“Hey, did you hear something?”
The security guard in the hallway turned to look behind him, asking his colleague.
They were responsible for preventing gamblers from rushing the fighters' locker room; every famous fighter was an important asset to the Irish Mob.
“No, what sound?”
His colleague turned his head, seeing a massive figure appear in the dim corridor, its enormous body completely blocking the passage that could accommodate two people side-by-side.
“Who are you?!” The guard pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the Shadow.
The giant took two steps forward, stepping into the light, his deep purple skin extremely horrifying.
His green tongue flicked left and right at his mouth, and thick, mud-like saliva splattered everywhere.
“Mondo, is a Doctor!”
With that, Mondo stepped forward, reaching out and directly pushing the security guard aside, his gaze fixed on the ring.
Jack had once again defeated his opponent, raising his hands high, blood flowing from his knuckles down to his forearms.
He lifted his head, closed his eyes, listening to the cheers of his supporters and the wails and curses of some gamblers.
As he was enjoying the moment, Jack inexplicably felt a chill down his spine, turned his head, and met Mondo’s gaze directly.
Before Jack could react, Mondo pressed his right hand onto the guard’s shoulder, and his entire body launched into the air.
Accompanied by the wailing of the guard’s fractured shoulder blade, Mondo crashed heavily into the center of the ring.
The sound in the boxing arena immediately quieted; the gamblers were a bit confused, wondering why another person had entered after the boxing match.
The host also didn’t understand the situation, walking towards Mondo, “Sir, please do not get on stage casually.”
Facing the massive body, the host became much more polite; all the “fucks” were gone, and at first glance, he didn’t even seem like someone who worked in an underground boxing arena.
Mondo reached out, casually swiped, and directly threw the host flying.
“Mondo thinks you are sick! You need a Doctor! So Mondo came!”
Mondo’s eyes fixed on Jack, stepping towards him one by one.
Mondo? The guy I killed with two punches?
Jack couldn’t quite believe his eyes; from 1.7 meters tall to 2.5 meters, his waist and arm circumference at least doubled.
Was this a change that could happen in half an hour? Even if he ate pig feed and was injected with the power of Nine Dragons, it wouldn’t be possible!
Bang!
The flying host crashed into a ventilation duct, then fell heavily to the ground, groaning in pain repeatedly.
This sound pulled Jack back from his stunned daze and also woke up the other security guards in the boxing arena.
“Someone’s crashing the place!”
A shout rang out, followed by a bang, and a bullet hit Mondo’s body.
The bullet was firmly blocked outside his body by his tough skin and strong muscles.
Jack’s scalp immediately tingled; fight a guy that bullets can’t even penetrate?
This is not something I can do!
Jack turned and fled, but as soon as he took a step, a strong arm from behind blocked his chest, pulling him directly back.
“You are sick, you need treatment!”
Mondo said, raising his fist.
Boom!
The wind stirred up at the moment of the punch was like a sonic boom.
The massive fist directly pierced Jack’s chest.
Mondo fumbled in the chest cavity with his right hand, grabbed Jack’s heart, and pulled it out with force, the enlarged heart and shattered bone fragments coming out together.
“Mondo cured the patient!”
Mondo cheered loudly, and Jack in front of him immediately collapsed, with no possibility of being cured again.
Bang bang bang.
Guns were firing.
“Madman! This is a madman!”
People were screaming.
Standard pistol bullets could not penetrate Mondo’s skin at all; continuous firing was like giving him a scrub.
Thump!
Another shot, this time Mondo staggered, a five-centimeter blood hole torn open on his shoulder.
Muscle fibers inside the hole constantly wriggled, and in just a few breaths, new flesh filled the wound.
Mondo looked up and saw a stunned Danny and his guards.
The guard’s face was also full of disbelief; in his hand was an S&W M500, which used powerful .500 Magnum pistol rounds.
At this distance, one shot would directly penetrate a police riot shield, but now it only made a small opening?!
“Don’t just stand there, retreat quickly!” Danny pushed the guard and turned to run outside.
Mondo remembered who this person was; it was he who decided to lend fifty thousand half a month ago, which rolled into five hundred thousand.
“Five and fifty are not the same, you are sick, you need a Doctor!”
The guard fired continuously, all four remaining bullets in the cylinder hitting, but they didn’t stop Mondo’s steps.
Instead, the narrow passage affected Mondo more.
“Mondo is a good Doctor; patients he has seen never relapse a second time!”
Mondo tried to retain the frantically fleeing Danny with words, but unfortunately, the other party did not intend to accept treatment.
When he finally broke through the clutter in the passage and reached the ground, Mondo was faced with prepared gunmen.
Given the previous situation, no one was carrying pistols this time, only automatic rifles.
“Fire!”
A dense rain of bullets hit Mondo, forcing him to retreat repeatedly.
Facing the attack of so many firearms, Mondo raised his hands to protect his eyes, bent over to reduce the exposed area of his body, and then directly endured it.
Ten seconds later, most of the gunmen began to reload.
The bullets embedded in Mondo’s frontal muscles and bones, if dug out and sold as scrap iron and copper, would fetch a considerable sum.
Truly – several pounds of bullets could be found in his body.
He glanced at Danny, who had already run far away, and the increasing number of armed personnel.
Mondo turned and ran towards the street, overturning vehicles and obstacles in his path, while shouting loudly, “Mondo will be back!”
When he only wanted to escape, the Irish Mob couldn’t stop Mondo either.
Especially when he reached the territory near Kingpin, it was even more impossible to pursue; normally passing through was fine, but now, fully armed, it would likely provoke a Firefight.
Danny’s face was gloomy; if Mondo had disregarded everything and insisted on killing him, it would have been easier to deal with.
But now it seemed that although the other party was crazy, he still retained basic judgment.
“Fuck, where did this guy sneak in from?!”
Danny was furious; the dead clients, the damaged boxing arena, none of it was easy to handle.
Moreover, this incident had become quite big, and it would be very difficult to explain to the police.
“Go! Get some Rocket launchers, and if you see him again, blast him for me!” Danny roared.
......
In the underground tunnel network of Hell's Kitchen.
Mondo leaned against the pipe wall, panting heavily, quietly waiting for his muscles to slowly push out the bullets.
During this process, he stared blankly at the sewage channel in front of him, not knowing what he was thinking.
Fortunately, Xie Huiming directly injected Mondo with flesh mutation; if it had been a regular process like Coulson, it would have been over.
Mondo might not even understand books, or rather, over ninety percent of the people in Hell's Kitchen wouldn’t understand books full of metaphors.
After all, when they encountered unfamiliar words, they weren’t even willing to look them up in a dictionary.
To project influence in such a place, one had to take a more crude route.
Focusing purely on raw numbers, without any manipulation!
