My Marvel Reincarnation Came with a Torture Bonus

The warehouse was dead silent, except for the faint shuffling of cards and the occasional sigh from the two gang bosses.

"Alright, I'll play this," Val muttered, placing his card down.

The Russian boss squinted at his hand, hesitated, then carefully placed four 10s. "That should do it."

Val froze.

His heart skipped a beat. Then another.

The red light on his chest started blinking faster, the beeping becoming more intense.

All around them, gangsters instantly hit the floor. Pork slabs and stacks of money were abandoned as men curled up, hands over their heads, praying to whatever deity they believed in.

The Warehouse boss shot the Russian boss a murderous glare. Are you insane?! You're trying to win! You know what happens if he loses!

The Russian boss's eye twitched. It's a card game! I'm supposed to win!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Sweat dripped down Val's forehead. He stared at his remaining two cards like they were a death sentence.

With shaking hands, the Russian boss slowly placed a 5.

Val's breathing hitched. The beeping intensified.

The Warehouse boss panicked. "Here 2 and a 3. I will play them both. I WIN!"

Silence.

The beeping slowed.

The red light dimmed.

Val blinked. Then exhaled in relief. "Phew. That was close."

The Warehouse boss collapsed onto the table, gripping his chest like he had narrowly survived cardiac arrest.

Val, completely unfazed, grinned and held out his hand. "Alright, time to pay up!"

With dead expressions, the two bosses silently pulled out their money and handed it over.

This was not the first time Val had tried this trick. Every time he was about to loose he would intentionally increase his heartbeat and force the other two into loosing. Although they both knew, it's not like they can do anything about it.

As Val cheerfully pocketed his winnings, the Russian boss suddenly perked up. "Wait. Wasn't this the twentieth round?"

The Warehouse boss snapped upright. "It was!"

Val, stuffing cash into his pockets, shrugged. "Oh yeah, I guess so. Cool. That means we can wrap things up after one final trade."

The two bosses exchanged exhausted, knowing looks, then forced smiles.

"It was a pleasure doing business," they both muttered in unison.

[Target meets the conditions]

Val stood up and stretched, cracking his neck dramatically. "In this case, I should go too."

The moment the words left his mouth, the entire Warehouse erupted—not in flames just yet, but in celebration. The gangsters, hardened criminals with faces that had seen horrors untold, were now struggling to hold back tears of joy. If anyone had a confetti cannon, it would've gone off right there. The lunatic obsessed with cards was finally leaving.

The two bosses, despite their cold and ruthless reputations, had to physically restrain themselves from doing a synchronized happy dance. Instead, they hurriedly followed Val toward the gate, all while trying to maintain the solemn expressions of men who hadn't just won the lottery.

Val stopped at the gate and turned, looking at them with reluctance "No need to see me off," he sighed dramatically. "I know this is hard for you, but just remember the good times we had tonight. The laughs. The bonding. The deep emotional connections we formed."

The gangsters collectively blinked. Deep emotional connections? The only deep thing they felt was the hole in their patience every time Val opened his mouth.

Fortunately, the people present had adapted to the situation and they were able to keep their expressions from showing up on their faces.

Anyway, this lunatic is leaving, and they don't care what he says anymore.

Val, oblivious to their silence, continued. "But alas, I must go. Fear not! For I shall leave you with a gift!"

The gangsters were instantly on alert. A gift? They had no idea what the lunatic will consider as a gift.

Val then yanked something off his chest and held it up dramatically. "Behold! A bomb, carefully designed by yours truly! May you have a delightful evening with the death goddess!"

There was a long, painful silence where everyone processed those words. Then, chaos.

"FUCK"

Val didn't wait for them to react further. With the enthusiasm of a child throwing a water balloon, he dropped the bomb at their feet and took off running.

"EVERYONE, RUN!" one of the gangsters shrieked, launching himself out of a window he definitely didn't fit through.

"I KNEW HE WAS CRAZY! I TOLD YOU ALL!" another one screamed while trying to climb into a ventilation shaft like a terrified cat.

BOOM!

The explosion tore through the Warehouse, sending shock waves down the street. Car alarms blared. Streetlights flickered.

As for Val, well… he didn't exactly run fast enough. Before he even ran a few steps, he felt a huge shock wave coming from his back, throwing his body into the air and falling in a distance.

After a few seconds, Val got up from the ground as the buzzing sound in his head gradually weakened. He then took out several sharp pieces of iron that were squeezed into his back.

"Ugh… worth it."

He pushed himself up, dusted off his coat, and turned to admire his handiwork. The Warehouse was now a flaming inferno, thick smoke curling into the sky.

"Beautiful," he sighed dreamily, pulling a small remote from his pocket—the actual detonator for the bomb. Because, of course, the whole 'heartbeat-detecting' thing was just a load of nonsense he made up for dramatic effect.

Not that it mattered now. The real tragedy? He never got the 20 million dollars he was after. Turns out, gangsters are incredibly stubborn when it comes to parting with large sums of money. Who knew?

'Maybe I should have just asked for a million?'

Still, Val patted his pockets, feeling the thick wads of cash he had swindled from them in poker. "At least I got a consolation prize," he mused. "And the thrill of a good explosion. Priceless."

Humming a tune, he strolled down the empty street, feeling the warmth of both the fire behind him and the pure, undiluted joy in his heart.

He couldn't help but wonder what his past self would think of his current behavior. Perhaps he would be scared of himself, too. But at this moment, Val couldn't bring himself to feel remorseful.

The thrill of his actions just now still coursed through his veins, filling him with a weird sense of satisfaction that he couldn't just ignore.