Chapter 3937

Manhattan at night has a kind of indifferent and cold temperament. When the black of shadows and the white of lights are intertwined, it is like the eyes of some behemoth opening on the coastline. Everything here is just nameless dust floating in front of his eyes; whether born or passed away, it equally ignores everything in front of it.

"Good evening, sir." A hand wearing a white glove opened the car door. The pot-bellied man sat in the car. The driver went around the car and sat back in the driver's seat. When the ignition started, the scent of cigars permeated the carriage.

"Kyle made the boss unhappy, you have to send someone to deal with him as soon as possible. Also, if that useless little bastard in your family doesn't intend to lose another big sum on stocks, tell him to dump Stewart's immediately..."

The man in the back seat sucked on his cigar hard again, and the rich smoke lingered between his mouth and nose. He was talking on the phone loudly, occasionally coughing or sniffing. Until the car pressed over a puddle and the car body bumped, he took the phone away from his ear and shouted at the driver:

"What the hell is this? Why hasn't anyone come to fix this broken road?"

"Sorry, sir, this is the edge of Brooklyn, the road conditions are not good. If you are not in a hurry, I can slow down..."

Just after saying this, the high beams on the opposite side flashed, the driver slammed on the brakes, and the man in the back seat hit his head heavily on the headrest of the front seat. "Oh, shit!"

Before he could speak, he saw the car opposite suddenly reverse and hit again. With a "bang", the car the man was in was pushed back several meters.

The airbag in the front seat popped out, the driver was unable to move, life or death unknown. The man gritted his teeth and got out of the car, blood smeared on half of his face, some flowing into his mouth. He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and cursed at the opposite side: "You damn bastard! Don't you know who I am?!"

The high beams of the car opposite were never turned off, shaking him so he couldn't see anything. Vaguely, he saw a figure come down, and the man shouted bluffingly: "Damn it, you're Kyle's man! It must be him who sent you to kill me! You betrayed Kingpin, he won't let you go!!!"

"Pop!" The sound of the silencer was very light, not even spreading out of this street, and dissipated in the chaotic night of Brooklyn.

The high beams were turned off, and the slender figure put the gun back into the pocket of the black windbreaker, turned and walked back to the passenger seat of the car and sat down. And the young man sitting in the driver's seat raised his eyebrows at him and said: "My driving skills are not bad, right?"

"Not bad." He lowered his head and took out a small black notebook, crossed out a name from it, and then looked up at the name at the very top—"Kingpin".

"What did you say?! Launay is dead?!"

In front of the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the night of Manhattan, an extremely tall and strong figure turned around. He was full of fat, anger made his expression even more ferocious, and the cigar in his hand was almost pinched into powder by him.

"Damn it, who is so bold?! Could it be... no, that kid in tights doesn't kill. Is it the Punisher?" The other party rolled his eyes and said, "Go check for me, see if it's that guy called the Punisher!"

"I'm afraid it's not him." The office door was pushed open, and a blonde woman in a suit walked in, the sound of high heels stepping rhythmically, she said, "The Punisher is a violent maniac, and when he clashes with our people, the scene is often very tragic, and more than a dozen cleaners can't clean up the scene. But this time it's different; the other party acted cleanly and neatly, all shot in the head and killed with one hit, looking like a professional killer."

"Professional killer? Could it be Manfredi's group again? Silvio, that bastard, was driven to Long Island by me, and he can still afford such a professional killer?!"

"Never underestimate the biggest mafia family in New York. Now it's those Russians who are in the limelight, but Manfredi is just dormant, and the little tricks he does in the dark are not few. Hammerhead has suffered losses in their hands."

The woman hugged her arms, and one of her feet pointed on the ground and said: "Mr. Kingpin, whether it's Launay, or the Red Cardinal Lefak who died before, they are just some small roles, not worth worrying about."

"But they are all my people!" Kingpin's face twitched, "In the New York underworld, if you can't avenge your killed subordinates, no one will follow you. That kid in tights has already caused me quite a bit of trouble, but I can't catch him. If this continues, I will lose all my face!"

"Perhaps you should think about why someone would hire a professional killer to kill your subordinates. Judging from the timing and technique of the other party's actions, it is definitely a top killer, not something that can be hired for a few tens of thousands of dollars. It's strange that the other party is willing to spend so much money, but only kills some insignificant small roles, right?"

Kingpin narrowed his eyes slightly, he threw away the original cigar, picked up a cut cigar from the tray and lit it, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, his facial muscles relaxed slightly, and said: "Professional killer... it seems New York has another powerful person. But who would spend a lot of money to hire a killer to kill my subordinates?"

"What are the common characteristics of the two dead people?"

"Common characteristics?" Kingpin thought for a while, and suddenly waved his hand to his subordinates and said, "Go get the map."

