American comics: Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!.

Chapter 1137 Is this the youngest daughter's real name?
Half an hour ago, on the other side of the metropolis.

A two-story building with mottled exterior walls.

This is the headquarters of the "Blood Gang," a notorious gang haunt known for violence, drugs, and the horrific illegal trade in human organs.

Inside the hall, the music was deafening, mixed with shouts and curses from card games, clinking glasses, and vulgar laughter.

The air was filled with a mixture of smells from cigarettes, alcohol, marijuana, and body odor.

Just as the gang members were indulging in revelry, the sentry post on the outermost layer, which was connected to the inside by walkie-talkie, suddenly lost contact.

Carl, the "big guy" in charge of internal patrols, shouted a few times into the walkie-talkie, but only a crackling electrical noise came through before it went completely silent.

"what the hell?"

Carl cursed and gestured for the "skinny monkey" next to him to go and take a look.

The two men, grumbling and cursing, grabbed their coats and headed outside.

The people at the card table didn't pay much attention and continued their game.

A few minutes later, an unusual sound came from the direction of the iron gate leading to the outside area.

A few extremely short, muffled groans, as if forcibly choked in the throat, were followed by the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground.

Although the sound was very faint, it was still clearly heard by the few people closest to the door during the brief pause in the music.

"Karl? Skinny Monkey?" someone shouted.

no respond.

The music was turned off unconsciously.

The entire room fell into an eerie silence instantly.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked warily at the iron gate.

With a creak, the door was slowly pushed open.

There was no expected police charge, nor any suppressive fire from rival gangs.

There was only one figure standing in the doorway, against the dim light outside.

A girl?!

The strange girl, dressed in a clean white dress, looked like a lost rich girl, completely out of place in this dirty, testosterone-filled den.

The little girl's face was expressionless, and her golden eyes calmly swept over everyone in the hall in the dim light.

"Who the hell are you?"

A burly man with a fiery temper, nicknamed "The Butcher," stepped forward. "Where are Karl and the others?"

The girl didn't answer.

Her gaze fell on the "butcher," and then she pointed her finger at him.

With a loud thud, "Butcher" seemed to be struck by an invisible force, slamming heavily backward against the wall before slowly falling to the ground.

A deathly silence descended instantly.

Fear, like an icy tide, instantly overwhelmed everyone present.

"Damn it! Kill her!"

Someone shouted at the top of their lungs.

The gunmen, now awakened, raised their weapons.

However, just before everyone pulled the trigger, an indescribable force suddenly descended.

The gang members' fingers were frozen on the triggers; no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't pull them down even a fraction.

The bodies of the group were bound by invisible shackles, unable to move, as if trapped in the deepest nightmare. They were conscious, but had lost all control over their bodies.

They could see the same fear and confusion on their companions' faces, and they could hear their own hearts pounding wildly, but they couldn't even move a little finger.

The red-haired little girl began to stroll around the hall.

Walking past the gunmen who stood frozen like statues was like walking in my own backyard.

Then, their bodies began to move against their own will and act on their own.

As if an unseen hand was manipulating puppets, the shooters' legs bent uncontrollably, and one after another, they knelt down in the open space in the center of the hall.

Several people's arms were forcibly twisted behind their backs by a force, crossed, and their wrists were tightly bound together by something unseen, causing them pain.

The next second, the shooters were plunged into darkness—rough strips of cloth covered their eyes, completely robbing them of their sight.

All they could hear were the fearful breaths of their companions and themselves.

The little girl continued walking inside.

"Oh!"

Then, from a deeper room, came screams and the sound of heavy objects falling to the ground.

Without a doubt, it was the gang members inside who were dealt with by this little girl.

After half an hour.

The air was thick with the stench of blood.

In the center of the hall, decorated with extravagant gold trim and scarlet velvet, stood Machima.

Machima's white dress formed a startling contrast with the luxurious surroundings and the pervasive terror.

Meanwhile, a few dark red bloodstains dotted her fair, jade-like cheeks.

The bodies of several gang members were scattered on the carpet at the entrance.

Before her, men knelt in neat rows, their eyes covered and their hands tied behind their backs.

After clearing out the gang members in the deeper room, Machima returned to the guys she had tied up at the beginning.

These men, usually feared thugs in the neighborhood, were now trembling uncontrollably like lambs to the slaughter.

These gang members could hear their comrades' heavy, fearful breathing and smell the fresh scent of blood in the air, but they had no idea what was happening.

The fear of the unknown gripped their hearts, tightening ever more.

Machima's golden, round eyes calmly swept over the group of prisoners kneeling on the ground.

Her gaze first fell on the burly man closest to her.

Even with his eyes covered, you could still see the thick lines on his face and the menacing tattoos on his neck.

