O Justiceiro Serie -

They were amateurs.

Frank Castle pulled up his hood and walked into the storm. The justice was never finished. It only reloaded.

The last three tried to run. They didn't make it to the door. o justiceiro serie

His earpiece crackled. Micro-squeal of a door hinge. A man in a cheap suit stepped out of The Silver Rail for a smoke. Dominic Rizzo. Mid-level logistics. He handled the boat schedules. He had a wife in Scarsdale who thought he sold industrial lubricant. He had a daughter Sophia’s age.

Frank stepped back. He removed his balaclava, showing his scarred, exhausted face. He didn't smile. He didn't offer comforting words. He simply knelt down to their level, placed his rifle on the ground, and held out his hands—palms up, empty. They were amateurs

That’s when Frank moved.

Frank looked into Rizzo’s eyes. He saw the calculation there—the desperate hope that he could warn his bosses, that he could still get out of this. It only reloaded

"Yeah," he said. "But I'm the kind that eats other monsters."