Under normal circumstances, Russell is a gentleman who cherishes the fairer sex.
But this is limited to normal circumstances.
If they are already an enemy, and you let them off just because they are beautiful, that's not cherishing the fairer sex, but rather having a screw loose.
While twisting the Fox's neck, black tentacles surged from Russell's left hand, coiling around the last two Brotherhood assassins like pythons.
Crack!
Two crisp sounds of bone breaking rang out.
Russell didn't hesitate at all, ending the lives of these two Brotherhood assassins.
At this point, the only people still standing in the entire first-floor factory were him and Crosshair.
If you counted the people still alive, then you'd also have to include the severely injured and unconscious Wesley.
After casually tossing aside the Fox's corpse, Russell turned back and glanced at Crosshair.
While being surrounded, Crosshair had sustained some injuries, but they weren't fatal.
Aside from looking a bit dishevelled, he still retained most of his combat effectiveness.
However, he knew very well that even if he was at his peak, he would absolutely be no match for Russell.
Even when Russell was in his human form, he could already withstand bullets with his bare body.
After his entire body turned into venom, let alone withstanding bullets, withstanding cannonballs wouldn't be a problem.
Crosshair put on a look of melancholy, as if lamenting the changes, and scanned the factory floor littered with corpses.
Although his movements were very subtle, Russell still noticed that when he scanned Wesley, his gaze lingered for a fraction of a second longer.
Although Wesley currently looked dead, he was clearly still some time away from true death.
As long as he received treatment before losing too much blood, it wouldn't be long before Wesley became lively and energetic again.
Crosshair was able to become the Brotherhood's ace assassin thanks to his unparalleled gun-slinging technique.
For him, an operation like injuring without killing was not difficult.
After scanning the messy factory floor, Crosshair, as if resigned to his fate, threw away his pistol, spread his hands, and said calmly, "Mr. Russell, my life is yours!"
Russell didn't immediately kill Crosshair. Instead, he controlled the symbiote on his head, revealing half of his face.
"Are you so sure I've killed Sloan?"
"The Crazy Traveler always repays his debts! Sloan's life shouldn't be enough for you to break your principles!"
Crosshair looked at Russell, who only had half his face visible, with a calm expression.
"That's right! The Crazy Traveler always repays his debts!" Russell said with a smile.
Just as Crosshair was about to close his eyes and accept his death, Russell's voice rang out again.
"Since you know that saying, you should be very clear that I never leave potential enemies for myself."
Crosshair's expression changed, his calm demeanour completely gone.
Before he could say anything, Russell extended his right hand, and black tentacles shot out like ropes, coiling around Wesley's body.
The injured and unconscious Wesley was lifted over like a marionette.
"To save your son's life, you didn't hesitate to personally severely injure your only son. You can be considered a good father."
As he spoke, the black tentacles wrapped around Wesley began to merge with him, possessing him to a certain extent.
Russell had already tested it with Sloan just now.
Although he couldn't split off independent symbiotes to possess others, as long as the connection wasn't completely severed, he could control the symbiote to possess others to a certain extent.
This was somewhat like a puppeteer controlling puppets.
As long as he controlled the symbiote to possess others, he could control these possessed people just like controlling puppets.
After the symbiote on the tentacles possessed Wesley, Wesley, whose chest had been pierced by bullets, quickly regained consciousness.
His injuries were also completely healed by the symbiote.
The moment he opened his eyes, Wesley's first reaction was to raise his gun and shoot.
However, being tightly bound by the black tentacles and possessed by the symbiote, let alone raising his right hand to shoot, he couldn't even move his fingers freely.
"I'm not a good person, but I'm not a devil either."
"Before you die, I don't mind giving you a chance for a father and son reunion."
...
Boom!
The Loom of Fate, placed in the core area of the textile mill, met its destructive end, blown into pieces by Russell with a bomb.
After dealing with the Loom of Fate, which the Brotherhood regarded as a sacred object, Russell left the textile mill through the secret passage in Sloan's study.
Crosshair and Wesley were dead, all the Brotherhood members were also dead, and the Loom of Fate was blown up.
The Brotherhood, an assassin organization that had existed for over a thousand years, was officially annihilated.
Hell's Kitchen.
The Squid Monster Detective Agency, which had been burned to ruins.
Looking at the agency that had accompanied him through his initial years as a detective, Russell sighed softly.
After leaving the textile mill, he took a taxi back to Hell's Kitchen.
The textile mill side, of course, would be handled by the police.
When he walked out of the secret passage, he saw quite a few police cars with sirens blaring rushing towards the textile mill.
After finding the blackened safe among the remains of the burnt bookshelf, he began to enter the password.
Fortunately, he had chosen a safe with a mechanical combination lock back then, not an electronic one.
Otherwise, he might have to consider forcibly dismantling the safe now.
Click!
Perhaps because the fire didn't last very long, the cash and gold coins inside the safe were unharmed.
Just as he was taking out the cash and gold coins, the landlord arrived at the agency in a hurry.
The landlord was a white man in his fifties named Shawn. He was unemployed and lived off collecting rent; this entire building belonged to him.
Unlike other landlords, he was a very interesting guy.
Other landlords would set aside a few fixed days each month to collect rent.
Shawn was different. From the 1st to the 31st, he would collect rent from one or two tenants every day.
He would spend whatever rent he received on that day.
He would repeat it the next day.
In his words, this made him feel like he was working, and every day was payday.
"Oh, my God, this is terrible! I was just telling Susan yesterday that the layout of your agency looked as good as my grandmother's cream cake! I bet she's never seen a better-looking detective agency than yours!"
The Susan he mentioned was his wife.
A Russian woman who, when she was young, had a figure like a Victoria's Secret model, but after getting married, became as sturdy as a wrestler.
"Find someone to redecorate here. Are there any spare rooms upstairs?"
Russell took out three stacks of cash and placed them in Shawn's hand.
Shawn looked at the cash in his hand, then looked at Russell, and nodded.
"I'll work upstairs until it's renovated. The extra amount is for the rent of the upstairs room."
Russell patted Shawn's shoulder and left the ruined agency with the remaining cash and gold coins.