mournful wolf howls could always be heard across that endless sea of yellow sand.

The local rangers and mercenaries had organized several hunts for the werewolf, but it seemed exceptionally wary. It had evaded several large-scale hunts, and over time, no one could do anything about it.

After hearing this rumor, Erik’s heart, calm for so many years, began to stir. His parents had been devoured by a lone wolf. It would have been perfect if he could find his parents’ killer here.

After half a month of inquiries, investigation, and waiting in ambush, Erik finally figured out the lone wolf’s movements. To give himself better odds in the coming battle, he even brought along highly destructive firearms.

But even so, Erik discovered that he had still underestimated these dark creatures. Its healing ability was terrifying. Bullets striking its body could only slow it briefly and could not even injure it.

Left with no choice, Erik began fighting the werewolf barehanded. But how could a human body compare with a werewolf’s? Erik soon found himself at a disadvantage.

But perhaps it was the goddess of luck’s favor, or something else.

Just as the werewolf prepared to bite Erik to death, it accidentally swallowed a stick of concentrated explosive. The violent blast tore the werewolf’s body into fragments. Countless chunks of flesh flew through the air, along with fur slick with viscous blood.

Erik was covered in blood. He lay weakly on the ground, his vision filled only with endless crimson. He knew he had succeeded. On the path of revenge, he had finally taken an important first step.

But at the same time, he realized his shortcomings. Though his physical strength and combat skills were already formidable among humans, he was still far too weak compared to dark creatures.

If he wanted to kill those powerful beings, he had to acquire more knowledge and discover their weaknesses. Only then could he make his actions more efficient.

But that would not be easy. After Red Skull burned all magical creations, learning about such wondrous things became incredibly difficult. Erik also lacked the ability to steal books on sorcery from Doctor Doom, so he could only take things one step at a time.

Over several years, Erik wrote a set of notes based on his experiences, densely recording the dark creatures and monsters he had personally killed over the years.

Erik not only summarized those creatures’ habits and behavior, but also described in detail how to deal with them and what weaknesses they possessed. All of it was intelligence he had painstakingly uncovered between life and death.

At the same time, because of his constant slaughter across the wasteland, the name Overkill grew increasingly famous.

People began praising this hero who slaughtered monsters. Many mercenaries who lived on the edge of a blade also became close with him. To those mercenaries, they only faced employers and targets, but Erik faced terrifying monsters.

In a dark age, those with the strongest fists were always treated with respect. This was undoubtedly true for Erik.

After gaining immense fame, Erik also found love.

After one ghoul-hunting operation, Erik dragged his exhausted body to Raxia Tavern. This was a tavern that specifically served mercenaries, and Erik was a regular here.

The moment he entered, everyone in the tavern cheered for him. Erik accepted the cup handed to him by the tavern owner and soon joined the others in lively celebration.

It was also that day that he saw a red-haired woman among the mercenaries.

Erik had once believed that he lived only for revenge and that someone like him did not deserve love. But he had to admit that when he saw that woman, his heart suddenly stirred.

He fell in love with her.

The woman was named Weiya, the leader of a small mercenary group. Though she had only recently arrived, she had long heard of Erik’s bravery. Likewise, she had fallen for this hero who punished evil.

But the dull and awkward Erik did not know how to face this relationship. He had never been close to women, much less developed feelings for anyone.

So, faced with Weiya’s love, Erik could only bury it deep in his heart.

Everyone knew that when a woman fell in love with someone, her actions could become crazy.

Erik did not dare casually accept such profound affection, nor did he dare casually make promises to Weiya. Afterward, Erik did not even dare appear before Weiya again.

It was hard to imagine that a hero who had hunted countless demons and monsters could actually be "afraid" of a woman.

What happened between Erik and Weiya was always the mercenaries’ favorite topic of drunken conversation. They loved seeing the expressionless Erik blush whenever Weiya was mentioned, and they also loved watching Weiya cause a drunken scene in the tavern because she could not find Erik.

To them, these matters were undoubtedly the happiest part of every day.

Some close brothers had also advised Erik that hiding would not solve anything. If he wanted to make his feelings clear, he had to face the relationship directly.

Erik understood that as well. He decided that after resolving the matter currently at hand, he would have a proper talk with Weiya and make everything clear.

Osborn City. The dying light of the setting sun slowly fell.

The shadows of the walls gradually shifted, sweeping across one slender, towering wooden pole after another.

Erik faced the direction in which the sun was setting.

He died with his eyes open.