Without any ceremonial announcement, Machima simply raised her chin slightly, gracefully clasped her hands together in front of her chest, her fingertips touching.

She whispered a name in a voice only she could hear:
"William Hank".

A name is the medium of a contract, the coordinates of the soul.

When Machima, with her power to "control demons," clearly utters the true name of an individual she has "marked," an invisible chain that transcends space is instantly established.

Immediately afterwards, she casually rubbed her clasped hands together.

At the same time, terrifying things were happening in the abandoned factory workshop on the other side.

The Blood Gang member who had just recovered slightly from his fear and was about to sneak toward the door was none other than William Hank.

The horrific images of Tony being crushed and his companions having their heads blown off were still replaying in his mind, and the instinct for survival drove him to wriggle his body.

Just as Machima began rubbing her hands together.

"Oh!"

The piercing sound overwhelmed all his thoughts.

William Hank didn't even have time to feel the pain before his entire head collapsed and was squeezed inward in an instant.

It was as if a hand existing in a higher dimension had easily crushed it, like squeezing a ripe strawberry.

A mixture of red and white substances suddenly gushed out, forming a cloud of blood mist.

William Hank's body then convulsed violently before collapsing to the ground, joining his companions in their deaths.

Almost at the same moment that William Hank died in the factory.

Inside the Blood Gang headquarters hall, the burly man kneeling before Machima suddenly stiffened, as if struck by an invisible electric current.

Without even uttering a groan, the burly man collapsed forward to the ground, his heart abruptly stopping in his chest, and his life force vanishing instantly.

A criminal's life is exchanged for a "real name judgment" that is not limited by distance.

These are the rules governing the abilities that Machima is currently using.

Instead of directly using her power to attack the distant target, Makima forcibly linked the life energy of a "sacrifice" (criminal) with the essential existence of the "target" (an individual who knows its true name) through a contract that was almost an "equivalent exchange." Then she "severed" this link, causing the target's physical form to collapse.

This attack acts directly on existence itself, ignoring conventional physical defenses, distance, and even most energy barriers. The other kneeling members, though blindfolded, could hear the dull thuds of their fallen comrades and the instantaneous aura of death spreading around them.

Fear spread like a plague among the crowd; some began to sob quietly, some chattered, and some had foul-smelling fluid seeping from their bodies.

Machima ignored all of this.

She calmly walked up to the second tall, thin man.

With her hands clasped together once more, Machima's posture remained elegant, as if she were performing some kind of sacred ritual.

John Griffiths.

The name is uttered softly, and the contract is renewed.

Rub your hands together gently.

"Oh!"

In the factory workshop, another Blood Gang member, who had just struggled to his feet and tried to retrieve the pistol that had fallen into the pool of blood, suddenly had his entire upper body explode as if detonated from the inside by an invisible bomb.

The bright red substance was splashed in a ring shape, turning the already dirty walls and equipment nearby into an even more horrifying color.

Inside the headquarters lobby, the tall, thin man standing in front of Machima collapsed, lifeless.

Now, only one "sacrifice" remains.

Machima walked up to the third kneeling man.

Looking at the other person's chest heaving violently with fear, Machima's golden eyes remained completely unmoved.

With a slight tilt of her head, Machima's gaze seemed to penetrate the thick walls of the warehouse and reach into the distance.

The crows perched on the rusty steel frames outside the abandoned factory window had already connected with Machima's vision.

Therefore, Machima can now see everything happening inside the factory, and naturally she also sees Bart and the unconscious Lex.

Machima’s ability to use small animals for surveillance is one of her innate abilities.

She can control small animals such as rats, crows, and frogs, using them as her "mobile eyes and ears" to build a surveillance network covering the entire city and even across borders.

Through these small animals, she can accurately eavesdrop on her targets' conversations and obtain various kinds of intelligence.

In the original story, when Denji and Reise were alone at school at night, their conversation was completely overheard by Makima through small animals. Her line, "I also like country mice," indirectly confirmed her control over the eavesdropping.

This is one of the reasons why Machima was able to overhear Peter's conversation without being discovered.

No matter how careful Peter was, he couldn't have imagined that there was a mouse eavesdropping on him in the corner outside, and that this mouse was his youngest daughter's spy.

Through the crow's blurry, deathly vision, Machima saw the scene inside the factory workshop.

Victor Boot, the mob boss, was now crawling up from the pool of blood, still shaken.

The man's face and body were covered in the blood and brains splattered from his men. His gold-rimmed glasses were nowhere to be seen, and his face was filled with the most primal, animalistic fear.

Victor staggered, not daring to even look at the horribly shaped corpses on the ground, let alone pay attention to Bart, who stood frozen in shock and fear.

escape!
That was the only thought in his mind.

