I'll Confess Everything!

Sparks flew and lightning flashed.

Well... actually, that didn't happen.

Luca and his group maintained a steady distance, keeping the vehicle just outside their line of sight as they trailed it.

However, what surprised Luca was that the fleeing vehicle wasn't heading toward Hell's Kitchen as he had anticipated, but rather toward a secluded stretch of coastline near the Upper West Side.

Could I have guessed wrong? Is Kingpin not actually backing Dragan?

Or perhaps, tonight's attackers aren't the same group as the others?

Knowing just how "popular" he had become, Luca didn't doubt for a second that multiple factions might be targeting him simultaneously.

However, just as Luca began to reflect on his own preconceived notions, the wiretap, which had previously only transmitted heavy breathing and the sound of the car engine, suddenly picked up a voice.

It sounded as if the man was on a phone call, reporting the night's events to someone.

"Boss... it's me..."

"Don't... don't yell at me, Boss! All my brothers are dead! That bastard Dragan lied to us! That kid has a metal monster at home!"

There was a flurry of frantic slapping against the steering wheel, followed by the sharp screech of tires gripping the asphalt.

"Damn it! Almost hit a patrol car... Boss, you have to believe me! I wasn't high tonight, it was just like in the movies! That monster punched Steve's head into a pulp, and his brains splattered all over me."

On the receiving end of the wiretap, Luca listened to the man spout nonsense. He looked up at the rearview mirror to see Baymax playing with its own fingers, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes.

But at least one thing was certain now.

Tonight's incident is definitely related to Dragan!

What he hadn't expected was that the guy he let escape was actually the leader of tonight's assault team.

Looks like I might actually be able to fish something out of this, Luca thought.

His internal musings, however, were not transmitted to the other end of the wiretap.

The phone call continued.

Whatever was said on the other end, the fleeing man finally spoke again after a series of hurried affirmations.

"Boss, I'm certain no one is following me. I already took the plates off, but..."

"Yes, I know, but Boss... this isn't about the money anymore! That kid didn't die today, and if the boss finds out what we did..."

"Alright, alright, I'll go burn the car right now."

The call ended, but the wiretap continued to pick up the man's muttering and cursing.

It seemed that after speaking with his so-called "Boss," the man felt a bit more at ease, no longer as tense and silent as he had been before.

Not long after, the van pulled up near an abandoned parking lot.

A moment later, flames and thick smoke billowed into the sky, and on Luca's monitor, the tracker's signal began moving in a different direction.

At a warehouse pier on the northwest side of Manhattan.

After narrowly escaping with his life, Tony carefully parked his prized vehicle before climbing out while muttering curses.

Don't let the car's dilapidated exterior fool you; Tony had relied on this heap to vanish and lay low every time things went south, only to return once the heat died down.

In Tony's mind, this seventh-hand clunker, gifted to him by his late brother, was his only lucky charm.

After planting a light kiss on the windshield, Tony scurried sneakily toward the pitch-black warehouse in the distance.

"Knock, knock, knock~"

"It's me!"

A moment later, the warehouse door was pushed open from the inside.

The man who opened it peered around cautiously before yanking Tony inside.

"The Boss is waiting for you in the small room!"

Feeling a bit guilty, Tony instinctively straightened the collar of his tattered jacket before cautiously walking toward the only lit partition inside the warehouse.

"Boss... I'm back."

Tony, now nervous to the point of trembling, spoke softly outside the door.

From inside, a voice sounded, slightly impatient.

"Enter!"

As the iron door creaked open, the bearded brute inside saw his capable subordinate standing sneakily at the threshold.

"What are you waiting for, get in here!"

Yet, the moment the bearded man finished his curse, he noticed Tony's head jerk forward. Before he could process what had happened, Tony collapsed face-first onto the floor without a sound, his fate unknown.

"Damn it!"

Having spent a long time in the underworld, the bearded man's first instinct was to reach for the handgun on the side table.

However, before his hand could even touch the weapon, he heard a faint "pew" of a gunshot. The pistol was struck and sent flying, spinning through the air before clattering onto the floor in the distance.

It hit the concrete with a sharp, metallic ringing.

Immediately after, a robust woman holding a suppressed pistol walked in, her muzzle aimed directly at him.

"Which gang are you from? Let's talk this out, don't be rash!"

Yet, no sooner had he finished speaking than he noticed what was behind the woman.

A handsome youth with his hands in his pockets and his eyes obscured by the reflection on his lenses strolled into the room as if he were out for a casual walk.

Seeing him step over Tony's fallen "corpse" without a second thought, the bearded man felt a chill run through his entire body.

Of course, he had already recognized the youth's identity by that highly recognizable face, which was precisely why he was so terrified.

"It's you! How did you follow me here?! No! That idiot Tony!!"

Just when the bearded man thought that was the end of it, a large hand clad in strange armor suddenly reached out and gripped the doorframe.

The next moment, the metal frame let out a screeching sound of distortion, followed by the entire frame and the surrounding wall panels cracking and crumbling apart.

Only then did a goofy-looking armored freak step into the room with small, cautious strides. The bulky, armored figure even politely reached out to steady the shattered doorframe to keep it from collapsing entirely.

"Your door, I am very sorry. Hello, I am Baymax!"

"Iron-skinned monster!"

At just a single glance, the bearded man finally understood why his capable henchmen had been scared out of their wits earlier.

But...

This is clearly carbon-fiber armor! It's a robot!! What kind of iron-skinned monster is this!!

The man cursed wildly in his heart, but he dared not show any change in expression on his face. Instead, he obediently raised his hands high above his head, his eyes filled with a desperate desire to live.

"What do you want to know? I'll confess everything!!"