Kingpin's Invitation

"Hell's Kitchen's crime rate has fallen to a historic low."

"The NYPD has deployed in full force. Can Hell's Kitchen's problems finally be eradicated?"

Every headline reported on the new changes in Hell's Kitchen.

Harry smiled and looked at a few minor news stories in the corner that no one had paid attention to:

"Red-clad weirdo? A friendly masked man who specialized in helping old ladies catch cats."

"Black-masked man, Hell's Kitchen's mysterious vigilante. Captain Stacy: All vigilantes are criminals by nature!"

Seeing Harry suddenly laugh at the news, George Stacy walked in front of Harry.

"The situation in Hell's Kitchen is encouraging. It has never been like this before, all thanks to you and your father. On behalf of the New York citizens, I thank you both."

"As an American citizen, it's what I should do." As he spoke, Harry took out his phone. "What do you think of these reports? I saw some media outlets say that you once commented on this... black-clad vigilante."

"Punishing others privately without legal trial makes him nothing more than another self-righteous criminal."

Hearing the NYPD captain's words, Matt seemed a little displeased. Harry looked between the two and decided to stir the pot.

"What about you, Matt?"

It worked well. Matt immediately countered with something along the lines of, "You're not from Hell's Kitchen, so you don't understand this place." Captain Stacy refused to be outdone and clung to his central argument—that anyone who ignored the law and abused vigilante justice was a criminal. Harry listened to their debate with great interest.

This trip to Hell's Kitchen had come at George's invitation. The captain apparently wanted to show Harry the results of their work.

After all, Harry had provided several hundred police Exoskeletons at Cost Price, and had even allowed them to buy some on credit.

Now Police officers patrolled the streets everywhere. The gang members had all gone into hiding, and the neighborhood looked much safer.

But most of the officers deployed this time were still local Police from Hell's Kitchen. Harry knew that was a major hidden danger.

Just as Matt was about to turn the argument toward Harry's "self-defense" actions, Harry cut him off in time.

"Captain Stacy, but I have a question. From what I understand, while Hell's Kitchen's crime rate has fallen recently, the number of serious crimes seems to have increased instead?"

Yes. Robberies and fights had become less frequent lately, but murder cases kept cropping up. According to Daredevil Matt's investigation, Kingpin was destroying evidence—by killing people who might know something, but who were not members of his criminal empire.

Faced with the facts, Captain Stacy could only say that they were trying their best.

Harry had no objection to that. If Kingpin was getting desperate, it meant they had hit a sore spot. This time, Kingpin was truly finished.

"Something's wrong..."

Harry noticed Matt suddenly stop and immediately went on high alert—

Boom!

An explosion sounded in the distance. Judging by the noise, it was massive!

"Command Room, Command Room, calling Command Room! Calling..." A hurried voice suddenly came through the radio, and Captain Stacy rushed to respond.

"No, run!" Matt shouted, lunging toward the other two—

Boom!

Another explosion went off, and the building in front of them immediately collapsed!

Bang!

"Oh my God! Captain Stacy! Mr. Osborn!" The officers nearby shouted, but seconds later, the three figures reappeared through the smoke.

"Cough, cough... Harry, Mr. Murdock, are you two all right?"

The three of them struggled to climb to their feet.

At the critical moment, Harry had grabbed both men and thrown them out of the path of the falling rubble.

But to conceal his powerful physique, he had to make himself look injured. Harry did not want to show off too much, but he also did not want to be as ostentatious as Iron Man would be in the future. It was enough for the public to think he was simply a strong man.

"Oh my God, Harry..." George was horrified by Harry's appearance.

Harry's clothes had been badly torn by debris and stones. He was covered in wounds, and one entire arm hung limply at his side, as if it had been broken.

The explosions continued, while the radio on the ground buzzed frantically.

"You, hurry and take Mr. Osborn to the hospital!" George immediately ordered his subordinates to send Harry to the hospital.

But Matt seemed to sense something. Just as he was about to stop them, Harry swayed to his feet and signaled for him to stay quiet.

"I can walk on my own... Then I'll borrow your car."

Several officers nodded at George and got into the car—it seemed their plan had succeeded.

But when Harry got into the car, it was hard to tell if it was just their imagination, but the vehicle suddenly rocked violently, as if a tiger had been placed inside.

Matt silently mourned for them—in his perception, there was definitely something wrong with those Police officers.

But Harry was no pushover either. His body was completely fine, and the so-called broken arm was an act.

In Matt's perception, Harry's beating heart shone as brilliantly as the sun.

He should go do what he needed to do. There was no way Mr. Osborn would be in any trouble.

"So... this isn't the road to the hospital, is it?" Harry twisted his neck. "I'm guessing this is the road to Fisk's Funhouse. Am I right?"

The police officers beside Harry exchanged glances and pulled out a phone.

"Mr. Osborn truly is clever. I would like to invite you over for a chat. I hope you won't refuse." It was indeed Kingpin speaking, but his tone was far colder than during their previous phone call.

"So you think kidnapping me will solve your problem? You should know that everyone who could become a witness and put a knife to your criminal empire is already under police protection, right?"

"Haha, Mr. Osborn, you jest. Look at the people around you—which one of them isn't Police?"

Harry fell silent.

"And in fact, this invitation isn't meant to coerce you. It's about business."

The car soon arrived at its destination: a private art gallery.

The moment he stepped out, Harry saw the over-two-meter-tall man standing at the entrance like a guardian deity. Though Harry liked to call him a big fatty, no ordinary person standing before him would ever think of him as fat. He was a Monster.

Of course, that was only from an ordinary person's perspective. In truth, if Harry had not controlled certain aspects of the Spartan Bio-Modification Surgery, he should have grown beyond two meters tall as well. But that kind of change would have been far too obvious.

Even now, Harry stood close to 1.9 meters tall and outweighed Kingpin, so the man's build did not make him feel suffocated in the slightest.

"Welcome, Mr. Harry Osborn. Let's talk inside."

The fat man made an inviting gesture. He looked exceedingly respectful, yet Harry did not even spare him a glance before walking inside.

It seemed Mr. Kingpin intended to yield. But would Harry let him off?