Trembling, Victor pulled out his phone, his fingers stained with blood, and clumsily tried to unlock the screen, wanting to contact headquarters and mobilize the power he thought he could still control.

"I...I am Victor..."

Victor's voice was hoarse, filled with the lingering fear of surviving a close call, "Immediately..."

Machima withdrew some of her gaze from the crow and refocused on the gang member kneeling in front of her.

She clasped her hands together again, facing the man before her who was about to become a "sacrifice," and also facing Victor in the distance who was making a phone call, and clearly uttered the name that would decide life and death:
“Victor Booth”.

The clasped hands, like the gavel of final judgment, are gently rubbed together.

"Bang!!"

In the distant factory workshop, Victor's voice came to an abrupt halt.

The phone slipped from his hand and fell with a thud into the pool of blood.

Victor felt as if he had been hit head-on by an invisible truck; his chest caved in, his ribs pierced his back, and blood gushed from his mouth.

His body was thrown backward in a twisting arc, crashing heavily against the cold wall before sliding to the ground and falling silent.

Inside the headquarters lobby, the gang members kneeling before Machima simultaneously lost all life and collapsed forward.

The entire hall fell into a deathly silence, with only Machima's soft breathing remaining.

Machima walked expressionlessly past the corpse on the ground and headed towards an alloy safe embedded in the wall at the back of the hall.

Extending her finger, Machima's fingertip gently traced the outline of the metal cabinet door.

Using the runes her father taught her, Machima inscribed them onto the cabinet door.

The runes shimmered with a faint light, flowing across the cabinet door like living things, resonating with the mechanical structure and electronic lock core inside the safe.

A few seconds later, with a soft "click," the safe door opened by itself.

Inside the cabinet, stacks of large-denomination US dollars, gleaming gold bars, and some well-packaged drugs were neatly arranged.

Machima did not linger on these worldly riches.

Her gaze fell upon an inconspicuous black-covered notebook on the top shelf.

Reaching out, Machima took out the notebook.

Opening the notebook, Machima discovered that it contained records of transactions using passwords and codes, including the time, place, amount, goods (often living human organs), and the person in charge of the transaction.

More importantly, the later pages of the ledger clearly recorded some aliases and code names, with their positions in government, police departments, and even medical institutions noted next to them, as well as the kickbacks and protection they received from the "Blood Gang".

As Machima read through the lines, her golden, round eyes finally showed a slight change, and her brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Machima's furrowed brow was not due to moral indignation.

Although Machima's personality improved a lot thanks to Peter's positive energy.

But now she frowned because she realized that this seemingly simple gang organization was far more deeply entrenched than she had imagined.

These documented "respectable people," once their deeds are exposed, will do many unpredictable things to protect themselves, which may interfere with her or affect her father, thereby destroying her currently comfortable "family" environment.

However, this notebook can be put to use.

Machima closed the ledger and carefully put it away.

With this, the people on the list, in a sense, have already fallen under her "control".

After taking one last look around the hall filled with death and fear, Machima turned, stepped over the sticky bloodstains, and left the bloody lair.

A faint trail of bloodstains stretched behind the hem of her white dress.

Just as Machima was passing through a narrow corridor, her steps paused almost imperceptibly for half a second.

At the end of the corridor was a heavy, reinforced iron door with a small window that could only be used to pass food through.

A faint sob could be heard coming from behind the door.

Machima turned toward the iron gate.

She saw several girls inside, most likely "goods" that the Blood Gang hadn't yet processed—living people who had been stripped of their identities and freedom, waiting to be dismantled and sold.

She turned to leave, knowing the fate of these people was none of her concern.

But after hesitating for a moment, Machima still reached out her hand.

The heavy iron door, locked from the outside, had its metal bolt inside the lock seemingly moved by an invisible force, and with a "click," it slid open on its own.

After making this insignificant gesture, Machima continued walking towards the exit without looking back, her figure quickly disappearing into the dim light outside the door.

Inside the iron gate, several young girls, their faces gaunt and huddled in a corner, were startled by the sudden sound of the door opening.

To the girls' surprise, there were no shouts, no footsteps, and none of the demonic faces they had expected.

Only a strong, nauseating smell of blood rushed in from the open doorway, instantly filling the small cell.

The instinct for survival ultimately prevailed over fear.

A slightly bolder girl used all her strength to slowly move to the door.

She cautiously peeked out and looked outside.

The sight outside instantly stunned her!

The lavishly decorated hall, which originally symbolized gangster authority and extravagance, has now been transformed into a bloodbath.

The corpses lay scattered in various corners of the hall, and the overwhelming stench of blood was almost tangible, seeping into every pore of the girls' skin and making them dizzy.

The girls huddled together, shivering, their teeth chattering uncontrollably.

Who opened the door?!
(End of this chapter)