Chapter 89: Maybe I Can Fix Her (Patreon)

Screams of pain filled the room in an abandoned warehouse. Inside, two East Asian men, one fat and one lean, were bound to chairs, stripped down to their underwear. The fat man was already unconscious, and the lean man wasn’t far behind.

Frances hit the lean man’s arm one last time with a baseball bat, then sat down in another chair. The lean man finally lost consciousness, too.

“Linda, patch ’em up again,” Frances said, lazily turning toward Linda Carter, who sat in a corner reading a medical journal.

Linda looked up from the journal at the two men. As a doctor, she already had a strong stomach, but years of working as a neutral doctor in Hell’s Kitchen had desensitized her to this kind of brutality.

“Sure thing, Frances,” Linda said, putting the journal down on the table.

As she got up, her thoughts drifted back to her life before she joined Frances’s gang.

Practicing medicine in the underworld had always been more dangerous than most people realized.

Linda had known that from the beginning.

Favors and grudges carried weight down here. Saving a man's life could earn his gratitude, but it could just as easily earn the hatred of whoever wanted him dead. Treat a wounded enforcer, and his boss might owe you a favor. Treat that same enforcer, and his rival might decide you had chosen a side.

Linda had understood all of that.

She simply hadn't cared.

Perhaps it had been pride. She was a doctor. When someone came to her bleeding, she treated them. Their name, their allegiance, their enemies—none of it was supposed to matter. She had stubbornly clung to that neutrality, convinced that the underworld's feuds had nothing to do with what happened on her operating table.

Looking back, that belief seemed almost arrogant.

No true neutrality existed down here.

Sometimes, saving a life was enough to make an enemy.

It had been two months since she became part of Frances’s gang. In the end, she had been forced to choose a side.

Her work didn’t change much. She still treated patients. Only her patients changed. Now she treated Frances’s gang members, occasional torture victims, and sometimes the locals in the areas under the gang’s control.

The locals respected her. Most were ordinary people, happy to have access to a good doctor at a low cost. Frances didn’t mind. As long as she didn’t make the gang members wait, Linda could do whatever she wanted with the rest of her time.

It was a strange irony. Back in Hell’s Kitchen, locals used to come to her clinic, but they were few and far between. Most were too afraid or intimidated to visit a place frequented by rival gang members. Despite having no allegiance to anyone, she couldn’t actually treat people as freely as she wanted. But now, even though she owed her allegiance to Frances, she was free to treat anyone in need. It might have been Frances’s way of ruling the streets under her control, but the locals weren’t that afraid to leave their homes, even at night.

Despite the change in circumstances, things stayed pretty normal.

However, when things seemed too normal in a place like this, Linda had learned to suspect that something was very wrong.

Linda had learned that a few weeks ago.

A few weeks had passed since Frances’s gang destroyed the Neon Kings and took control of their territory. With several new streets now under their control, the gang got busy making sure their hold on the area was secure. Frances was like a medieval monarch, giving orders and expecting her ministers and generals to carry them out.

That was when Frances summoned Linda to discuss one of her plans. When Linda found out that the plan involved harvesting organs from debtors who couldn’t repay what they owed, even she felt uncomfortable. But one look at Frances made Linda realize the real problem.

“Did you get this idea from some crime show?” Linda asked with a sigh.

“W-what are you talking about?” Frances asked, looking slightly flustered. It was the first time Linda had seen Frances like that. That only confirmed Linda’s suspicion.

Linda sighed again. “Did you perhaps think you could ‘store’ a kidney in your freezer and sell it next week?”

Frances was silent for a few moments, and Linda didn’t push her for an answer.

“Yes,” Frances whispered, looking embarrassed.

“That’s not how it works,” Linda said, exasperated. “Even if I provide the surgical expertise, you would need recipients ready for immediate transplants. And you can’t just take an organ from one person and give it to another. Compatibility matters. You can’t transplant an incompatible organ. Don’t believe everything you see in movies; most of it is exaggerated.”

