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

Chapter 1138 Machima: Daddy, I already have a dog

In the open space outside the abandoned factory, Bart staggered out of the gate.

After escaping this blood-soaked, hellish place, he greedily inhaled the relatively "clean" air outside.

However, the icy air that filled his lungs did not dispel the chill in his bones.

Holding onto the rusty door frame, Bart's legs went weak, and he almost collapsed to his knees.

The scene inside the workshop kept replaying in his mind: collapsed heads, bursting flesh, twisted limbs, and the terrified and desperate eyes of these gangsters before they died...

Every scene was thick with the color of blood, assaulting his senses.

Barthes found his pride in his speed to be utterly ridiculous and powerless in the face of these incomprehensible, instantaneous deaths.

He had never felt so vulnerable.

All he wanted now was to escape this place, to leave this hell as quickly as possible, and to leave it all far behind.

Just as he struggled to stand up straight, preparing to transform into lightning and escape...

A clear, crisp female voice rang out from not far behind him.

Are you Bart?

Upon hearing the voice, Bart's muscles tensed instantly, and he whirled around.

Right next to the doorway he had just rushed out of, a petite figure stood quietly.

The girl wore a clean white dress, had long red hair, and her fair and delicate face was adorned with a few drops of congealed dark red blood.

The other person had their hands behind their back, appearing somewhat relaxed.

Bart stared at the girl who had suddenly appeared, and was instantly stunned.

He had no idea when the girl had appeared.

Bart's gaze involuntarily swept over the bloodstains on her face, then quickly glanced at the entrance behind her that reeked of blood.

A normal girl could never maintain such terrifying calm in such a place.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry and sore. "Who...who are you?"

Machima seemed completely oblivious to Bart's shock.

She maintained her hands behind her back, tilted her head slightly, and introduced herself in a flat, emotionless tone:
“I am Machima Padreik. Daughter of Peter Padreik.”

Patrick?

Bart's mind raced; he vaguely remembered the surname.

Although he did not participate in the coalition during the previous Barbatos invasion, he had heard that the coalition that defeated Barbatos was organized by the Padric family.

Before he could figure it out, Machima continued talking.

“You stole something that didn’t belong to you, and now my dad is watching you.”

Machima's golden eyes were fixed on Bart. "Now, even if you leave here, with my father's abilities, he will find you. He is one of the most powerful beings in this world, and you cannot escape."

Bart's heart sank when he heard what the other person said.

He had witnessed Clark's speed and strength, and this alien already made him feel overwhelmed. The man who was supposedly the leader of the Padrick Alliance probably had far more energy than he imagined.

Machima seemed to read his mind. She raised a finger and gently pointed to the factory behind her, her tone unchanged: "Besides, you can't explain these bodies here to anyone. The police will be here soon."

As if to confirm her words, a clear and piercing siren sounded from afar.

The sound grew closer and closer, like a tightening noose, causing Bart's breath to catch in his throat.

Although he could run away immediately, the girl in front of him probably wouldn't let him leave easily.

“Listen,” Machima continued calmly, “they’re here.”

She lowered her hands, put them behind her back again, and took a small step forward.

This subtle movement startled Bart, causing him to instinctively take a half-step back.

"Now, you have two choices in front of you."

Machima's golden eyes gleamed faintly in the darkening sky.

"First, sign a contract with me. In exchange, I will ensure that my father will no longer pursue your theft, and I will clean up the mess here so that you will not be implicated in anything."

Bart's heart skipped a beat when he heard Machima's words.

Sign a contract?

And this girl with blood on her face, who appeared at the crime scene, and who was eerily calm?

“Or,” Machima’s lips parted slightly, uttering a second option.

"You can choose to refuse, and then, like those people inside, you'll suffer the same fate."

Like the people inside...

Images of a crushed head and an exploding skull flashed through Bart's mind in an instant.

These images eventually converged into the bloodstained, expressionless face of the girl before us.

is her!

She did it!

A chill ran from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, chilling Bart's heart.

Those bizarre and extremely cruel deaths were actually committed by this seemingly harmless girl.

What kind of monster is she?!
Bart was in a state of utter shock.

The sirens grew closer, and flashing blue and red lights could be faintly seen moving along the road in the distance.

Time was running out. He either had to escape immediately, facing pursuit by Peter Patrick and a police warrant (he had no doubt that Machima could frame him), or...

Sign a contract with this strange girl.

Bart looked at Machima.

The girl remained standing there, calmly awaiting his reply.

Barth immediately fell into an internal struggle.

He possesses extraordinary speed and can try to defeat the girl in front of him.

But since the opponent possesses an unbelievable ability to blow one's head off, she might be able to blow one up before one can act.

