Lone Wolf

Chapter 65: Lone Wolf

Night had fallen. The sun had completely sunk beyond the horizon, and darkness blanketed the city streets along the French coast like black fog.

Bang—

Rat-a-tat-tat!

The defensive line on the frontmost beach had long since collapsed. The unceasing artillery fire and gunshots covered the entire area within a dozen or so miles.

The Allied forces of the three nations pressed their attack, while the German Soldiers fought desperately to hold them back. The two sides were tangled in chaos, with fierce exchanges of gunfire and artillery flashing continuously through the night, illuminating a hellish scene of bloodshed across the ground.

Countless corpses and mangled remains carpeted the ground. Broken helmets, empty magazines and guns, and spent shell casings lay scattered everywhere. Blood dripped and flowed together, as if a rain of blood had fallen.

Yet the war was not over. It had only just begun.

Tonight was destined to be a sleepless night filled with slaughter and gunpowder smoke, an unprecedented battle the people of great nations would be unwilling to recall in the years to come.

At the edge of the city streets.

"Demon! He’s a demon!"

"Retreat! Everyone fall back!!"

Unlike the stalemates between soldiers on both sides elsewhere on the battlefield, the situation here was completely one-sided. More than a dozen well-armed German Soldiers fled for their lives, their faces pale with terror.

Not far behind them, within the darkness of a street alley, a tall, muscular humanoid monster slowly followed with a blood-dripping one-handed sword in hand.

The humanoid monster seemed to be covered in a dark outer layer of hardened membrane. Its perfect muscular contours flowed smoothly beneath it, and without the flashes of artillery fire, it would have blended into the night.

Scarlet, narrow eyes, savage fangs, and a physique brimming with primal wildness—this was Kyle’s fully covered primitive form after symbiosis with Venom.

In the street alleys behind him, more than a dozen soldiers’ corpses, split in two, lay strewn across the ground. Fresh blood still flowed endlessly, washing over the pavement.

"Grenades! Throw all your grenades at it!" the German officer at the head of the group shouted in terror. The remaining soldiers immediately obeyed, hurling every grenade on their bodies behind them.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The explosions from the grenades linked together in a chain, completely sealing off the middle of the street passage. The collapsed buildings around it blocked Kyle from view.

"Whew." The German officer let out a breath, then sat down as his legs went weak and numb. Laughing wildly to vent his fear, he said, "Hahaha, that monster is dead! Finally dea—"

His words abruptly stopped. At some point, a bone-chilling cold had risen behind him, and the shadow cast by a towering figure enveloped his body.

"Captain, behind you—" The other dozen German Soldiers looked behind the officer. It was as though they had seen the most terrifying thing in their lives, and they trembled uncontrollably as they backed away.

The German officer had lost even the strength to stand, much less turn around. His teeth chattered as he rasped, "Fire. Keep firing…"

Squelch!

The sharp tip of the one-handed sword descended from above, easily piercing straight through the German officer’s entire skull.

"Captain!" The dozen German Soldiers growled through tears. Their grief and rage became courage, overcoming their fear as they aimed their guns at the shadow behind the officer’s corpse and opened fire.

The next instant, countless bullets struck the shadow and fell to the ground, proving just how futile their final counterattack was.

Tap, tap!

Pulling the one-handed sword free from the skull, Kyle, clad in the Venom Suit, charged through the dense rain of bullets. With a low burst forward, he closed the few meters between himself and the enemy soldiers, then swept his sword horizontally. The soldiers fell one after another like wheat being harvested from a field.

The battle in this small area quickly returned to its former silence.

Kyle had no idea how many enemy soldiers he had killed this way. It meant nothing. Immersed in the atmosphere of this night of slaughter, his body remained in a state of intense excitement.

After silently glancing at the enemy corpses, Kyle was about to move deeper into the war zone when his peripheral vision caught sight of something in the distant street. His raised foot immediately stopped.

Less than a hundred meters away, there was another group of around ten German Soldiers engaged in a fierce firefight with a single enemy.

The man had originally been struggling to resist with a gun, but he soon threw it aside and charged toward the German Soldiers as though he feared no death.

Like a lone wolf hunting its prey, the man charged through the bullets, gripping a claw-like cold weapon in his hand as he made a desperate final stand.

Whether it was admirable courage or sheer stupidity, he had charged without any protection toward ten guns loaded with ammunition. The outcome was obvious.

Kyle watched the scene coldly and had intended to leave, but the reversal in the one-against-ten battle the next moment made his entire body tremble.

The man had not died beneath the barrage of gunfire. Instead, he successfully broke into the midst of the German Soldiers. The claw weapon in his hand rapidly harvested their lives, and amid spurting blood, he killed even faster than Kyle!

In almost the blink of an eye, the ten German Soldiers within sight had fallen dead. Only the man remained standing at the scene before his figure quickly vanished into the night.

The hood of the Venom Suit receded into black threads, revealing Kyle’s handsome face. His eyes were now filled with shock and disbelief.

"Could it be him? How is that possible?!"

This was the Marvel movie universe, the world of the Avengers. How could that person possibly exist here…

Without the slightest hesitation, Kyle kicked off and sprinted toward the location at top speed.

Within seconds, Kyle arrived at the site of the recent battle and quickly surveyed the area. Yet only ten mangled corpses remained in pools of blood. The lone-wolf-like man was nowhere to be seen.

Kyle examined the fatal wounds on the German Soldiers’ corpses one by one. Most were on their necks and chests—three claw marks sunk deep enough to expose stark white bone, nearly all clean, lethal strikes.

His mind churned, and he found it impossible to calm himself.

Was it really him?

Kyle sank into thought, then quickly seemed to sense something. He sharply turned around and looked toward the corner of an alley beside the street.

From the darkness at the corner, a middle-aged man in a soviet soldier’s Combat Suit walked out impassively. Leaning against the alley wall, he pulled a cigarette and lighter from his pocket and slowly lit it.

He had a cool-looking crew cut of black hair, while a beard covered his chin and stretched along both cheeks. His face was rugged and brimming with masculine charm.

The middle-aged man took a satisfying drag from his cigarette. Looking coldly at Kyle beside the German Soldiers’ corpses, he exhaled white smoke and asked, "Who are you, American soldier?"