“Really?” Frances asked.

“Yes,” Linda deadpanned.

Frances actually looked disappointed.

‘Just how badly did she want to sell the debtors’ organs?’ Linda thought, almost amused.

“And why would you remove your own sources of income?” Linda asked, genuinely curious.

Frances looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“A dead or crippled debtor can’t keep paying you. Isn’t it better to get recurring income from people who stay alive, keep working, and keep borrowing? There are other ways to collect the money without killing them or leaving them unable to work. Otherwise, you’re destroying your own income stream,” Linda explained.

Frances considered that for a moment.

Frances didn’t bring up the topic again, and they discussed other ways to collect from borrowers who either couldn’t pay or refused to.

Linda sighed with relief when she left Frances’s office. She was grateful she had proven herself valuable enough not to get sacked for pissing on the CEO’s dream.

Linda chuckled as she returned to her room. “What a silly girl—”

The words died on her lips, and the smile froze on her face. Her eyes widened as a thought suddenly struck her.

No matter how desensitized she had been, before meeting Frances, she would have been appalled by anyone even suggesting organ harvesting, let alone actually participating in it. Yet earlier, she had felt only slight discomfort. She had even patiently explained why it wasn’t viable. Not why it was wrong. Why it wasn’t viable.

People could change over time, but a shift this drastic shouldn’t have happened in less than two months.

Something was wrong. Something was extremely wrong.

Linda thought hard about what the problem might be. She replayed moments from her life since she had met Frances, but nothing stood out. Everything felt normal. Too normal.

Then a possibility occurred to her.

She knew Frances was a mutant who could weaponize sound. But what if that wasn’t the only sound power Frances had? If sound could be used to attack someone physically, couldn’t certain frequencies also affect their emotions? What if Frances had that power too?

Linda realized that Frances had probably been using it on her.

Linda broke out in a cold sweat. If she was right, Frances wasn’t just dangerous to Linda. She could eventually become a threat to the entire world. She knew Frances regularly trained both her combat skills and her powers, constantly pushing herself to improve. That meant her power would only grow. That could be catastrophic.

Linda considered her options. She could report Frances to the police, or even contact the Avengers. Since Frances was a mutant, she could also try to ask the X-Men for help. She knew that, as part of the gang, she could go to prison too, but with the danger Frances posed, that felt like a small price to pay.

She stayed up the entire night creating an extremely detailed file on the gang. As the gang’s private physician, she reported directly to Frances and knew almost everything happening within the organization.

She looked at the thick file and knew that if she handed it over to the right authorities, Frances could be stopped before she caused any major damage.

However, Linda didn’t do anything with the file. She simply sat in front of her computer, staring at it.

Finally, she reached for the file.

One by one, she tore every page into tiny pieces. Then she set them on fire. While they burned, she formatted the drive, opened the computer, pulled out the SSD, and smashed it with a hammer.

Even Linda couldn’t explain why she had done it.

“Maybe things aren’t as bad as they seem,” Linda whispered. “Frances agreed when I asked to treat the locals. She even accepted my explanation for why organ harvesting wouldn’t work. It doesn’t matter why she dropped the idea; what matters is that she dropped it.”

Linda felt a flicker of hope.

“Maybe this is the right choice,” Linda whispered. “Yes, maybe I can’t make her give up being a gang leader, but I can stop her from doing anything extreme.”

Her eyes brightened. “Maybe I can fix her.”

Linda’s thoughts returned to the present as she reached the two men.

He only had another split lip from when Frances punched him after he briefly regained consciousness, knocking him out again.

The lean man, however, was another matter entirely. To her, he was a medical anomaly, even with superpowered people now popping up here and there. No matter how badly Frances and the others beat him, he would heal completely on his own within an hour. She realized that bandaging his wounds wasn’t really necessary, since he would heal perfectly well without it. However, Frances insisted that Linda patch him up every time, since, for some reason, Frances didn’t want him to die yet.