Moreover, even if this girl is defeated, her father is still standing behind her.

Barth's inner struggle was as fierce as a storm.

After a short while, under the pressure of reality, the struggle finally subsided.

Bart took a deep breath, trying to suppress the unease in his voice.

"...What contract?"

He heard his own dry voice ask.

Machima's lips curved slightly upwards.

She didn't answer immediately, but instead extended her right hand, which had been behind her back.

Machima's palms were fair, her fingers slender, and her nails were neatly trimmed.

Under Bart's gaze, she extended the index finger of her left hand, and her nail seemed to become exceptionally sharp in an instant, gleaming with a metallic luster.

Machima used her sharp fingertips to gently cut the palm of her right hand.

Not much blood flowed out; only a clear, eerily red thin line appeared on her fair palm.

The bright red blood seemed to be alive, flowing slightly.

“It’s very simple,” Machima raised her right hand, which was flowing with an eerie red color, with her palm facing Bart. “Place your hand in mine, promise to obey me, and dedicate your power and your loyalty to me. From now on, your existence will be linked to my will.”

Bart looked at Machima's hand, the hand that had just easily taken several lives, and now it was extending an invitation to him.

The thin red line on the palm, like a spying eye, exudes an ominous aura.

The sirens were almost right next to our ears, and the blinding flashlights illuminated the ruins surrounding the factory.

No time!
Bart gritted his teeth, a hint of humiliation flashing in his eyes.

He slowly raised his right hand.

Finally, Bart's palm covered Machima's cut palm. The moment their hands touched, Bart's whole body trembled violently.

He did not feel the expected pain or the powerful energy surge.

On the contrary, an extremely eerie feeling spread along the point of contact.

It felt as if countless tiny threads were silently piercing his body along his arm, wrapping around his bones, and seeping into his blood.

There is an invisible yet strong "shackle" that has formed at the conceptual level.

Bart could still feel his speed, but he had a clear intuition that from now on, his speed, his power, everything about him, no longer belonged entirely to him.

If the girl in front of him were willing, a single thought would be enough to take everything away from him.

Machima felt the slight tremor of life force emanating from her palm, and a hint of satisfaction flashed in her eyes.

She gently closed her fingers, not to grasp Bart's hand, but as if grasping the newly established, invisible chain of domination.

"The contract is established."

Machima released his hand, and Bart quickly withdrew his hand as if he had been burned, subconsciously looking at his palm.

Although there were no marks on his palm, he knew that some things had changed forever.

"Now."

Machima turned to the approaching police car lights, her tone returning to its previous calm, "Leave here. When I need you, I will naturally find you."

Bart gave her a deep look, as if he wanted to etch the image of this red-haired, golden-eyed "devil" into the depths of his soul.

Without further hesitation, he unleashed a dazzling burst of electricity, transforming into a bolt of lightning that vanished from the factory, leaving only a faint trace of electric arcs that quickly dissipated in the night wind.

Machima stood there, listening to the police cars stop outside the factory and the tense shouts of the police officers.

She raised her hand and gently wiped away the few dried bloodstains on her cheek, her movements elegant and composed.

Turning around to face the flashing lights of the police cars, Machima walked into the factory.

Using the vision provided by the crows, she was already quite familiar with the factory environment, so leaving was not a problem.

Moreover, she has now signed a contract with Bart, allowing her to separate chains from herself and connect with the contracted person, using the contractor's abilities.

In other words, Makima can now use Bart's extreme speed ability.

The next day.

The autumn sun, with just the right amount of warmth, shines on the golden haystacks, red barns, and white fences of Patrick Farm.

The air was filled with the fragrance of hay, soil, and ripe crops.

Beside the barn, a tall ladder leans against the eaves.

Peter was standing at the upper middle of the ladder, carefully dealing with a huge wasp nest built between an old rainproof board and a roof plank.

The gray, paper-ball-shaped thing was about two feet in diameter and was squeezed into an irregular shape because of the cramped space.

The surface of the honeycomb was densely covered with large, brown and yellow bumblebees.

These wasps were quite large and emitted a low, menacing buzz.

"Dad, be careful!"

Below, Mordred and her golden retriever Murphy are rolling around and chasing each other on the grass.

Murphy stuck out his tongue and wagged his tail like a whirlwind, repeatedly retrieving the ball Mordred threw, eliciting bursts of cheerful, bell-like laughter from the girl.

Machima stood quietly not far from the ladder, her gaze following Murphy's joyful running figure.

Peter, on the ladder, noticed his little daughter's quiet and focused gaze.

Following her gaze, Peter's eyes fell on Murphy, who was jumping into Mordred's arms and wagging his tail vigorously.

A thought struck him: in the original story, Machima seemed to have a particular interest in small animals.

