amaotonovel Chapter 3948 MU Superbody Major Event (28)
Chapter 3948 MU Superbody Major Event (28)
Chapter 3948 MU: The Superbody Incident (Twenty-Eight)
Manhattan at night possesses an indifferent, austere quality. When the black of shadows intertwines with the white of lights, it resembles the open eyes of some colossal creature on the coastline. Everything here is merely nameless dust floating before its eyes, indifferent to all things, whether born or dying.
"Good evening, sir." A gloved hand opened the car door. A portly man got in. The driver walked around the car and returned to the driver's seat. As the engine was started, the aroma of cigars filled the car.
"That Kyle guy's making the boss unhappy, you need to send someone to deal with him as soon as possible. Also, if your good-for-nothing son of a bitch isn't planning on losing another fortune on the stock market, he should fucking dump Stuart's..."
The man in the back seat took another deep drag of his cigar, thick smoke swirling around his mouth and nose. He spoke loudly on the phone, coughing or sniffing every now and then. Only when the car drove over a puddle and lurched did he take the phone away from his ear and call out to the driver:
"What the hell is going on? Why hasn't anyone come to fix this lousy road?"
“Excuse me, sir, this is the edge of Brooklyn, and the road conditions aren’t great. If you’re not in a hurry, I can slow down…”
Just then, the oncoming headlights flashed, and the driver slammed on the brakes. The man in the back seat slammed his head against the headrest of the seat in front of him. "Ouch, shit!"
Before he could speak, he saw the car opposite him suddenly reverse and crash into him again. With a loud bang, the car the man was in was sent flying several meters backward.
The front airbag deployed, leaving the driver immobile and his fate unknown. The man gritted his teeth, stomped out of the car, blood smeared on half his face, some trickling into his mouth. He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and cursed at the other side, "You damned bastard! Don't you know who I am?!"
The oncoming car's high beams were still on, blinding him completely. He vaguely saw a figure get out, and the man shouted menacingly, "Damn it, you're Kyle's man! He must have sent you to kill me! You betrayed Kingpin, he won't let you get away with this!!!"
"Bang!" The silenced gunshot was very soft, and it didn't even travel beyond the street before dissipating into the chaotic Brooklyn night.
The high beams were off. The tall, slender figure put the gun back in the pocket of his long black trench coat, turned, and walked back to the passenger seat. The young man in the driver's seat raised an eyebrow at him and said, "My driving skills are pretty good, aren't they?"
"Not bad." The other person looked down and took out a small black notebook, crossed out a name, and then looked up at the name at the top—"Kingpin".
"What did you say?! Laune is dead?!"
Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Manhattan skyline at night, an extremely tall and muscular figure turned his head. His face was full of menacing features, and his anger made his expression even more ferocious; the cigar in his hand was almost crushed into powder.
"Damn it, who dares to be so bold?! Could it be... no, that kid in the bodysuit doesn't kill people. Could it be the Punisher?" The other person rolled their eyes and said, "Go and investigate, see if it was that guy called the Punisher who did it!"
“I’m afraid it’s not him.” The office door opened, and a blonde woman in a suit walked in, the sound of her high heels clicking rhythmically. She said, “The Punisher is a violent maniac. When he clashes with our people, the scenes are often extremely gruesome, and even a dozen cleaners can’t clean up the mess. But this time is different. The other party acted cleanly and efficiently, all of them dying instantly from gunshot wounds to the head. It looks like the work of a professional assassin.”
"Professional assassins? Could it be Manfred's gang again? I even kicked that bastard Silvio out of Long Island, how could he afford to hire professional assassins like these?!"
"Never underestimate New York's biggest mob family. Right now, those Russians are in the limelight, but Manfred is just lying low, still pulling off just as many dirty tricks in the shadows. Hammerhead learned his lesson from them."
The woman crossed her arms, tapped one foot on the ground, and said, "Mr. Kingpin, whether it's Laune or the Cardinal Lefak who died before, they're just minor characters, not worth your time."
“But they’re all my men!” Kingpin’s face twitched. “In the New York underworld, if you can’t avenge your killed men, nobody will follow you. That skinny kid has already given me a lot of trouble, but I still can’t catch him. If this keeps up, I’ll lose all face!”
"Perhaps you should consider why someone would hire a professional assassin to kill your men. Judging from the timing and method of their actions, they are definitely top-tier assassins, not the kind you can hire for a few tens of thousands of dollars. It's strange that they're willing to spend so much money to kill insignificant small fry, isn't it?"
Kingpin narrowed his eyes slightly. He tossed aside the cigar he had been holding, picked up a pre-cut cigar from the tray, lit it, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled the smoke. His facial muscles relaxed slightly as he said, "A professional assassin... Looks like another formidable figure has arrived in New York. But who would spend a fortune to hire an assassin to kill my men?"
What common characteristics did the two deceased individuals have?
