Chapter 209: The Shadow General Cultivation Project
"God bless! God bless!" The veteran cop was praying fervently. He planned to let his colleagues charge in first while he stayed safely at the rear.
John, watching his fellow officers rush forward, shouted anxiously at the veteran, "Captain, it's our turn! We should go!"
John still possessed a sense of discipline; without the Captain's order, he had to hold his position.
"Wait, John. I understand you—young people are impulsive—but this is no joke. Let's wait just a bit longer." The veteran checked his gear one last time to ensure everything was perfect. Finally, he raised his gun and roared, "Now! Let's go!"
John shot out instantly. He had been itching for this. He wore his police uniform over his gear to prevent friendly fire from his colleagues. After all, he wasn't Spider-Man with global fame; dressed all in black, he looked more like a villain than a hero.
"Woohoo!" Using his incredible leg strength, John leaped directly to the second floor, shattering a window as he kicked his way through. He was the first one inside the building.
"Someone's inside! Fire!" The terrorists immediately spotted John in his uniform and opened fire.
Rat-tat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat-tat!
John watched the bullets flying from all directions. He could actually track their trajectories, his agile body weaving through the hail of lead. He lunged at a terrorist, landing a punch to the head that sent the man crashing to the ground.
He followed up with a side flip to dodge a burst from behind, snatched a dropped rifle from the floor, and crouched. "Time to taste your own lead, scumbags!"
Bang! Bang! Bang! Four or five thugs took hits to the chest and went down. Unlike Spider-Man, John didn't have a "no-kill" rule; these terrorists deserved no mercy.
Click! Click!
John pulled the trigger and found the gun empty. He tossed it aside and spread his hands. "Alright, I'm out. Any of you want to lend me a gun?"
The only response was another rain of bullets. John flipped behind an office desk and drew his standard-issue police pistol. "In the end, you're the only one I can rely on, buddy," he said, kissing the barrel.
High Above
"Need a hand, fellas?!" Peter shouted as he swung past a gunship on a web line.
Inside the chopper, the pilot chuckled. "The big guy's here."
"Is this some kind of counter-terrorism drill, Silas? Will we be getting in their way?" Peter asked as he landed on the side of the building and began to crawl upward.
"Peter, more doing, less talking," Silas said, sounding exasperated.
"Right... sorry. I just can't keep my mouth shut." Peter used his thermal imaging to scan the interior. According to the police chatter, there were dozens of hostages held inside.
"Look! It's Spider-Man!" officers below shouted, pointing at the wall-crawler.
As for Silas, he was already standing on the roof. No terrorists were stationed here because they would be easy pickings for the snipers in the gunships. Silas calmly walked from the roof into the stairwell and headed down.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of his footsteps echoed. The terrorists on the lower landing turned toward the stairs. "Did the cops drop from the choppers to the roof?" They had anticipated this and had rigged the mid-level stairs with explosives.
Just as Silas was about to step onto the next flight, a strong sense of danger flashed in his mind. He pulled his foot back.
Clang! Clang!
Black armor plates flew out from Silas's shadow, assembling themselves onto his body. In an instant, the Blacklight Suit was fully deployed.
"Are there bombs?" Silas asked. Alpha immediately scanned the area and highlighted the hidden explosives. Silas smirked, and his entire body dissolved into the shadows.
BOOM! The stairwell exploded, sending debris cascading downward.
"Hahaha! These cops are a joke!"
"Exactly. Let's finish the job and go celebrate."
The terrorists were busy mocking the police's incompetence.
"What's so funny?" A low, demonic voice spoke from behind them.
The terrorists broke into a cold sweat. They spun around to see a man in black metallic armor sitting in a boardroom chair, leisurely brewing tea.
"When did he get in here?!" they cried in terror.
"Who cares when! Kill him!" The others didn't care about the details and opened fire.
Silas didn't act like John; he simply sat there. The bullets rained down on him, but every single one was deflected by the hardened Blacklight armor.
Clink! One stray bullet shattered the teacup in front of Silas.
"I was planning to drink that," Silas said coldly.
Shing! Shing! Shing!
Behind Silas, a mass of darkness crawled up the walls like a living ink, and countless red eyes ignited in the gloom.
"What is that thing?!" a terrorist screamed in pure terror.
"I remember now... it's Destiny! It's Destiny!" one of them shouted, having recognized the legendary hero.
At that moment, the Shadow Ninjas lunged from the darkness. Bullets had no effect on them either—these were the elite Shadow Knight Corps.
"Master, your tea." Little Black brewed a fresh cup and placed it respectfully before Silas.
Silas slowly closed his eyes. He ignored the screams of the terrorists echoing through the room until the noise abruptly stopped.
"Exactly five minutes," Silas said. His mask retracted as he picked up the tea, blew on it, and took a sip. "Mmm~ not bad."
The tea was meticulously cultivated by Little Black in the Shadow Kingdom. It was infused with the dark energy of that realm, making it a delicacy for those who belonged to the shadows.
If a normal person drank it, they would be corrupted into a monster—not a Shadow Ninja, but a mindless, ghoul-like creature that hungered for flesh. However, for someone with a constitution like Peter's, it would likely just cause a stomach ache.
"I am glad you are pleased, Master," Little Black said, his eyes gleaming.
"How is the Shadow General Cultivation Project coming along?" Silas asked.
"Two generals are currently being cultivated. If you wish to speed up the process, Master, you can harvest the results now." Little Black thought Silas was getting impatient for the outcome.
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