Despite her plan being aptly summarized by the term 'Blitzkrieg' the E88 was not her first target.
No, that honor went to the Asian Bad Boys. Even now, with the clock ticking down on her ultimatum, she could see the 'Farms' still bustling with patrons.
She'd heard stories, of course. Everyone had heard the stories. But hearing a boogeyman's tale and seeing it were two entirely different things. If there was any doubt in her mind about what she was going to do in the coming hours, they fled the moment she saw the Farms.
Her hands clenched and her eyes began to fill with heat. She couldn't bring herself to look away from the girls being abused. It was her grace period that allowed the suffering to continue, the least she could do was watch.
The Farms were terrible and were enough of an incentive to attack the ABB first, but they weren't her main reason. Lung and Oni Lee, their potential for collateral damage far outstripped the others and it was better to strike them down while they still thought her boasts to be empty.
Taylor glanced at her phone, only a minute left until the grace period was over. A quick spin revealed that the Gangs while on a bit higher alert, were still relatively lax. No one had taken the out she had given them. What a pity.
Her eyes lingered on the group of teenagers lounging on couches in an abandoned building. They would be last on her list. Their leader, Tattletale was an interesting one, a Thinker of some kind. From what she managed to glean from her spying over the last 24-hours, Tattletale thought that while Taylor was being serious she would not be able to beat all the gangs.
Hopefully, once Taylor started, Tattletale would be able to read the writing on the wall and get her team to the PRT. Their age and minor crimes made her feel that they could still turn around, killing them wouldn't really feel good. She still would of course, after all, her reputation needed to be unassailable.
With her plans for the future, having a strong reputation for sticking to her words would make everything easier. She couldn't leave any room for doubt.
Her debut would serve as an example, and she hoped that once she has shown her seriousness, criminals would just turn themselves in the moment she appeared in their city. Such a thought brought a smile to her face.
Her alarm started ringing.
It was time.
/
Lung was eating rice in his top floor apartment. If she couldn't see his strangely dense muscle structure and his unique tattoos, she may have thought she had the wrong place. Because while it was undeniably Asian-themed, it didn't exactly scream crime lord either. No cocaine lines, guns left haphazardly on the counters, or any of the other stereotypical paraphernalia.
It was just an apartment with a man eating lunch.
She took it all in as she hurtled down to earth at several times the speed of sound. Crashing through the roof feet first, with an arm stiffly outstretched, she vertically cleaved the still-sitting man in half from head to chest. The thickness of her arm meant it was more of a pulping force rather than a cutting one. His head had all but exploded under the extreme forces.
With a wet sensation, she pulled her arm free of the remains.
As she studied the bloody mess at her feet, watching in slow motion as the bits of brain matter tumbled through the air in all directions, carefully looking for any sign of regeneration. When she saw the neurons going dark and nothing else happened, she couldn't help but feel a measure of disbelief. A feeling which swiftly morphed into rage.
Part of her had hoped that it wouldn't work, that there was a reason that a monster like Lung was still walking free. But there wasn't one, and Lung was dead.
The Heroes could have killed Lung at any time, but they chose not to. Allowing hundreds of deaths over the years, and for what? How many men, women, and children had died or suffered due to this thing still being allowed to draw air?
The only reason Lung was able to thrive was because no one was willing to just simply kill him. Sure, in his dragon form he was all but impossible to fight. But that was the keyword, fight. So long as you got the first hit and made it count, in his base form he went down like any other man.
If a normal man had killed even a single person with a gun, let alone the dozens that Lung had, the cops would have gunned him down on the spot. But because Lung had powers, he got to live? How was this fair? How did any of this make sense to anyone?
Why didn't Miss Militia just post up on a building and start dropping them?
Didn't Swat teams have snipers for dealing with stuff like this? Why couldn't they just shoot him?
It didn't make any sense.
Taylor shook her head, it didn't matter. Once the dust had settled she would question why the world was the way it was. At the moment she still had work to do.
With the threat of an angry dragon gone, the world sped back up, the sonic boom from her original descent finally reached the apartment. Taylor was already flying back out of the hole she'd made. She had to work quickly before the element of surprise was gone and the gangs realized what was happening.
Oni Lee met much the same fate several blocks away, not even a half minute after the death of his boss.
The moment the last cape fell, she moved on the Farms. Turning it from a carnal house to a charnel house.
It was grisly work, but seeing the looks of awed disbelief on the girls' faces after she'd blurred them all over to the nearby hospital had made it all worth it.