In the original story, Makima kept quite a few dogs.

These dogs were all very close to Machima, and after Machima's death, they were all adopted by Denji.

"Machima".

Peter carefully brushed aside a few sluggish wasps that tried to approach with his gloved hands, and asked her gently, "Seeing Murphy so happy, do you also want to get a puppy of your own?"

Machima seemed to be awakened from her distant thoughts.

She slowly raised her head, looked at her father on the ladder, and a shy smile bloomed on her face.

"No need, Dad."

Tilting her head slightly, Machima's golden eyes shone like two pools of melting honey in the sunlight as she added a meaningful remark: "I already have a dog."

Peter was about to use his long-handled tool to pry open the edge of the honeycomb when he heard this and he froze.

"...?"

What do you mean by "you already have"?
How come I have no idea when this happened?
Besides Murphy, there are no other dogs on the farm. Where did the little girl get her dog from?

Machima did not give her father a chance to ask further questions.

The smile on her face quickly transformed into a positive and considerate expression of wanting to share her father's burdens.

Walking quickly to the bottom of the ladder, Machima looked up with her little face, her eyes full of concern and eagerness: "Daddy, this beehive looks troublesome. Let me help you. What should I do?"

Machima cleverly shifted the topic, drawing Peter's attention away from the perplexing statement that "we already have a dog" and back to the "common task" at hand.

Seeing his daughter's enthusiastic expression, Peter temporarily suppressed his doubts.

Peter coughed and directed, "Okay, help Dad hold the ladder steady, then hand me this insecticide nozzle, yes, the red one."

Machima did as she was told, deftly handing the insecticide to Peter.

Holding onto the ladder, Machima looked up at Peter as he worked, her eyes focused, as if she were learning something extremely important.

The honeycomb was stubbornly stuck in the gap.

Peter carefully sprayed the insecticide, watching the already sluggish wasps become even more lethargic, and couldn't help but feel a little emotional.

He turned his head and said to Machima below, "You know what? Machima, I've known how powerful these guys are since I was a kid. I got stung once when I was a kid, while raiding bird nests. It swelled up for days and hurt terribly. I still feel lingering fear when I think about it now. Luckily, the weather is cool today and they're not very active. If I were doing this in the middle of summer, it would be a nightmare."

Peter described to his daughter a scene from the height of summer when he was a child, where he was attacked by a dozen fierce wasps and nearly fell from a height in a panic.

Then, as if remembering something, Peter continued, “I think I read somewhere—maybe some weekend supplement or scrap of a magazine—that about 7% of fatal car accidents are completely inexplicable by conventional causes. It’s not that the car broke down, it’s not speeding or drunk driving, it’s not the weather, it’s just that on a deserted road, the car suddenly flips over, the driver dies, and nobody knows what happened.”

Machima, holding onto the ladder, listened intently, her golden eyes unblinking.

Peter sprayed some water to scare away a few wasps that tried to approach, and then said, "The article interviewed a state trooper who speculated that the culprit behind these 'headless car accidents' is likely some small insect in the car, such as a wasp, a bee, or even a spider or a moth."

"The driver was startled or stung, and in a panic, he tried to swat it or open the window to chase it out. As a result, he lost control instantly, and 'bang!' Everything was over. Meanwhile, the little bug that caused the trouble was usually unharmed, buzzing happily as it flew out of the smoking wreckage to find its next paradise."

"So, honey, be careful when you see this thing in the future."

Peter originally intended to warn Machima about wasps, but the story seemed to greatly pique Machima's curiosity.

Just as Peter was about to take the next step and use the bag to cover the beehive...

He saw Machima suddenly extend her slender, pale right hand, which was not holding the ladder, and reach out unprotected, straight towards a large bumblebee that was lying on a nearby wooden board.

Peter: "?!"

His heart nearly skipped a beat from the shock.

What is this brat trying to do?

Peter practically slid down the ladder, grabbed Machima's wrist, and yanked her hand away from the dangerous bumblebee.

Peter nervously examined her hands and arms, his voice tinged with lingering fear: "I told you not to touch this thing, it stings a lot!"

Machima let her father hold her hand. She raised her head, her face showing no panic at having done something wrong, nor any fear of being frightened. Instead, there was a subtle expression of satisfaction on her face.

Seeing Peter's anxious and worried face, Machima explained softly, "Dad, I didn't mean to, I just... wanted to try."

"try what?"

Peter paused, his brow furrowing.

"Try getting stung by a wasp and see what it feels like."

Machima's eyes were clear, and her tone was frank. "I want to experience what it felt like when you were stung as a child, Dad. That way, I can understand you a little better and get closer to you."

(End of this chapter)