Superpowers in the Marvel World

"A human stronger than Frank Castle?!"

Alex's heart tensed slightly. With a light step, he unleashed the full potential of his body under precise self-control. What appeared to be the simplest step was faster than others sprinting with all their might. In the blink of an eye, he intercepted a **member attempting to escape through the window.

Before the man could beg for mercy, Alex's left hand landed on him. A buzzing sound followed, and the man's body disintegrated into countless fragments, merging into Alex's blood-red eyes.

Witnessing this, the remaining survivors were terrified, too frightened to linger for even a moment. They cursed their parents for not giving them more limbs to flee faster.

To kill with terrifying swordsmanship and devour people whole—what kind of monster had they provoked?!

A bold voice suddenly called out, "Stop! Stop! Buddy, whatever you want, we can talk this out. Why use such ruthless methods?"

"Ruthless?"

Alex's faint smile carried silent yet heavy ridicule. The devouring of lives in his hands didn't slow down. He swiftly eliminated another mercenary who had failed to escape.

"Go ask Kingpin and Howard about that!"

As he spoke, Alex's figure appeared before another **member. Just as his hand extended, a sharp warning rose in his heart.

Not daring to take it lightly, Alex tilted his body slightly and sidestepped several meters.

Bang!

The moment Alex stabilized himself, a gunshot echoed. A bullet, moving faster than the speed of sound, whizzed past where he had just stood.

If not for Alex's quick reflexes, the bullet would have hit him.

"So, there's a sharpshooter here!"

"You reckless brat, how dare you cause trouble here?!"

As Alex marveled at the sharpshooter, an arrogant voice came from the direction of the gunshot. Turning, he saw four men with imposing auras, guns in hand, followed by a group of thugs armed with submachine guns.

"Brother Smith!"

"Boss Gates!"

"You're dead! You're so dead! With my brothers here, you're as good as a corpse!"

The remaining mercenaries and **members lit up with joy upon seeing familiar faces. They were like drowning victims spotting a rescue boat, filled with hope for survival.

But before their grins could spread, Alex let out a cold snort. His blade flashed, and his figure blurred into motion. He darted among the now-stationary enemies, his sword cutting through flesh and bone. Blood sprayed, and screams erupted but were abruptly silenced.

When Alex stopped, those who had just seen hope collapsed lifelessly, their vitality and blood swiftly draining away.

Now, apart from Smith, Gates, and their reinforcements, no other **members or mercenaries remained alive on the scene.

"Damn it, fire! Shoot him down!"

Seeing Alex's terrifying skills, the four men were visibly shaken. Ignoring their pride, they ordered their men to open fire immediately.

Ratatatatatatata!

Under their orders, forty-odd submachine guns roared, bullets ripping through the air as they sped toward Alex.

Against such intense firepower, even an elephant would be riddled with holes in seconds. In their minds, Alex's bloodied demise was already playing out. A faint smirk crept across their faces.

However—

Before those smiles could fully form, they were replaced by utter shock.

Amid the hail of bullets, Alex remained calm. Suddenly, he drew his sword.

In that instant, his blade moved at such speed that it created an impenetrable wall of sword shadows, dense and flawless.

Activating his Thousand-Mile Eye, Alex's senses expanded to an unimaginable peak. He could perceive every airflow shift within a radius of dozens of meters. Each bullet's trajectory, the void they tore through, and even the whirl of air they left behind were vividly clear in his vision.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sound of metal colliding with metal echoed repeatedly. It originated from every corner within a meter of Alex. Not a single bullet managed to strike him.

In that brief moment, Alex had thrust his sword 108 times, perfectly deflecting 108 bullets.

"This… this…"

The onlookers were dumbfounded, staring at the ground littered with bullets and the marks left by stray shots. None could believe their eyes.

"Quick, fire again! He can't keep this up!"

Smith's enraged command snapped his men out of their daze, prompting them to reload and open fire.

But just as Smith barked his orders, Alex swung his katana with a sharp motion, sending one of the fallen bullets flying.

"Shinmei-ryu Secret Sword: Whirlwind Dance!"

The bullet shot forward with terrifying speed, piercing through Smith's forehead and exiting the back of his head in an instant.

Thud!

Smith's towering body collapsed, his guns clattering to the ground. Blood and brain matter spilled everywhere. Even in death, his eyes remained wide open, unable to comprehend how he had been killed so easily.

"Brother Smith!!!"

"Impossible! This has to be a joke!!!"

Gates and the remaining thugs froze in terror. To them, Alex was no longer human—he was a devil incarnate.

Whizz! Slash!

Another bullet was deflected, striking a mercenary leader near Gates. Blood spurted as the man fell.

"Ah… no… you… you monster…"

Before Gates could finish his words, Alex unleashed a flurry of strikes. Bullets ricocheted one after another, targeting their ranks with deadly precision.

Screams erupted.

By the time the dust settled, over twenty men lay dead, and another dozen were gravely wounded.

Faced with such carnage, Gates and his men scattered in panic, desperately trying to flee.

But it was futile. Against Alex's merciless onslaught, they were slaughtered one by one.

And so, the battle concluded. A lone swordsman had defeated an army of gunmen—securing an overwhelming victory.

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