"Common characteristics?" Kingpin thought for a moment, then suddenly waved to his subordinates and said, "Go and get the map."
The subordinate nodded, quickly went to the adjacent office, and retrieved a map of New York. It was marked with lines in various colors of markers. Kingpin stared at the map, his finger tracing one of the lines.
“This is Laurie’s drug trafficking route. It goes across the bridge, through Brooklyn, and then into Manhattan. He’s basically bribed all the police along the way, so he’s never had any problems. The Cardinals use the same route, also through Brooklyn, but he’s more cunning; he goes through Manhattan’s sewers. And the point where their drug trafficking routes intersect…”
Jin lightly tapped a spot on the map with his finger, a place on the edge of Brooklyn. "Where is this?"
Another subordinate walked over, glanced at the area, and said, "This is 'Puzzle's' territory; his gang operates in this area."
Kingpin's eyes darted around, and he said, "Could it be that he's unhappy with my men coming and going freely on his territory?"
“I’m afraid not,” the woman said. “If that were the case, he would choose a gang shootout. Not only would he teach Laune and his gang a lesson, but he could also intercept the drugs. That would be the most profitable way. Paying a lot of money to hire someone to kill them would make them lose everything.”
“But he’s inextricably linked to this.” Kingpin’s expression turned cold. “I remember he was the one who killed the Punisher’s entire family. Has he been bothering them recently?”
He glanced at his subordinate, who shook his head.
“Then let’s give the Punisher a clue and let him cause trouble in their territory. If it really was the Puzzle, they’ll slip up sooner or later.”
“And tell me about the Manfredy family,” Kingpin said, tapping the ground lightly with his cane. “What have they been up to on Long Island lately?”
"There's no news, but I heard they recently invested in a project called Norton Experimental Sciences."
"What do you do?"
"I heard it's supposed to be the development of a new weapon, but it's more likely a scam. The company behind this project has gone through three bankruptcy reorganizations and has a very low reputation in the industry. Large companies that are willing to invest in scientific projects generally don't choose them, and this is the first time the Manfredi family has entered the field."
"How much money did they invest?"
"The first round of financing was US$20 million."
Kingpin paused, his hand still: "Didn't they do any due diligence before investing? How dare they make such a huge bet in an area they're completely unfamiliar with?"
"That's not surprising. After all, once we established ourselves in Manhattan, their influence was almost completely driven out. And as the once most powerful gangster family in New York, they won't just give up and stay in one place; they'll definitely try to come back. Some new type of weapon might be their chance to turn things around."
Kingpin snorted and said, "This isn't the Prohibition era anymore. Those Italian family gangs are long outdated. The modern corporate gang is the only way out. They think they can come back with some new weapons? That's a complete fantasy."
"That being said, they wouldn't have invested so much money if they hadn't seen hope. $20 million is no small sum; it might be all the money they have right now."
“Go and find out what’s going on with this Norton Experimental Science,” Kingpin said, frowning. “Also, find out who in the Manfredi family orchestrated this investment.”
“I’m afraid it’s Silvermane, Silvio Manfredi,” the woman said, tossing her hair. “He’s been holding a grudge ever since you kicked him out of Manhattan. This huge investment is also his way of getting revenge on you someday.”
“That day will never come,” Kingpin said, pursing his lips. “If that money had really gone in, Manfred wouldn’t have had the money to hire a hitman. Could it really be a puzzle piece?”
Kingpin stared at the map; another line extended from the intersection he had pointed out earlier. He said, "If he's targeting this place, Kyle won't escape either. He'll be next. That damned traitor won't live much longer."
He turned to look out the window at the Manhattan nightscape, the streetlights illuminating the streets casting a chilling white glow. Under this light, blood would lose its original color, becoming closer to a colorless white, like flowing mercury.
A pale, bloody liquid seeped from the crack in the bar's back door, flowing into the rusty sewer drain. More blood pooled into a stream, and white foam began to rise from the drain opening. Tactical boots were splattered with muddy water, and as a body was dragged out, the blood flowed even more violently.
The tall man wore a sleeveless shirt that completely exposed his arms, carried a compound bow on his back, and held a long spear in his hand. In the moonlight, the crisscrossing scars on his body told tales of a weathered past. He dragged the corpse step by step, his steps firm and his movements swift.
Upon hearing the slightest sound from the side, he swiftly raised his gun. A figure in a long black trench coat, half-hidden in the darkness, his face obscured by the low brim of his hat, but his build suggested he was very young.
He only showed himself briefly before disappearing in a flash. The burly man dragging the corpse tossed it aside and gave chase, only to find the seemingly thin young man incredibly fast. Even in his cumbersome trench coat, he moved with lightning speed through the alleyways. The pursuer nearly lost him several times.
Finally, he stopped in a dark alley. He took off his hat and turned around, revealing a young but sharp-featured face and a pair of gray eyes almost completely hidden in the shadows of his brows.
"Hello, Punisher."