The subordinate nodded and walked quickly to the office next door, taking the New York map. It was marked with one line after another with various colored markers. Kingpin stared at the map, his fingers groping on one of the lines.

"This is Launay's drug trafficking route, taking the bridge from here, passing through Brooklyn, and then coming to Manhattan. The police on the road have basically been bought by him, and there has never been a problem. Red Cardinal, that guy, is this route, also passing through Brooklyn, but he is more cunning, taking the Manhattan sewer. And the intersection of their drug trafficking routes..."

Kingpin gently tapped a place on the map with his finger, which was exactly a place on the edge of Brooklyn. "Where is this?"

Another subordinate walked over to take a look and said: "This is the territory of 'Jigsaw', his gang is active in this area."

Kingpin's eyeballs turned and said: "Could it be that he is unhappy that my subordinates come and go freely in his territory?"

"I'm afraid not." The woman said, "If that were the case, he would choose the way of gang warfare, not only to teach Launay and the others a lesson, but also to intercept the drugs, which is the most profitable way. Spending a lot of money to hire a killer will make them lose their pants."

"But this has something to do with him." Kingpin's expression became indifferent, and he said, "I remember it was he who killed the Punisher's whole family. Recently, has he gone to find them trouble?"

He looked at his subordinate, who shook his head.

"Then go give the Punisher some clues, let him go to their territory and make a scene. If it really is Jigsaw who did it, he will show his feet sooner or later."

"Let's talk about the Manfredi family." Kingpin tapped the ground with his cane and said, "What have they been doing in Long Island recently?"

"No news, but I heard they recently invested in a project called Norton Experimental Science."

"What is it doing?"

"I heard it seems to be new weapon research, but it is more likely to be a scam. Because the company behind this project has had three bankruptcy reorganizations, and its reputation in the industry is extremely low. General large enterprises willing to invest in scientific projects will not choose them, and the Manfredi family is also entering the market for the first time."

"How much money did they invest?"

"The first round of financing is 20 million US dollars."

Kingpin's hand paused: "Didn't they do due diligence before investing? Dare to bet so heavily in a field they are not familiar with at all?"

"This is not strange. After all, since we stood firm in Manhattan, their influence has been almost completely driven out. And as the most glorious mafia family in New York, they will not give up and stay in one corner, they will definitely find a way to come back. Some kind of new weapon might be the opportunity for them to turn over."

Kingpin snorted coldly and said: "Now is not the Prohibition era, that bunch of Italian mafia families has long been outdated. Modern mafia in company form is the only way out, they want to kill back with some new weapon, it is completely a fantasy."

"That said, if they didn't see hope, they couldn't have invested so much money. 20 million US dollars is not a small amount, perhaps it is all the funds they can take out now."

"Go check for me what this Norton Experimental Science is all about." Kingpin frowned and said, "Also, which person in the Manfredi family led this investment."

"I'm afraid it's Silvermane, that is, Silvio Manfredi." The woman flicked her hair and said, "He has always been brooding about you driving him out of Manhattan. This big investment is also to find a place back from you one day."

"There will never be such a day." Kingpin pursed his lips and said, "If this money is really invested, then Manfredi cannot have money to find a killer. Could it really be Jigsaw?"

Kingpin stared at the map, and another line extended from the intersection he pointed out before. He said: "If he kills with this as the goal, then Kyle can't run away either, the next one to die will be him. This damn traitor won't live long."

He turned to look at the night in Manhattan outside the window, the street lamps lit on both sides of the street emitting fearful white light. Under the reflection of this light, blood will lose its original color and become closer to colorless white, like flowing mercury.

Liquid with a pale white light flowed out from the crack in the back door of the bar, flowed into the rusty sewer entrance along the way. More blood gathered into a small stream, and the sewer entrance began to bubble with white foam. The surface of the tactical boots was splashed with stars of muddy water, and with a corpse being dragged out, the blood flowed even more fiercely.

The tall man wore a sleeveless top that completely exposed his arms, with a compound bow on his back and a long gun in his hand. Under the illumination of the moonlight, the crisscrossing scars on his body told of the vicissitudes of the past. He dragged the corpse step by step, his steps firm and his actions swift.

And when he heard a little movement from the side, he raised his gun quickly. A figure in a black windbreaker, half of his body hidden in the darkness, the lowered brim of his hat couldn't see his face, but one could see from his posture that he was very young.

He just showed his face, and then left quickly. The strong man dragging the corpse threw the corpse away, chased in that direction, but found that this young man who looked thin moved very fast, even wearing an obstructive windbreaker, running in the alley like the wind. The chaser was almost thrown off several times.

Finally, he stopped in a pitch-black alley. He took off his hat, and when he turned around, he revealed a young but sharp-browed face and a pair of gray eyes almost completely hidden in the shadows of his brow bones.

"Hello, Punisher."