Both start in hell: but their talents are multiplied a hundredfold.

When hundreds of armed guards burst through the doors to the top-floor office, everyone froze in the same instant.

The fierce firefight they had anticipated did not occur; there was no smoke, no corpses, and no enemies standing amidst the broken glass and the night wind.

They only saw a scene that was almost absurd.

Kingpin, Bullseye, the man in the floral shirt, and the bald, muscular man—these four figures, feared throughout the underworld, were now kneeling respectfully beside a young priest.

The priest had a gentle appearance, a kind expression, and a smile that gave people a sense of inexplicable peace.

He was sitting in Kingpin’s large chair, which originally belonged to the underworld emperor, with a Bible casually placed on his lap, as if telling a story to a flock of lost sheep.

A guard recognized Shen Jue.

That young priest who was extremely popular on television.

At that moment, no one dared to fire first.

The lead guard gripped his automatic rifle tightly, the muzzle trembling slightly, his gaze shifting back and forth between Kingpin and Shen Jue.

"Mr. Kingpin..." he began tentatively, his voice extremely low.

Kingpin slowly raised his head, his face bearing a gentle yet chilling expression.

"Please go back and fulfill your security duties."

"We must repent sincerely to our great Father."

His tone was as calm as a church deacon's, humble, restrained, and even carried a chilling submissiveness.

The guards looked at each other, their fear even more intense than when facing a hail of bullets.

The lead guard swallowed hard, finally nodded, and slowly retreated.

"Yes... Mr. Kingpin."

He made a gesture, and the entire team of guards retreated from the office like a tide.

The heavy explosion-proof door closed again, shutting out all the noise from the outside world.

The office fell silent again, with only the night breeze blowing through the empty French windows, gently turning over the banknotes and documents scattered on the floor.

Shen Jue remained seated in the chair, smiling as she gazed in the direction the door led to where they had left.

"Look, children, this world is indeed a place where communication is possible."

"We should do good deeds."

"Use everything to change this sinful world and the old America."

"Go out to more people and spread our gospel and thoughts."

"Let more people repent and join our action."

"I firmly believe that as long as everyone in the world contributes a little love, we can achieve great things."

"This world will definitely become a better place."

Shen Jue used the Yuan Magnetic Force to manipulate the Nine Heavens and the Dragon Clan's power of forging and creation, forcibly altering the consciousness and souls of Kingpin and the others.

This led to Kingpin and his men instantly realizing their mistake, turning over a new leaf, and weeping bitterly.

Of course, Shen Jue was not satisfied with just these few people.

In Shen Jue's view, the chaotic world of the Marvel Universe is lacking too many purely good people like Spider-Man.

This is what leads to the spread of chaos and suffering.

Therefore, Shen Jue wanted to try to change the world slowly, starting with Kingpin and others.

The next day at noon, in the suburbs of New York City.

The scorching sun beat down on the corrugated iron roofs of the abandoned industrial area, and the air was thick with the pungent smell of chemicals mixed with rotting garbage.

Outside the addictive substance processing plant, a black modified van is quietly parked in a dark alley three blocks away.

The Punisher sat in the carriage, a full set of weapons laid out in front of him. The smell of gun oil and gunpowder made him look like a loaded weapon.

His real name is Frank Castle, a former U.S. Marine Corps reconnaissance captain who participated in numerous covert operations overseas and was proficient in close combat, tactical demolition, and the handling of almost all light weapons.

Until that day, his wife and two children were picnicking in Central Park when they accidentally stumbled upon a gang deal and were shot to death.

Frank Castle died on that day.

The only survivor was the Punisher, the anti-hero.

He put on the black tactical vest with a white skull painted on the chest, looking like a ghost rising from the grave to carry out a judgment.

There is no mercy, no negotiation, and no forgiveness for criminals.

The Punisher Frank has only one method of trial.

That was bloody death.

The magazine slammed into the gun, the bolt was pulled, and the metallic clanging sound echoed crisply and coldly in the carriage.

Frank carried a shotgun on his back, his waist was full of grenades, he held an M4 carbine with a red dot sight in his hand, and a tactical knife was tucked into a scabbard on his leg.

Preparations complete.

He intends for everyone in this factory today to be unable to leave the factory alive.

The Punisher silently approached the factory, placed the breaching explosives at the side door, kicked open the iron door, and pounced in like a ghost.

"boom!"

The door exploded inwards, and smoke and alarms sounded simultaneously.

He raised his gun and swept down the two nearest guards, the bullets hitting them precisely between the eyebrows and in the throat, giving them no chance to retaliate.

He continued forward, passing through the dark corridor where raw materials were piled up, and kicked open a half-closed metal door.

Before me was a spacious processing workshop, which should have been filled with drugs, guns, and busy gang members.

But at this moment, the workshop was eerily quiet.

Those ruthless gangsters, regardless of gender or age, were all kneeling on the ground, their faces contorted in pain and tears streaming down their faces.

They formed a circle, like a flock of lambs whose ferocity had been stripped away.

Among this group of people, a young and handsome man in a black priest's robe stood under the dim light, looking down at them with a gentle expression.

The Punisher's gun was still pointed at the crowd, but his finger remained on the trigger.

"Who are you?" The Punisher's voice was deep and cold.

Shen Jue smiled and looked up. Although it was the first time he had met this anti-hero in front of him, he had already sensed Frank's presence.

"You lost child, trapped in the killing field," Shen Jue said slowly, "you're too late."

"These promiscuous, robbed, drug-making, murderous, and utterly wicked people are like lost sheep with hearts of gold."

"I've finally come to my senses."

"They will spend their lives atoneing for their sins and doing good deeds."

"What nonsense are you spouting?!" Frank couldn't hold back any longer and growled angrily in a low voice.

Frank, who was always decisive and ruthless, pulled the trigger, and bullets swept towards the kneeling man and Shen Jue.

Frank demonstrated his abilities as a top human firearms expert and sharpshooter.

This volley of fire would not only kill everyone present, but also destroy the light source, allowing Frank to escape in time.

Shen Jue smiled and moved swiftly. When the gunfire stopped, he flipped his wrist and dumped the bullets in his arms onto the ground.

The bullets clattered and clanged as they hit the concrete, like a string of broken prayer beads.

Frank's eyes were fixed on the pile of gleaming yellow cartridge cases and bullets, and for the first time, his hand trembled slightly while holding the gun.

His volley of fire completely blocked all angles, and he even calculated the trajectory of the rebound from the wall, ensuring that even the light source would be extinguished simultaneously.

Shen Jue not only caught all the bullets, but he was so accurate that he didn't miss a single one.

"Of all martial arts techniques, none are invincible except speed," Shen Jue said softly, as if reciting a classic line.

"Lost child, if I told you I could resurrect your family, would you join our plan filled with love and kindness?"

Frank suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot beneath his helmet, as if someone had plunged a red-hot iron hook into a scabbed wound.

"What...did you say?"