After giving Shining Darkness a few minutes to attract trouble, Death Head strode down the stairs, confident he’d meet little resistance.

Only two or three floors up from Penspot’s penthouse. Then the real fun starts, Death Head thought as he jogged through the stairway.

Quickly, however, he found his lungs aching as he bemoaned, “Tch… Get it together, body. This is our last night of work. Then you can finally get some rest.”

Making it down the first flight, Death Head found a door to let him into the main structure. It was locked, of course, but it wasn’t built from the same reinforced steel as the roof entrance was. As such, Death Head could easily blow out the passageway’s lock with a booming, armor-piercing round from his black-painted Desert Eagle. Fortunately for him, Hardwire had built these suits with noise protection in mind. Somehow, the kid had managed this upgrade without dampening Death Head’s ability to hear his surroundings.

Much to his annoyance, though, the Mask heard at least two shouts of surprise from the other side of the door once he gave it a new hole.

Resigning himself to the fact he’d have to fight immediately, Death Head pulled open the door and rolled out from its frame. He then assumed his marksman stance, crossing the arm he used to hold his bat as he rested his gun hand atop it.

Scanning his surroundings, the elder Mask picked up on his surroundings and the opponents he’d be facing. He was in a hallway decorated with ornate busts and priceless paintings.

Good chance the art’ll be wrecked, he thought.

Standing in front of him, Death Head saw two startled men in business attire, while a quick glance behind revealed a woman in similar clothing.

Assuming the woman’s armed too, there’s no way I’ll be able to beat all three of them on the draw with how they’ve got me surrounded. If only I was twenty years younger. Oh well, just hope she doesn’t aim for my head.

Reaching into his suit for a firearm, one of the men exclaimed, “Death Head?! How the fuck did he-?!”

Before the man could say anything else, Death Head opened fire, blasting a chunk out of both their shoulders with two more deafening shots. The Mask’s armor-piercing rounds ripping through the criminals’ flesh like wet paper.

As the two guards crumbled to the floor and fell into shock, Death Head turned and thought, Hope I didn’t damage the femoral artery.

Just as Death Head had expected and feared, though, he hadn’t moved fast enough to beat the woman’s trigger finger as she unloaded a .22 caliber round into his head. To the woman’s complete disbelief, however, the bullet ricocheted off his helmet and shattered one of the statues.

Death Head still recoiled, though. For, while his armor protected him from having a hole in his skull, it couldn’t completely cancel out the kinetic force, as his vision became clouded with stars.

Fear taking over, the woman unloaded her clip and fired at Death Head as fast as possible. Panic ruining her aim, though, half of her rounds hit the walls and paintings, while the other half hit Death Head’s chest and bounced off the even more heavily armored area.

Coughing a bit after tanking what felt like several gut punches, Death Head shook his head and stared at the woman as she frantically tried to load in a new clip. The Mask knew he had to stop her, but his vision was still too clouded to aim accurately.

Gritting his teeth, Death Head ignored his possible concussion, stating, “Knock it off!” As he threw his metal bat like a disk. Fortunately, with such a large projectile, his bat easily hit the woman with a mix of metal clanging and bone-crunching as her right arm broke before its force.

As soon as the woman fell backward to the ground, Death Head rushed toward her.

Instinctively, she thought that perhaps the Mask was coming to make sure she hadn’t been hurt. Instead, she saw him raising his boot over her face.

Desperately, she asked, “You wouldn’t hit a-?” But before she could even get her sentence out, Death Head’s size thirteen fell on her face, broke her nose, and knocked her clean out.

Grabbing his bat, Death Head muttered, “If you start shooting at me, I don’t really give a rat’s ass what gear you’re packing down there. Just count yourself lucky I didn’t hit you any harder.”

With a more thorough look at his surroundings, Death Head saw that the way the woman was lying led to a dead-end. Instead, the path of the shoulderless men would take him closer to his target.