Within a few minutes, Linda cleaned their new wounds and bandaged them.

She didn’t know why Frances had captured these two men. They had been there since the morning, getting beaten up at regular intervals. From Frances’s expression, Linda could tell that she was waiting for someone. Stranger still, she looked eager.

Linda’s attention returned to the lean man. She wondered what gave him his healing factor. What made the man so special?

The scientist in her burned to uncover his secrets. She knew there was no way this man—or his buddy, for that matter—was walking out of here alive. So, wasn’t it better for him to contribute to the betterment of science?

Linda gave a small shake of her head and frowned at the thought.

‘Maybe I am thinking too much,’ she thought. ‘It’s just scientific curiosity.’

Linda pushed the thought aside, returned to her chair, and resumed reading the medical journal.

About half an hour later, Frances received a call. To Linda’s surprise, Frances’s face actually brightened.

Frances hung up, then turned to Daniel. “Someone’s at the door. Go bring him in.”

A few minutes later, Daniel returned with a man wearing a T-shirt, track pants, and an expressionless white mask.

The moment he entered, he cast a cursory glance over everyone present. However, his gaze lingered on two people: Linda and Mary MacPherran.

Linda could understand why he had noticed her—she was the gang’s doctor—but she couldn’t understand what was special about Mary.

Mary had joined the gang only a few days before Linda had. She was extremely thin. Linda had put the girl on a proper diet regimen, which had finally put some flesh on her bones. She looked much healthier now, but otherwise there was nothing particularly remarkable about her. She wasn’t especially attractive, nor did she hold any important position in the gang. Linda had nothing against the girl, but she couldn’t understand why the masked man had singled out the two of them.

“Boss.”

Everyone turned toward the voice.

Frances wore a bright smile as she skipped over to the masked man. She took his arm and pulled him toward her seat, still wearing that smile. “Come, sit here, Boss.”

Every gang member in the room stared at her, jaws practically hitting the floor. No one could believe that the ruthless Frances Barrison, who could kill without batting an eye, had such a girly side.

However, that wasn’t the end.

Frances picked up a cushion she had left on the table beside her chair and placed it on the seat. “Boss, sit here,” Frances said, guiding him into the chair.

When Linda saw Frances bring the cushion earlier, she assumed it was for herself. When Frances had simply left it on the table instead, Linda had been confused, but she hadn’t bothered asking about it. She would never have guessed that this was why Frances had brought it.

“What about you?” the man asked casually.

Apparently, the miracles weren’t over.

“Don’t worry, Boss,” Frances said. She stepped behind him and began massaging his shoulders.

Everyone in the room could only stare as one shock followed another.

Daniel took a step towards them. Hesitantly, he asked, “Boss, do you want me to do it instead?”

Frances’s expression went blank. She turned a cold gaze on him without stopping the massage. Daniel broke out in a cold sweat under her gaze.

“S-sorry, Boss,” Daniel stammered, backing off.

For about ten minutes, the man did nothing but enjoy Frances’s massage. Frances showed no sign of reluctance as she continued.

Finally, the masked man gestured. Frances stopped and stood by his side as he turned his attention to the lean man in front of him.

Frances understood what the man wanted. She turned to Mike. “Wake him up.”

Mike nodded and dumped a bucketful of ice-cold water over the lean man. He woke with a gasp and immediately started shivering.

“Hello, Mr. Sing. It’s nice to finally meet you,” the masked man said evenly. “How are we doing this fine evening?”

“W-who are you?” Sing asked, shivering. “What do you want? Please let us go.”

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” the masked man said. “However, I do want something from you.”

“I’ll tell you anything,” Sing pleaded. “Please let us go.”

In truth, Sing had already broken under the repeated beatings and was ready to tell them anything they wanted to know. Unfortunately for him, they had nothing to ask him.

