You've already named it "Iron Head Skill," so how can I hit your head? (Seeking collection)

As one of the biggest gangs in Hell's Kitchen, we've actually been robbed!?

Are you f***ing kidding me!?

Hammerhead's already fierce face instantly turned the color of a pig's liver, as if he had been slapped hard across the cheek.

He had just finished spouting threats in front of Kingpin's representative, Wesley, declaring that no one dared to provoke the Maggia, and now someone had the audacity to cause trouble on his turf!

He could even imagine the corners of Wesley's mouth struggling to suppress a smirk.

Fury surged straight to his head. Hammerhead shoved aside two posing dealers, stood up abruptly, and glared viciously at the subordinate who had brought the news.

"Was it the Demon Gang!?"

"No, it wasn't the Demon Gang," the subordinate replied hurriedly.

This answer didn't calm Hammerhead down; instead, it was like pouring a bucket of oil onto a fire!

Ferocity surged in his eyes, and his voice was terrifyingly low: "It seems the Maggia hasn't flexed its muscles in too long, if any random small-fry who doesn't know death is coming dares to jump out and step on us!"

"Tell me, how many people did they bring!?"

Facing a boss so enraged he looked ready to eat someone, the subordinate swallowed hard and tremblingly raised a single finger.

"One hundred?"

Hammerhead's brows knitted into a knot; that was no small scale.

"No, it's just one person."

"?"

Hammerhead froze completely, doubting whether something was wrong with his ears.

"Are you sure you aren't joking?"

"It's true, Boss!"

After confirming it repeatedly, Hammerhead's roar echoed through the private room.

"One person dares to come to Maggia territory and run wild? Where are our men? Where the hell did they all go!?"

The subordinate shrank his neck, intimidated by the shout: "That person's marksmanship is incredibly accurate. He's already taken out over thirty of our men; we can't stop him at all."

"Trash! A bunch of trash!"

Hammerhead clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked, gritting his teeth: "I want to see which bastard who doesn't know death dares to..."

BOOM--!!

A massive explosion interrupted him!

The wall of the private room was blown wide open, and smoke and dust, carrying debris, instantly filled the entire space!

A figure appeared leisurely, the Golden Desert Eagle in his hand gleaming under the lights, almost too bright to look at directly.

Du Mu walked into the room as if taking a stroll, his gaze sweeping casually over the stunned crowd before settling on the big-headed Hammerhead.

"Are you that Iron Head technique?"

Iron Head technique?

Is he talking to me?

Hammerhead didn't understand, glaring fiercely at this uninvited guest: "So you're the thing that doesn't know death causing trouble on my turf!?"

Du Mu spread his hands, his tone indifferent: "Can't help it. You wouldn't give me the money, so I had to take it by force."

Hammerhead's mouth twitched violently.

If you don't give it, he takes it? This style of conduct was even more gangster than their own gang!

"Kill him!"

Hammerhead could no longer hold back. Murderous intent surged in his eyes as he roared the order!

As the words fell, the gangsters around him pulled out their guns and fired!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang--!

A rapid series of gunshots exploded in the room, and volleys of bullets whistled toward Du Mu!

Du Mu rolled to the side to dodge, muttering, "Firing guns at the slightest disagreement—the local gangs really have no manners."

Eye of Death!

Time suddenly slowed down. Without even looking, Du Mu raised his gun and fired.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Five gangsters had their heads blown open instantly, collapsing straight to the ground.

The remaining gangsters were terrified, pulling their triggers even more frantically as bullets rained down on Du Mu like a storm!

However, in front of a cheater like Du Mu, their resistance was futile.

Gunshots rang out in succession, accompanied by short, sharp screams, as one gangster after another fell like harvested Maze.

Ten seconds later, the private room was littered with corpses, leaving only Hammerhead and Wesley alive.

"Pah! Coward!"

Hammerhead cast a look of disdain at Wesley, who was cowering under the sofa, before crawling out from beneath another.

"Who the hell are you, and who sent you!"

Hammerhead stared at Du Mu with vigilance.

He might look like a brute, but he wasn't stupid; it was obvious this person had come specifically for him.

"Since you've figured it out, I won't pretend anymore."

Du Mu's expression turned solemn: "That's right, I'm an NYPD officer, sent by my superiors to arrest you."

In truth, Du Mu had accepted a mission from S.H.I.E.L.D. to investigate Hammerhead, this anomalous gang leader.

Normally, gangs didn't fall under the jurisdiction of S.H.I.E.L.D., but intelligence on Hammerhead indicated he was highly unusual. Witnesses had seen him take a bullet to the head without a scratch, and he could even flip a speeding car with his skull—this was definitely not something a normal person could do.

Nick Fury had therefore sent Du Mu to Hell's Kitchen to investigate.

If the intelligence proved true, he was to apprehend him and hand him over to the research department.

As for whether this was legal...

What did the actions of an NYPD officer have to do with S.H.I.E.L.D.?

"You're an NYPD officer?"

Hammerhead looked at the blinding Golden Desert Eagle in Du Mu's hand, his expression strange.

Since when was the NYPD so well-funded?

Hammerhead's eyes flickered, and he said in a deep voice: "No matter who you are, leave now, and I'll pretend nothing ever happened."

Perhaps wary of Du Mu's identity and strength, Hammerhead chose to back down for the moment.

Du Mu refused decisively: "Impossible, I still have to take you back to finish the job."

"Then there's nothing to talk about. Go to hell!"

Before the words had even faded, Hammerhead lunged like a wild beast, charging violently toward Du Mu!

Bang!

A dull gunshot rang out.

Hammerhead merely tilted his head slightly; a golden bullet was pinned against his forehead, spinning uselessly at high speed without being able to penetrate a single millimeter, before finally falling limply to the ground.

"Hahaha! It's useless!"

Hammerhead flicked the bullet mark on his forehead with his finger and laughed wildly: "I am an immortal existence! Not even bullets can cause me any harm!"

Du Mu was slightly surprised; he hadn't expected this guy to actually be able to withstand a bullet.

Having blocked Du Mu's shot, Hammerhead's expression grew even more arrogant. He slapped his massive skull hard and roared a provocation at Du Mu:

"Come on, you bastard! Keep shooting here! I want to see—ahhh, my leg!!"

A crisp gunshot followed.

Hammerhead suddenly collapsed to the ground, clutching his bleeding leg and howling in agony.

"Wh... why... didn't you shoot at my head?!"

Hammerhead's pain was mixed with incredulous confusion.

In fact, his head had been severely damaged in a brutal gang shootout, and later, a doctor had replaced his skull with a solid piece of alloy, giving him an invulnerable head.

It was precisely because of this that the rumors of his immortality had spread, making him famous in the underworld.

He never expected that a guy like Du Mu, who had no sense of honor, would actually shoot him in the knee!

"Nonsense! You're practically a human battering ram; even a toddler would know your head is hard as iron. Why would I keep shooting there? Am I sick?"

Du Mu looked at him as if he were an idiot. If he hadn't instinctively aimed for the head on the first shot, Hammerhead wouldn't even have had the chance to blather on.

Hammerhead: "..."