Feeling his knees ache, Death Head growled, “Work with me, legs! I took my vitamins for you and everything! Only a deaf man wouldn’t have heard all those gunshots. I’m sure I’ll get at least a few more grunts coming ‘round to investigate.”

Going as fast as he could, Death Head rushed down the hall, examining any rooms he came across for signs of records being kept.

Upon reaching for the handle to the fourth room he came across, Death Head was met by a man brandishing a pistol opening the door from the other side.

Without hesitating, Death Head bashed the man’s teeth in with a swift armored elbow to the face, knocking him back as blood flew from his mouth.

Entering the room as he pushed through the knocked-out man, Death Head saw that he’d entered the housing for a security terminal and one more man in a rotating chair. This one was actually dressed the part of a security guard, was somewhat overweight, and was armed only with a nightstick.

Raising his hands up as fear filled his eyes, the guard exclaimed, “Wait! I give up!”

Putting a palm to the man’s chest as he holstered his firearm, Death Head pushed him and his chair into a corner of the room, warning him, “Smart. Now stay there while I get to work.”

Taking out a USB drive from his belt, Death Head installed it into the terminal and said, “I found one of their security terminals, Hardwire. I’m giving you access. Hopefully, some good info is in here.”

“Really? Good work, Death Head. Shine hasn’t even found anything yet,” Hardwire replied through the earpiece.

Watching the screens in front of him fill up with the blue and white fuzz typical of Hardwire’s work, Death Head remarked, “Assuming you aren’t pulling my leg, then either the basement’s a maze and half, or they keep all their documents on the higher levels.”

“Maybe… Oh, wait. Shine says he thinks he found something. I’ll get back to you in a second.”

“Got it,” Death Head said.

The moment Hardwire’s attention was away from Death Head, the older man’s ears picked up on the noise of shoes slowly approaching him.

Just as the guard was about to try a strike from behind with his nightstick, Death Head spun around and bashed the man with a roundhouse kick.

As a trickle of blood stuck to Death Head’s boot and the guard fell unconscious to the floor, the Mask stated, “I told you to stay where you were. Idiot.”

Some seconds later, Hardwire’s voice came back, explaining, “Looks like Shining Darkness found the paper records in the basement. Aaaannnd… Seems like I got my hands on six months’ worth of digitally stored security footage! Jackpot, baby!”

Raising his brow, Death Head replied with a hint of eagerness, “Really now…? Hehehe. Sounds to me like we just need to focus on finding Penspot now.”

“Yeah. Even if this doesn’t have what we need, Shining Darkness can still speed-blitz his way through the rest of the building for more evidence,” Hardwire said enthusiastically.

“Alright! I’m making my way to the penthouse, Hardwire!” Death Head exclaimed as he exited the room.

Rushing through the halls, adrenaline blocking out all his pain, Death Head was about to reach the stairs when four more men came barging out from the double doors that led to them.

Argh! Don’t want to waste any more ammo than I have to before the real fighting starts.

Just as they began to point their guns at him, Death Head put a hand on one of the busts lining the hall and threw it at them. The resulting crash knocked one man out and sent powder from the broken statue into the air. Not enough to act as a smoke screen, but at least enough to get in the men’s eyes for a moment. More than enough time for the veteran Mask.

Jumping up and running along a wall for a moment, Death Head threw a flying punch into another man’s face, sending him tumbling down the stairs.

With Death Head too close for their pistols to be reliable, one of the guards tried to pistol-whip him, only to be met with a swinging bat to the face. As the powerful tonk sent the newly concussed man down the stairs as well, Death Head grabbed the last man by his wrist, twisting it and disarming him in the process.

Pinning the guy against the wall nearest to him, Death Head asked, “Is Penspot here?”

“Bite me!” The man replied with immediate venom.

Without hesitation, Death Head punched the man in his elbow, breaking his arm at the joint.

“Is Penspot here?!” The Mask repeated more aggressively.

As tears reflexively fell from his eyes, the man exclaimed, “Fuck! Yes! Yes, she is! Two floors down in her office!”

