Recruit the Punisher

The gangsters' profit-sharing meeting ended quickly.

This wasn't a business competition.

Put simply, whoever had the bigger territory and more men made more money.

Meetings like this were merely for the many gang bosses to exchange information, so their underlings wouldn't start fighting.

After everyone had left, 'Kingpin' walked into an office.

Before the office's floor-to-ceiling windows, a man who looked immensely obese stood leaning on a cane, gazing outside.

"Boss, the meeting is over."

The man turned around.

What should have been a face covered in fat showed nothing but muscle.

There was no doubt about it—this was a man who had trained his muscles all the way up to his face.

"How was it? Did the allocation work in our favor?"

'Kingpin' nodded with a smile.

"Not bad. It's under our control.

But the Russian Brothers have quite an appetite."

The obese man gave a cold snort.

"Let them have a little more.

What we need now isn't expansion, but to consolidate our current territory.

Still, one day, I'll make those bastards understand that Hell's Kitchen belongs to Kingpin!"

The obese man—no, the real Kingpin—finished speaking.

A hint of fanaticism appeared in the fake Kingpin's eyes. Then, as if recalling something, he said, "Right, Boss. That kid named Noah Allen probably won't live past today.

Finn Cooley should be making his move against him."

Kingpin's expression did not change. He nodded.

"If that's the case, it saves us the trouble of doing it ourselves.

Osley, I need you to find someone for me."

As he spoke, Kingpin flicked out a card.

Leland Osley caught it and took a look.

"Understood."

After investigating, Noah found, unsurprisingly, that Beck Wacker's financial company was not a legitimate business at all.

Though nothing seemed wrong with its operations, he noticed that the company had clear mob ties.

Moreover, a warehouse in the suburbs looked highly suspicious.

Noah paused when he saw the results of the investigation.

If he had truly been some clueless rookie, he might really have fallen for this trick.

But ever since transmigrating, he had been cautious at every turn.

Such an obvious flaw immediately made him realize there was something wrong.

What should he do next?

Noah thought for a moment.

Go take a look tonight?

With the abilities granted by his system, he probably wouldn't get trapped.

But after only a moment, he abandoned the idea.

What a joke. He was a law-abiding businessman.

Now that he had discovered their problem, why would he not call the police and go after them himself?

Only someone with a hole in their head would do that!

This tactic worked on gangsters. It worked on heroes.

But it had absolutely no effect on a business elite like him.

So he immediately called George Stacy's personal number and told him what he had uncovered.

At the same time, he specifically warned him that there might be moles in the police department.

In Hell's Kitchen's police department, George Stacy was the only person he could trust.

For one thing, he had just been transferred to Hell's Kitchen, so he probably hadn't had much contact with the gangs here.

For another, based on what he knew from the plot in his previous life, it wasn't hard to see that George Stacy had principles of his own.

At the very least, he was a good cop.

As for what the man chose to do, that was none of his concern.

He hadn't been idle, either.

It would be best if the police could handle it, but if they couldn't, he would have to take matters into his own hands.

Though he was a legitimate businessman, in the early stages of development, there was nothing he lacked more than people to get things done.

So he could only handle everything personally.

Still, that gave him the idea of recruiting talent.

Good researchers were hard to come by, but for security, wasn't there an obvious candidate?

He thought of Frank, who had not yet become the Punisher.

The last time Frank had visited his home, he had mentioned finding a girlfriend and wanting to get married.

But as a retired soldier, Frank had no better career prospects beyond security work.

He seemed rather frustrated with his lot in life.

By that logic, the position of head of security at his company should be quite appealing.

After thinking it over, Noah called his parents, who were far away in Hawaii, and got Frank's contact information.

When he called Frank, Frank sounded quite surprised.

After Noah explained his purpose, Frank's first reaction wasn't refusal, but confusion.

"How did you end up starting a company?

As far as I know, your family wasn't that well-off."

It was too strange.

The Allen family were his friends. Although he hadn't met Noah many times, he believed he knew him reasonably well and trusted him to some extent.

But the sense of danger honed through years of training still made him ask the question.

Noah had long been prepared for this. He said, "My research produced some results and made me some money, so I made a few investments.

The shareholders of that company tried to steal my results, but unfortunately for them, they underestimated me."

Noah did not hide anything. He simply told him the truth selectively.

These matters weren't difficult to investigate.

Given Frank's personality, there was no way he wouldn't look into them.

And the reason Noah was willing to tell him was that, as far as he knew, Frank wasn't an excessively kind person.

An elite who had fought in countless battles—kind?

Perhaps. But he would never believe that killing was absolutely wrong.

Frank frowned.

"Is it serious?"

"Not too bad," Noah said confidently.

"It's under control. A group of people just refuses to give up, so they've made a few moves. I'm dealing with them now."

"No wonder..."

Frank muttered.

The news that Noah's house had been bombed naturally hadn't escaped his notice.

But after learning that Noah's parents were traveling and that Noah himself was fine, he hadn't intervened.

After giving it some thought, Frank nodded.

"Alright. I'll take the job."

Just as Noah had known.

He wanted to get married.

But aside from killing, he didn't know how to do anything else.

Rather than find some other job, he might as well work in security. And as the head of the department, he could be considered modestly accomplished.

He didn't want his wife to worry.

This job was a perfect outcome as well.

But...

"Do Billd and the others know that your house was bombed?"

Hearing Frank's question, Noah's expression darkened as he said gloomily, "Actually, that's exactly what I've been worrying about.

I can't even imagine how they'll feel when they come back and find that the house their family has lived in for generations has been blown up."

With Frank taking over security, Noah immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

Really, with the Punisher as the head of security, how many people in this world could still break in?

Perhaps his combat strength was not among the very top in this outrageous world.

But the security department's primary responsibilities were dealing with infiltration and eavesdropping, with repelling external enemies coming last.

When it came to the first two, probably no one was more professional than the Punisher.

Besides, his fighting ability was hardly weak.

He was a formidable man capable of battling superhumans with nothing more than a mortal body.

As long as he was not facing an enemy bullets could not penetrate, his deterrence was unmatched.

In Noah's mind, the company's security level had instantly increased countless times over.

Night gradually fell.

Noah changed into an inconspicuous outfit, put on a mask, and headed alone toward the warehouse he had investigated earlier.

When he arrived, several men stood scattered around the warehouse.

Though they were some distance away, he could still tell.

Those men probably all had weapons tucked at their waists.

He just did not know how George Stacy's preparations were coming along.

In the distance, seven or eight police cars drove toward the warehouse.

George Stacy sat inside one of the police cars, a trace of shock in his eyes.

With Noah's warning, he had also become concerned that there might be problems within the police department.

So he had arranged for several trusted subordinates he had brought along to investigate.

As it turned out, they really had uncovered something.

That warehouse was an important stronghold of the Irish Mob.