As the rear hatch of the Punisher slowly opened, the figure of Seventy-Six appeared in everyone's line of sight. Or rather, half of Seventy-Six.
The ship's engines kicked up a monstrous gale.
The assassin, who was the size of an ordinary person, stood on one leg. His other leg, along with his entire lower body, had completely vanished.
The black artificial skin covering his body was torn open at the chest, revealing the organs and Mechanical Structures within.
But these injuries, severe enough to kill an Imperial Knight, seemed only to hinder his movement, not prove fatal.
Scraps of cloth and skin on Seventy-Six's body danced in the wind. He knelt on one knee, held his gun in his right hand, steadied the stock with his neck, and fired several shots. The special-made bullets accurately blasted through the heads of the Elite Slaughter Demons, covering Manon and Matthias's retreat.
'Time to board, folks.'
The moment the Telepathy ended,
