The Comprehensive Evolution of American Comics

Chapter Bitter El

Deep within the subway station, Quentin stood before a collapsed tunnel, seemingly lost in thought as he gazed at the debris blocking the path.

"Shush."

The sound of shoes scraping against the ground. Quentin pushed up his oversized sunglasses, which were always threatening to slide off his ears.

"Bitter El, what are you still doing here?"

An old man with a knitted hat emerged from around the tunnel corner, looking at Quentin with a worried expression, despite Quentin being young enough to be his grandson.

"Miss Tandy and Mr. Tyrone have already come to an agreement with the Viper Gang. They've forgiven our theft and are gathering everyone in the hall."

The old man's tone was gentle, as if he were talking to his own grandson.

"Hurry up, those big shots have arranged work for us. If you do well, you might even get extra food. If you're late, there will be nothing left."

"Get Kilgrave out here," Quentin replied, his answer completely unrelated, ignoring the old man and bringing up another person entirely. The nonsensical response left the old man dumbfounded.

"What are you talking about, Bitter El? Why are you suddenly mentioning Mr. Zebediah?" The old man looked at Quentin, puzzled. "Hurry up, or we'll be late."

"Stop pretending, eggplant man," Quentin rolled his eyes. "We both know what your abilities are. Instead of playing games with me, why don't you just get to the point and save us both some time."

The old man stopped speaking. Instead, the sound of leather shoes scraping the ground echoed through the empty tunnel, making Quentin frown.

A few seconds later, Zebediah appeared from the tunnel corner, just like the old man had. But unlike before, Zebediah's face was no longer filled with timidity, but with confidence. His every move exuded elegance, making him look like a country gentleman.

"You do know my little secret, Mr. Quentin," Zebediah said with a smile. "I'm curious how you found out. I was so careful."

"I can smell your stench from a mile away," Quentin gestured as if swatting the air in front of his nose. "Besides, you've been stirring up emotions in front of me. Only an idiot wouldn't notice."

"Is that so?" Zebediah clapped his hands. "It seems Miss Tandy and Mr. Tyrone aren't as smart as you, little kid. They were chosen just like me, but such powerful abilities are wasted on them."

"If I could use those two powers, I wouldn't have to hide in this little place, living in fear."

A hint of madness flashed across Zebediah's face, but he quickly regained his composure and said, "But unfortunately, because of a few failures, I'm afraid to use my powers on other superhumans. Otherwise, I would have…"

"Enough already," Quentin interrupted Zebediah's self-indulgent rant. "I don't have time to listen to your barking. After I deal with you, I still have to clean up after that panda express duo."

"You're arrogant, Quentin," Zebediah wasn't annoyed, maintaining his nonchalant attitude. "I suspect you have superpowers too, right? But if you think you can take me down with that little bit of power, you're sorely mistaken."

Zebediah snapped his fingers, and a dozen people emerged from around the corner, tall, short, fat, and thin. They were the others from the shelter.

"My abilities aren't limited to controlling one withered old man," Zebediah's lips curled up. "I don't know my limits yet, but controlling a dozen or twenty ordinary people is easy."

Zebediah looked smugly at the pink-haired kid in front of him and said, "How is it? Are you regretting your impulsiveness? Too late, kid! This is your punishment for talking back to me! Get him! Beat him to death!"

At Zebediah's command, the vacant-eyed people immediately charged towards Quentin, creating a scene reminiscent of a zombie apocalypse.

The target, Quentin, seemed to be frozen in place, watching the crowd rush towards him. Seeing his opponent's pathetic state, Zebediah revealed a confident smile.

"Bang!"

A deafening gunshot echoed through the underground tunnel, reverberating for a long time. Zebediah's smile froze on his face, and as he watched the crowd fly backward, his smile disappeared.

'Where did that gun come from?' Zebediah looked through the gap revealed by the fallen crowd and saw Quentin holding a sawed-off double-barreled shotgun. What was even more surprising was that the gun was pink, just like his hair.

"You seemed to think you had me figured out," Quentin held the double-barreled shotgun in one hand, and with a casual gesture, he grabbed the sunglasses that had fallen to the ground due to the recoil.

"You actually shot ordinary people!" Zebediah was horrified. "You little maniac!"

Zebediah thought Quentin was too extreme. Even he, who considered himself a bad guy, wouldn't casually take someone's life. But that pink-haired kid just pulled out a gun and shot ordinary people!

This kid is an even worse scoundrel than him, maybe even a psychopath!

"Open your damn eyes and take a look," Quentin put his glasses back on. "I didn't expect you to be so unintelligent, and your eyesight is bad too."

Zebediah lowered his head and found that those who had been shot didn't have any blood, let alone wounds. But they were no longer moving, and even Zebediah couldn't control them. They looked like they were asleep.

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"What's going on?" Zebediah was shocked.

Quentin picked his ear and said, "With your IQ, it's hard for me to explain it to you. You'll understand when you experience it yourself."

Zebediah felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave and shouted, "Stop him! Stop him!"

After saying that, Zebediah turned around and ran, completely losing his initial elegance, looking like a stray dog fleeing in panic.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Several gunshots rang out behind him. Zebediah didn't dare to look back, as if there were some ferocious beasts behind him, ready to devour him if he slowed down.

"Snap!"

The sound of something snapping shut. Zebediah felt a tightening sensation on his ankle, and then his legs lost control. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take another step. Then, he fell heavily to the ground.

Because he was running at full speed, Zebediah's fall was particularly jarring. His clothes were covered in dust, and his arms and face were scratched.