The road to heaven is open, yet you refuse to take it; the gates of hell are closed, yet you insist on barging in..." Emil had no good solution for someone so determined to court death. He suppressed the anger in his heart and opened the door.
A burly man, weighing at least two hundred pounds, stumbled in, a wine bottle in one hand and a silver pistol in the other.
The residents in the hallway, seeing Old Babu enter Emil's home, quietly hid in the shadows and made the sign of God's blessing for the poor siblings.
Drunk on too much whiskey, Old Babu's eyes were bleary, and he staggered to the dining table and sat down. He looked at Emil and chuckled, "Little fellow, you're home alone, huh? Where's your sister, Kathleen? Tell her Old Babu is here, and she'd better come out and serve me."
As a seasoned thug, Old Babu knew Hell's Kitchen like the back of his own hand—if his house had a backyard, that is. He had long lusted after Kathleen, the great beauty living in Hell's Kitchen.
However, his organization usually managed its members very strictly. Without an order from the Big Boss, no one dared to cause trouble in the apartment building.
It was strange, but what appeared to outsiders as the chaotic, hellish Manhattan actually had its own set of underground rules. As long as these rules were followed, even an ordinary person could live there safely. If these rules were transgressed even slightly, even Daredevil would face ostracization and pursuit.
Today was an exception. The mission Old Babu received from the Big Boss was to drive out all the residents in this apartment building. With such an order, Old Babu felt as if he was free to do anything.
Hearing that scoundrel mention his sister again, Emil felt it was a defilement. He gritted his teeth and said fiercely, "What did you say? I didn't hear you clearly!"
Even though he was thoroughly drunk, Old Babu was genuinely surprised. He rubbed his eyes, unable to believe that the infamous coward Emil from Hell's Kitchen was standing before him.
Being reprimanded by a coward, Old Babu immediately became enraged. He slammed the pistol on the table, his finger nearly poking Emil's mouth:
"You little brat, let me tell you, don't think that just because that scumbag Kirkley used to protect your family, you can be insolent in front of Old Babu. Do you know, Kirkley has already been personally taken care of by our Big Boss. You dare to talk to me like this, be careful or I'll..."
Emil searched his mind. Hell's Kitchen was not a monolith; it was divided into several factions. His sister, Kathleen, had managed to establish herself and him in Hell's Kitchen, seemingly with the care of one of these factions.
Kirkley, whom Old Babu claimed his Big Boss had eliminated, was a member of that faction, probably holding a similar position to Old Babu in his own faction.
Emil shook his head, somewhat troubled. How muddled was this body when it was alive? Every time it came to something crucial, he would draw a blank. Regarding the organization that had always looked after him and his sister Kathleen, he only had a vague impression in his mind.
He was somewhat annoyed, half because of Old Babu, and half because this body had been so useless in its previous life. Emil reached out and pushed away Old Babu's jabbing finger, asking curiously, "What can you do to me if I talk like this?"
"Be careful or I'll..."
Old Babu had only said half of his threat when he suddenly froze. He couldn't believe that the notorious coward Emil dared to speak to him like this. Wasn't he supposed to be just a bookworm focused on studying? Walking down the street, people would even crumple up Byron's poems and kick them at his head.
Such a useless brat, if it weren't for Kirkley's secret care, he would have been ambushed by hooligans somewhere long ago.
But what was going on today? Kirkley was dead now.
Old Babu truly couldn't understand what gave Emil the confidence to speak to him like this... Emil smiled faintly, "What, do you have nothing to say? Well then, you won't need to speak anymore." He slowly took a step back, ghostly flames flickering in his eyes: "I died twice for no reason, and I'm bottling up an evil fire, not knowing where to unleash it. Old Babu, you are very lucky to have come to my domain..."
"Inner World, place of cursed grievance!" Emil crossed his arms over his chest, then suddenly spread them wide. Ink-black mist instantly rippled out from around him like water.
Learning from last night's lesson, this time, Emil, while conscious, took the initiative and carefully confined the power of the grievance within his room.
Fear appeared on Old Babu's face. An inexplicable chill rose from the soles of his feet to his heart. In this small apartment suite, space and time were distorted, uncontrolled by natural laws, inverted and chaotic.
Emil did not make a move; dealing with such powerless ordinary people didn't require him to exert himself further. What he was more concerned about now was that ever since his resurrection into this World, his temperament seemed to have changed.
It was true; in his previous life, he had simply wanted to visit a museum to see the spear of longinus, harming no one, yet he suffered a sudden death. And this current body was even more wronged, dying without ever knowing why it died.
The accumulated resentment from these two hateful deaths was indeed, as Emil said, lingering deep in his heart. No one could maintain a balanced mindset after being killed twice.
If Old Babu hadn't uttered such foul words, defiling his sister Kathleen and triggering the outburst of resentment in Emil's heart, Emil probably wouldn't have noticed this subtle psychological change for a long time.
Even though it was buried in the deepest part of his heart, over time, through imperceptible influence, Emil wasn't confident he could always maintain a normal state of mind.
It's worth noting that even with Superman's powers, this World, besides Superheroes, also had various Super-criminals active. These Super-criminals fell because they couldn't control the darkness within their hearts.
Speaking of inner darkness, whether it's naturally mutated Mutants, or artificially enhanced Super-Soldiers and Iron Man, who could compare to Emil, who possessed a Wraith Body?
To put it plainly, Emil wasn't simply psychologically dark; his very existence was a collection of negative energy. Although he appeared to be an ordinary mortal flesh-and-blood body, with just a thought from Emil, he could instantly and freely transform into a Vengeful Ghost spirit!