As The Only Mutant in Marvel

"I'm sure! I want them dead—every single one of them!"

Harry's bloodshot eyes burned with rage as he shouted.

"Help me, Lance! You're the only one I can count on!"

Lance stared at his friend's frantic expression. He could only imagine what Harry had been through these past few days.

The last time Lance saw him—at Roman Osborn's funeral—he'd just been a little down.

Now?

Harry looked like a man pushed to the edge.

"Alright. I'll help you."

Lance stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't worry. I know the rules."

Harry took a shaky breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"I'll wire you a $50 million deposit upfront," he said. "And once it's done, I'll give you 0.5% of Osborn Group's shares."

0.5%.

Given the company's $1.5 trillion valuation, that was worth a staggering $7.5 billion.

Of course, Lance knew the deaths of Osborn's top shareholders would rattle the stock market.

A 20% drop was almost guaranteed.

But even then, the payout would still be worth over $6 billion.

Lance wasn't exactly hurting for money.

His parents had left him a sizable inheritance—a trust fund that generated $80 million in annual dividends—plus a collection of luxury properties, cars, and artwork.

But cash?

Cash was tight.

Most of his liquid assets barely added up to $100 million.

And his extravagant lifestyle—mansions, parties, and high-end toys—burned through most of it.

That's why Lance had started working as a contract killer.

Not just for the thrill—but for the money.

His self-healing ability gave him an edge, and his superior physicality made him lethal.

So why not?

"I can't say no to that offer."

Lance smirked. Harry wasn't messing around.

He wasn't just angry—he was desperate.

0.5% of Osborn's shares was no small price.

Even if Harry reclaimed 2% to 3% of the shares from the others, losing 0.5% was still a steep cost.

But he was willing to pay it.

The $50 million deposit?

That was just pocket change in comparison.

"So when do you want them gone?"

Lance leaned back, casually sipping his drink.

"The sooner, the better."

Harry clenched his fists.

"I can't stand seeing their disgusting faces anymore."

He pulled out a stack of files from his bag and tossed them onto the table.

"Everything you need is in there."

Prepared, huh?

Lance raised an eyebrow.

Clearly, Harry had planned for this.

Maybe he hadn't been sure Lance would agree—but he'd been ready just in case.

Harry knew Lance's weaknesses—his spending habits and his hunger for excitement.

The offer was too good to refuse, and both of them knew it.

Harry could've gone to the dark web or hired mercenaries through black-market channels.

But why take the risk?

Strangers couldn't be trusted.

Lance, on the other hand?

They had history.

Trust.

Harry was willing to pay a premium for that peace of mind.

And honestly?

Even if this job cost him billions, it would still be a profit.

Once those shareholders were out of the picture, Harry could grab their shares and come out richer than before.

"I know I'm paying a lot," Harry admitted. "But I also know how dangerous this is."

Rich people weren't easy targets—especially in America, where everyone owned guns and security systems were top-notch.

This wasn't a movie.

Killing billionaires wasn't as simple as sneaking through a window.

That's why he needed Lance.

"Lance, if it's too risky, don't do it."

Harry hesitated as he stood to leave.

"Your safety comes first."

Lance waved him off.

"Relax. It's just a few old men—easy work."

And he meant it.

Before awakening his teleportation ability, Lance might've been worried.

Now?

Taking out a few billionaires?

It'd be like stealing candy from a baby.

"Still… be careful, okay?"

Harry gave one last reminder before stepping into the elevator.

Back in the living room—

Lance flipped through the files.

Five targets.

Their combined shares accounted for over 10% of the company.

"Rich bastards," Lance muttered, whistling softly.

"Never enough, huh?"

It was funny.

They already had more money than they could ever spend, but still wanted more.

Greed ran deep—especially at the top.

And now?

Their greed was going to get them killed.

"Billions of dollars, and you can't take a cent with you when you die."

Lance smirked, tossing the files onto the table.

Tonight, it begins.

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