“Was that so hard?” Death Head asked, sounding genuinely annoyed.

Grabbing the man by the back of his collar, Death Head then threw him face-first into another wall away from the stairs. The man hit that wall hard enough to crack some of the stone it was made from, rendering yet another person out cold.

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Rushing down the next flight of stairs, Death Head saw three more people running to intercept him.

Turning a dial on his helmet, Death Head’s vision darkened slightly as he criticized himself. I should have thought of this when I first came rolling in. It would’ve saved me a few gunshot bruises.

With both his eyes and ears protected now, Death Head pulled a flashbang from his belt, pulled the pin, and hucked it at the crooks in his path.

As the grenade went off before them, the men dropped their guns and grabbed at their faces in agony. In turn, Death Head jumped from the final step and kneed the man at the front of the pack in his face, breaking both his hands and nose.

Landing heavily just past his most recent victim, Death Head spun around and struck both of the other men with his bat at once, cracking their skulls.

Looking at this floor, he saw it was designed far posher, with various rooms without doors and unanimously lit with pink and red ambient lighting.

Not wasting any time, Death Head ran forward, glancing into each room he passed by to make sure no hostiles were waiting for him. Instead, all he saw were frightened, well-built, handsome, and scantily clad men cowering on various pieces of furniture.

Prostitutes, Death Head presumed as he looked away, mildly discomforted.

Fortunately for the Mask, it seemed nobody else on this floor were fighters of any kind. This made it all the easier for him to rush down to next door. Once again, it was a locked passage the Mask had to blast open.

Only two rounds left in this clip and one in the chamber. I’ll switch it out for my spare just to be sure I don’t get caught with my pants down during a firefight.

Switching his clips out as he kicked open the next door, Death Head went rushing down the next flight of stairs, his adrenaline and peak condition managing to keep his old body going. It also helped his aching joints that, for some reason, this staircase was peculiarly cold.

Once he was down the steps, Death Head encountered one more door. This one left unlocked. Body-checking the door open, Death Head pointed his hand cannon at anyone he saw. Fortunately, all he saw were men and women in chef’s uniforms.

Sneaking a glance behind himself, Death Head noticed the door he came out from had been disguised to resemble the fridges it was next to.

Explains the cold air, he thought. I guess Penspot didn’t want anyone to know how to get up to her sex attic or her security floor.

Keeping his gun raised, Death Head told the cooks, “Get on the ground and stay there. The police have the building surrounded, and the Shining Darkness is making his way up and taking down anyone who resists.”

While most of the kitchen staff did as they were told, one woman stopped halfway, resting on her knees as she asked, “I… Hold on. The shining what?”

Pointing his gun at her specifically, Death Head explained coldly, “An even more dangerous Mask than me. Now get down, or I’ll use your brains as the sauce for the next meal.”

While the frightened woman followed directions, Death Head thought, Gotta make sure Conner’s new identity is spread around as much as possible.

Storming into the kitchen as Death Head finished his thought, a woman with an assault rifle lined her sights up on the Mask.

Beating the younger person’s reaction time, Death Head shot her in her center of mass. And if it hadn’t been for his high-caliber rounds, then the kevlar she’d been wearing under her suit would’ve left her with just a broken rib instead of a new orifice.

As the woman fell dead, propping open the kitchen doors, Death Head allowed his hidden face to grow remorseful as he thought. Dammit… I’m getting judged at the pearly gates for that one. Always hate it when I know for certain I killed a person, crook or not. Conner’s lucky he’s so strong and fast he can ensure he doesn’t take lives.

Gesturing at the dead woman, Death Head yelled at the chefs, “See that shit!? I’m being serious here! So stay on the ground!”

Making his way to the doors as the chefs lay prone on the floor, Death Head noticed a pair of humanoid shadows in the hall through the gap created by the woman’s body.

Well, ain’t that lucky.