“Very well.” The masked man nodded. “Are you a member of the Axe Gang?”

“Y-yes. I joined a few days ago,” Sing answered quietly.

Linda wondered if some kind of gang feud was the reason the masked man had ordered the pair kidnapped. But that didn’t make much sense to her. Neither of them looked like a high-ranking gang member worth this much trouble.

“What have you done for them so far?” the masked man asked.

“They only gave me one job. Other than that, nothing,” Sing said, sounding frustrated.

“Oh?” The masked man leaned in. “What is it?”

“They asked me to free someone named Beast from a mental asylum. They wanted me to pick the lock on his door,” Sing answered.

“Are you good at lockpicking?” the masked man asked with interest.

“Yes, yes,” Sing answered with renewed energy as hope returned to his eyes. “Please, Boss, let me work for you. I promise I can pick any lock you need.”

“We’ll see,” the masked man said, pulling a phone from his pocket.

“Beast is out. They should be on their way to defeat him. Keep an eye on them and follow with the others. Stay out of sight.”

The masked man hung up.

“Boss, please spare us,” Sing pleaded again.

“Answer one more question,” the masked man said.

“Okay, Boss,” Sing replied nervously.

“Where do you keep the Buddha’s Palm martial arts manual?” the masked man asked.

Sing’s eyes widened. “H-how do you know about that?”

“It doesn’t matter how I know,” the masked man said, his voice lowering. “What matters is that I want it.”

“But it’s fake. The old man who sold it to me when I was a child was just trying to scam me,” Sing said quickly.

Frances backhanded him across the face. “Answer what you’re asked.”

Sing’s head whipped to the side, and blood spilled from his mouth. Terrified, he told them where he had kept the manual.

The masked man listened, then pulled out his phone again and dialed a number.

“I have a job for you. I’m sending you an address. Find a tattered booklet written in Chinese with ‘Buddha’s Palm’ on the cover.”

The masked man gave a few more instructions, then hung up. He punched Sing, knocking him unconscious again.

Frances left with the masked man without saying where they were going. No one dared to ask her where they were going.

An hour later, they returned. Frances’s face was flushed. Another woman entered behind them, wearing a black bodysuit and a domino mask. Linda noticed that a few of the gang members recognized her.

“Here.” The woman in the black bodysuit handed the masked man a booklet.

“Thanks.” The masked man gave her a nod.

The woman left.

The masked man turned his attention back to the two tied men. He looked over the weapons laid out on the table and picked up an axe.

He looked at Sing and said, “I heard you have a pretty amazing healing factor. If you can survive decapitation, I promise to let you go.”

Unfortunately, Sing was still unconscious. Then again, perhaps that was for the best.

The masked man brought the axe down and lopped off Sing’s head in a single blow.

He looked at Sing’s head, which had rolled a short distance away. “Guess you can’t heal a severed head.”

Linda wondered how the masked man could be so sure that Sing was truly dead. She didn’t really believe he could survive decapitation, but after seeing his earlier feats, a small doubt remained. Yet with a single glance, the masked man seemed certain that Sing was truly dead.

With another swing, the masked man decapitated the fat man as well.

“Take care of the bodies,” the masked man said.

Frances nodded and glanced at Mike, who nodded back.

At that moment, Linda felt an impulse.

“Boss,” Linda suddenly called out.

Linda was the only one in Frances’s gang who called Frances by her name. Linda didn’t know why she had called the masked man Boss. Maybe she was influenced by Frances. Unexpectedly, Frances didn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, she acted as though there was nothing strange about what Linda had done.

The masked man turned towards her.

“Can I study Sing’s body?” Linda asked without hesitation. Whatever reluctance she had felt while Sing was alive had vanished now that he was dead. If he couldn’t contribute to science while alive, he could at least do so in death.

The masked man studied Linda for a moment, then nodded. “Sure.”

“Thanks, Boss.” Linda smiled.

The masked man left, with Frances following closely behind.