I want to commission you to kill Sloan?"
As expected!
Just as he predicted!
Russell had guessed this when the system popped up the reward information.
"Sloan is the leader of the Fraternity. Killing him won't be easy."
"Just a friendly reminder, my minimum fee for one job is 350,000 US dollars. For a target like Sloan, are you sure you can afford the payment?"
If it were other assassins with Cross's skills, they would definitely be multi-millionaires, if not billionaires.
But the problem is, the Fraternity assassins are different.
In their eyes, they are the assassins of fate, the chosen assassins of God.
While 'assassins of fate' sounds nice, God doesn't pay them.
Compared to other assassins of the same level, the Fraternity assassins are not just a little bit poor.
This can be seen from the weapons they use daily.
If they hadn't mastered the unscientific technique of bullet curving, they would just be an assassin organization with very limited funds.
In New York, you could easily find a dozen such assassin organizations with no money, no equipment, and not enough manpower.
"I have over three million US dollars and more than twenty High Table gold coins. As long as you kill Sloan, all of this is yours."
Alright!
Looks like you've been taking on a lot of private jobs!
The missions within the Fraternity have no pay, and a small textile factory couldn't possibly have very good employee benefits.
Killing for God is already an honor; talking about payment is too vulgar!
Cross being able to save up over three million US dollars and more than twenty High Table gold coins, it goes without saying that these were the rewards he got from taking private jobs.
"I'm not interested in what personal grudges you have with Sloan."
"But you should know, even if I accept your commission, after Sloan dies, you will also die."
Cross knew very well where the prefixes before Russell's assassin alias, 'Traveler', came from.
Over three million US dollars and more than twenty High Table gold coins were enough to buy Sloan's life.
But for the burning down of the office, Russell would definitely make him pay with his life.
This had nothing to do with whether the office being burned down was an accident. The moment he and the Punisher clashed in the office, it was destined that they would pay this price.
Because this was related to the notorious reputation Russell had deliberately built, and whether he could continue his ordinary, uneventful life.
Killing inside the Continental Hotel means being prepared to be killed by the hotel.
Although Russell's office didn't have such explicit rules, unwritten rules are still rules.
"I know! After Sloan dies, I will give you the reward and my life together!"
Cross said with a determined look.
Russell didn't speak, quickly thinking it over.
Although Cross didn't say it, he knew very well why Cross was doing this.
It was nothing more than to save his 'useless' son, Wesley, from the Fraternity.
Wesley clearly had the blood of a lion flowing in him, but Cross would rather Wesley be a sheep.
His fatherly love might be touching, but Russell didn't agree with this kind of thinking.
Wesley should decide for himself what kind of path to take.
Instead of suppressing his instincts, wearing a cuckold woven by his girlfriend and best friend together, sitting in a cubicle enduring workplace manipulation from a super overweight female boss.
This kind of life is safe, yes.
But it's also incredibly pathetic.
If Cross hadn't chosen this special 'fatherly love' of hiding next door and silently observing, Wesley wouldn't have been so easily fooled by the Fraternity.
So, in the end, the situation Cross was facing now was entirely his own doing.
"Pay the reward for killing Sloan first. As for your life, give it to me after Sloan is dead."
Russell stated his terms.
"Okay!"
Cross didn't bargain and agreed immediately.
"Then what are we waiting for, let's go!"
Russell got up directly.
"Now?"
Cross looked at Russell with some surprise.
"What, do you want Sloan to eat breakfast tomorrow before he dies?"
If something could be done today, Russell wouldn't put it off until tomorrow.
Besides, Diana was waiting for him to come back for dinner tonight.
...
Textile factory along the New Jersey coast.
Fraternity Headquarters.
Russell and Cross drove a car they had gotten casually and stopped on the street about a few hundred meters from the textile factory, looking at the factory with its gates tightly shut.
"How many assassins who can curve bullets are inside?"
Russell asked casually.
Although bullet curving was the Fraternity's signature technique, it didn't mean every assassin in the Fraternity could do it.
Bullet curving was like an advanced skill and an honor; only the elites who had been tested had the qualification to learn it.
As for the ability to control adrenaline autonomously, only people with special physiques could master it.
If he remembered correctly, only Cross and Mr. X in the entire Fraternity could do it.
As for Wesley, judging from when Cross betrayed the Fraternity, he was either being beaten by the Repairman or practicing bullet curving now.
To master the autonomous control of adrenaline, he still needed to practice diligently.
"Less than ten, including Sloan."
Cross replied quickly.
After speaking, he turned to look at Russell and continued, "How do you plan to do this?"
"Very simple, walk in through the front door, kill everyone I see until I take down Sloan."
Russell took out the HK P30L and Glock 26 he carried with him, released the safety, held one in each hand, and directly pushed the car door open and got out.
The Fraternity assassins, to ordinary people, were very strong.
To Russell, they were just so-so.
If there weren't any benefits to dealing with the Fraternity, he would have wanted to see the Fraternity's bullet curving technique long ago.
Wonder Woman's blessing gave him a physique far beyond that of normal people.
Coupled with Venom's abilities, confronting the Fraternity now was like having a dragon riding his face.
Wonder Woman's blessing and the Venom symbiote, these two rewards were awesome.
If Venom were replaced with Anti-Venom, it would be an absolute kill, but unfortunately, it couldn't be replaced.
But it didn't matter, riding the dragon on the face would also ensure he wouldn't lose.
Watching Russell walk towards the textile factory with a calm expression, Cross's expression became a little difficult to read.
With so many assassins in New York, he specifically sought out Russell not because Russell had a face like Azu, but because Russell was strong enough.
Although Russell had never publicly admitted it, the assassins in New York knew that he was a superhuman.
How could someone who could easily jump over ten or twenty meters high, lift a car with one hand, and run as fast as a sports car be an ordinary person?
A cold and beautiful female assassin like Perkins actively hooking up with him didn't just value his face and body, but also his extraordinary physique.
Cross didn't mind Russell wiping out the Fraternity, but the problem was, Wesley was also inside the textile factory now.
According to Russell's plan of killing everyone he saw, Wesley would most likely become a wronged soul under Russell's gun.