Grabbing his second and last flashbang, Death Head carefully threw it through the gap in the door. And the second it went off, he came bursting out with it.

The door had been surrounded on either side by two men with the same caliber of weaponry as the dead woman. With both people blinded, Death Head swung at the one on his right with his bat and shot the other in his face.

Rushing down the hall horizontal to the kitchen, Death Head barged into a windowed living room with six people in it. When they saw the veteran Mask, two unarmed people jumped behind a couch to cower while the other four, fully armed, aimed their rifles.

Jumping to his side, Death Head opened fire as the four men did the same. With two shots, Death Head dropped just as many men while his armored legs took several automatic rounds.

Doing his best to ignore the pain, the Mask rolled as he landed, managing to avoid some more gunfire. Then, just as he’d hoped, one of the goons couldn’t properly handle the recoil of his heavy ordinance. Because of this, the guard with a weaker core and arms ended up going off course, his aim swinging to the right as he ventilated his buddy and a few windows that overlooked Miracle City.

As the last man standing fell over from recoil and shock, Death Head jumped to his feet and put one more round through his rifle and his chest.

Looking at the cowering men behind the sofa, Death Head demanded, “Which way to Penspot!?”

Shakily, one of the men pointed to a door on the room’s west side and said, “Her- her office is that way. Ple-please! We’re just business partners! We were just waiting here for our meeting when you showed up! We’re not going to fight you!”

Pointing at one of the rifles on the floor, Death Head stated, “Let’s make this clear. Even if you tried to shoot me in the back, my armor’ll protect me long enough that I’ll be able to put holes in both of you before you can even do anything to me. So save yourselves a trip to the morgue and stay down.”

“Right! Yes, sir, Mr. Death Head!” The other man, noticeably older, exclaimed.

With an approving grunt, Death Head rushed toward the final door, large and constructed from expertly carved mahogany, and struck it with his bat, using both arms. The resulting force broke off the lock but dented the bat in the process.

Pulling his hand cannon back out and aiming it forward as he used his bat arm to steady his aim, Death Head kicked open the door and took in his next challenge.

|X|

The office was done up in the style of Renaissance royalty. A small but thick metal fountain was in the middle of the room, and various tapestries and paintings covered the walls, with marble pillars alongside them. At the end of the office was a massive, slick desk set up in front of a wall of, no doubt bulletproof, glass that gave a gorgeous view of the city.

As for his opponents, Death Head gave little regard to the three men and one woman pointing rifles at him. And he also ignored the man cowering by the leather chair in front of the desk. What did catch his eyes and his worry were the other three individuals in the room.

First was a huge man, at least six and a half feet tall, dressed in a full suit of metal armor similar to Death Head’s. He had an automatic pistol in his right hand, while his left hand was wrapped up in a spiked mace. This was a man Death Had was overly familiar with, Parker Lewis, or, as he’d been known by when they were partners, Powerhouse.

Next was a bald, pale man of indeterminate age and immaculate muscle. He was dressed in a red snakeskin suit. He had a Desert Eagle of his own while his hands were wrapped up in gloves with clawed fingers and spiked knuckles. In addition, his black snakeskin shoes also had a spike coming out of the tip of each one. This was Penspot’s personal enforcer, an individual who only went by Viper.

Finally, sitting at the desk with a cold drink was the woman of the hour, Sally Penspot. She was in her early forties and had silver hair that she kept tied in a ponytail. Despite her age, Penspot was a healthy-looking woman who clothed herself in a fine dress as her hand rested on an automatic pistol lying on her desk.

|X|

Immediately, Death Head let loose two shots. One was aimed at Parker and another at one of the three regular guards. While Parker managed to just avoid the bullet, the henchman was shot dead.

Letting out two more shots, Death Head rolled for one of the pillars as everyone in the room returned fire on him. One shot was just meant to give himself cover fire, putting a hole in the glass at the back of the room, while the second took out another guard.

While Death Head made for the pillar, his armored torso took several rounds. And as the Mask crouched behind cover, he suspected at least one of his ribs must have been broken by now.

