Without a word, Ethan raised his rifle and pulled the trigger, aiming right at Francis. He hadn't handled a gun before, but he'd checked the safety and knew the basics of firing.
Unfortunately, he underestimated Francis's speed.
Just as Ethan pulled the trigger, Francis, his face a mix of rage and shock, struck out, slamming his hand down on the rifle and redirecting the shot into the ground.
"So fast…"
Before Ethan could react, a fist came flying toward him. Instinctively, he raised his arms to block, but as the punch connected, he felt his bones strain under the impact, the sheer force more than he could withstand. This wasn't ordinary strength.
Francis, the overseer of this mutant slave factory, was no ordinary human; he was a mutant, with enhanced physical prowess and no pain receptors—a brutal advantage in any fight. Even Wade had struggled to fight him.
Despite the pain, Ethan kept his grip on the rifle, which seemed to surprise Francis. Scowling, Francis delivered another bone-crushing punch. Ethan staggered but didn't back down. Instead, he threw himself forward, trying to knock Francis off balance with his weight.
But Francis anticipated his move, bracing himself and absorbing the impact effortlessly. Then, with a swift motion, he raised his foot and kicked Ethan hard in the stomach.
Boom!
The kick sent Ethan flying, crashing into a group of guards who were still battling Wade, unaware of the chaos behind them. Wincing from the pain, Ethan scrambled to his feet, clutching his stomach.
"My fellow Goons, this test subject has backup!" he shouted, addressing the guards. "Forget morals! Everyone, shoot him!"
Acting quickly, Ethan raised his rifle and aimed at Francis. Seeing Ethan in uniform, the guards didn't question him. They turned their guns toward Francis and began firing.
Francis ducked down, roaring in frustration. "For god's sake, it's me, you idiots! Stop shooting!"
The guards hesitated, glancing at one another in confusion.
Ethan feigned shock. "Wait a second… Francis is an undercover agent? He's been pretending to be our boss this whole time?"
The guards stared in disbelief, and just as Francis realized what was happening, Ethan turned his rifle on them.
"Sorry, guys. I'm the real deal." The rifle roared as he opened fire, cutting down the guards in a blaze of bullets.
"Well done, little guy." A familiar voice chuckled from the corner. Wade stepped out, clapping slowly. "If I were the judge, I'd give your acting a solid 99 out of 100."
Ethan looked Wade over with mild confusion. "Who are you again?"
Wade's smile faltered. "I'm your friendly neighborhood Wade."
Ethan shook his head. "No way. Wade wasn't this handsome."
Wade's expression turned sour. "It's all thanks to this hellhole and its 'skincare' regimen!" He turned back toward Francis's hiding place and unloaded his rifle. "Get out here, Francis! Look what you did to my face—ruined my chances with thousands of adoring fans!"
Calm and unbothered, Francis stood up from behind the bunker, hands raised in mock surrender.
"You won't kill me, Wade," Francis taunted. "Only I know how to fix that face of yours."
Wade scowled but didn't lower his gun. "Yeah, maybe I won't kill you. But I'll make sure you can taste your own backside—super glue included!"
Ethan winced at Wade's imagery. "Gross… really gross."
Thud… thud… thud…
Suddenly, heavy footsteps reverberated through the room.
Both Wade and Ethan spun around to see a towering woman striding toward them. Her muscular frame and unwavering stare made her look unstoppable.
They didn't waste a second—both raised their guns and fired. But the bullets merely bounced off her, clinking as if hitting solid metal. Unfazed, she charged, her fist aimed directly at Ethan.
"Another mutant!" Ethan thought just before her punch landed, smashing through his rifle and driving into his chest with the force of a battering ram.
The impact blurred Ethan's vision as he felt his body slam against the wall. Blood spurted from his mouth, laced with fragments of organs, his chest caved in, leaving him crumpled against the wall, barely conscious.