Chapter 17

In the illusion of the redhead, there was only darkness, indicating that there was not a single ray of light in this person's heart; he was a thorough and complete dark individual. And in this dark individual's illusion, a sea of blood rose up from the ground, forcibly squeezing out a space from the darkness.

In the center of the sea of blood, a stout and strong man appeared.

This man was seated on a chair, wearing a white suit and dark brown trousers. In one hand, he held a pawn from a chess set, lost in deep thought.

However, this man, with his eyes closed in contemplation, was more terrifying to the redhead than any demon or ghost.

Yes, this was the source of the redhead's deepest fear, and also the root of evil in the entire American underworld.

The redhead knelt on the ground, subjected to countless instruments of torture. Unlike the ability to enter dreams, the wounds in the illusion were merely fantasies and could not be reflected on his body in reality.

However, on the Withered Claw Grassland of the inner world formed by Ymir's resentment, every moment, the withered claws carved countless bloody marks on the redhead's body. No part of his body escaped, and blood soon covered him entirely.

In the illusion, the redhead did not notice the loss of his life force at all; he still had the strength to wail, hoping that Kingpin, seated on the throne, would spare his life.

This image was too obvious, and Ymir frowned in distress. He was sure he had seen this image in a movie from his previous life. But who was it?

Ymir had seen many movies in his previous life, but he couldn't recall which character fit this image.

He raised his head and looked at the white-clad fat man.

Almost as soon as Ymir's gaze fell on him, the white-clad fat man, seated on the sea of blood, suddenly opened his eyes and roared, smashing the chessboard in front of him with both hands: "Who are you, to dare invade my empire, my world!"

This was impossible. Although Ymir was using this hallucinatory ghost wall ability for the first time, he never expected that a mere image from the subject's memory would have its own consciousness.

The fat man, standing about two meters tall, swung his massive, muscular arms and fiercely grabbed at Ymir's neck.

Ymir's face turned pale. He could feel the immense strength in those arms. Almost instinctively, he summoned his yin power, instantly transforming into an ethereal ghostly form. The iron arms passed through his body, and Ymir looked up at this "giant" with lingering fear.

Who is this? How could he detect my presence?

Ymir's mind was filled with shock and doubt. The redhead's illusion wavered, shattering like a mirror broken by a small hammer. The redhead's soul had "died," and his body had stopped breathing.

Without a host, the illusionary world naturally ceased to exist, and Ymir was ejected from it, returning to the pool hall already covered by the inner world.

The withered claws scratched at the bodies of the redhead's subordinates, one after another. These thugs were immersed in their most terrifying illusions and had no awareness of the external harm.

Except for the specially treated Old Jeff, everyone was enveloped in this gray-black spiritual terror. With just a thought from Ymir, all the hands sent by Ferren to seize the pool hall could be easily harvested.

However, Ymir was still pondering. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck him, and he finally remembered who the white-clad giant was. Yes, how could he forget? The super-villain who appeared alongside Daredevil in the movies—Kingpin!

This was an extremely terrifying super-criminal. One could say that he was the emperor of the "Criminal Empire" in the American underworld. His records of confrontations with superheroes alone could prove Kingpin's terror from a certain perspective.

Almost 80% of criminal activities in the United States originated from Kingpin. He first appeared as an enemy of Spider-Man but soon became Daredevil's arch-nemesis and had multiple conflicts with the Punisher.

Destroying a gambling den, stopping a smuggling operation, or capturing some gang members might all touch the intricate web Kingpin had woven.

Whether it was Spider-Man, Daredevil, the Punisher, or the X-Men, all had confronted Kingpin. Any of their actions could offend his empire, so Kingpin never held back in dealing with "superhumans."

Being able to fight so many superheroes and still live a comfortable life was a capability not every super-criminal possessed.

In Kingpin's eyes, even Spider-Man, Daredevil, and the Punisher were insignificant, let alone Ymir, a novice who had just gained superpowers. Most importantly, Ymir had never planned to oppose Kingpin.

In Ymir's view, he and his sister Kathleen had their own lives. Kingpin ruled his criminal empire, and these two should have been like parallel lines, never intersecting. But now...

For a moment, the screams and cries in the pool hall did not reach Ymir's ears.

He was considering how to wrap things up. Ymir had only intended to teach these people a lesson. But the plan went awry; first, the redhead died in the soul clash between himself and Kingpin (consciousness). On the other hand, leaving these people alive could mean someone might remember his appearance.

But killing so many people at once was something Ymir could not accept. As he was at a loss, a timid voice suddenly appeared in his ear: "Mr. Ymir, Mr. Matt left a message for you."

"Mr. Matt?" Ymir was jolted out of his thoughts. The name "Matt" struck his mind like a bolt of lightning. Yes, as a veteran hero, Matt must know the identity of the big boss behind Ferren.

Moreover, Daredevil had many direct confrontations with Kingpin. Now that Matt had asked him to deal with these thugs, he must have left a solution.

Probably, maybe, possibly. For some reason, Ymir felt a sudden unease.

Before dispelling the cursed inner world, Ymir made up his mind.

He gritted his teeth and increased the output of his yin power. On the floor, only a group of unconscious thugs remained, driven mad by their most terrifying fears in the illusion. Even if they were rescued, they would only be sent to mental hospitals as research subjects, never regaining their sanity.