Death Head wanted to return fire, but he immediately found himself pinned by the pillar as a hail of bullets rained onto the marble. At this point, all Death Head could do was keep his aim focused in case anyone tried to circle around and catch him by surprise.

While he kept his focus despite the waves of rubble being thrown in his face, Death Head thought, I expected Powerhouse, but I hoped Viper would be out on work tonight… Powerhouse’s armor is the old design from before Hardwire’s upgrades. So, it wouldn’t have been able to stop my shot if I’d managed to hit him, but it still would’ve prevented it from being lethal… Alright, is there any way for me to handle this without Conner’s help…? No, definitely not. Gotta call for the kid. Hope he can hear me through all the bullets flying.

Just as Death Head reached for his communicator, and as his pillar started being worn away, the bullets came to a stop when Penspot suddenly shouted, “Hold it! Stop firing!”

“Mam, why are we stopping? We should keep this up and not give him a second to breathe,” Viper’s voice asked.

In response, Penspot’s voice replied, “Quiet! Death Head, I learned about your planned attack tonight, but I assumed you’d gone crazy or senile. You’d need the military to get through my security, and yet here you are on the top floors while I’m losing contact with dozens of my men on the lower levels by the second. Color me confused. So, here’s the deal. If you tell me what’s going on so I can fix the holes in my security, I’ll kill you quickly and painlessly.”

“That sounds like a good deal to me. Honestly, I don’t want to make you suffer, old man, even after what you did to me,” Parker added.

After all this time, Death Head finally had a chance to talk with Sally Penspot in person. Also, little did the crime lord know but the Mask would be the one talking from a position of power.

The child-like temptation to taunt this woman who had ruined his home city and taken so many people from him was almost overwhelming, even to a grizzled veteran like Death Head. However, the Mask knew if he wanted to end this war of his once and for all, and do so efficiently, then childish banter was off the table.

With his communicator activated and no gunshots to block out his voice, Death Head exclaimed, “Shining Darkness! I’m pinned up here with the primary target! Third from the top floor! Get up here now!”

“Shining Darkness…? Did the beating I gave to your last replacement force him into early retirement, so you grabbed a rush-job spare for tonight?!” Parker asked in a far more mocking tone.

Death Head felt an even stronger urge now. This time, it was an urge to belittle his fallen student, but he knew if he just waited a few seconds, the job would be done for him.

The second after Parker made his remark, everyone in the room suddenly felt the floor shake beneath their feet.

“What the Hell is-?” Penspot began. However, her voice was cut off when yet another rumble, this one even closer, went off. One after another, second after second, the building shook, and each time, the source of the disruption grew closer.

Finally, one of the living guards asked, “What in God’s name is going on?! Is this an Earthquake?!” Once she asked this, the floor beneath the fountain erupted apart as Shining Darkness came jumping through the rain of fountain water, metal, and stone.

Landing in the middle of the room as his glowing eyes glared at every criminal, Shining Darkness exclaimed with his fiery voice, “This ends tonight, Sally Penspot. Give up, or else I will hurt you.”

Knowing the night was won, Death Head finally indulged his desires, stepped out from behind the pillar, walked to his apprentice’s side, and added, “I’d listen to the man if I were you. The Shining Darkness makes me look like a kitten.”

In response, Viper opened fire at Death Head, being the only one in the room left unphased by the Super Mask's entrance. However, to the criminal's surprise and Death Head's expectance, the Shining Darkness' hand jolted in front of the bullet just before it would have hit Death Head's face.

Catching the round before it could fall out of his palm, Shining Darkness rolled the flattened bullet between his fingers as the criminals tried to comprehend what they were witnessing.

The Shining Darkness then flicked the bullet back in Viper's direction, hitting his gun, destroying it, and breaking the hitman's hand.

While Death Head smiled widely and Sally Penspot's jaw dropped, the Shining Darkness sighed and said flatly, "We both warned you."