Kingpin Is a Good Man

Vitulier, Brooklyn.

It was an up-and-coming restaurant featured in food magazines, renowned for its unique layout, fresh ingredients, and secret special sauces.

The restaurant had no conventional front entrance; it was ingeniously concealed within the walls.

After entering, guests had to follow a staff member down a dim staircase before reaching the main hall.

The entirely white main hall looked like a museum.

That was right, it was an underground restaurant.

Clearly, its business philosophy wasn't low prices and high volume, nor did it rely on word of mouth to attract customers. Its positioning meant its dishes would never be affordably priced.

Today, Vitulier, which averaged fewer than ten customers a day, had been booked out. The restaurant owner felt conflicted—half pleased, half terrified.

Because the man who had booked the entire place was Mr. Fisk, also known as Kingpin.

Fisk didn't actually like that nickname, though the other gangs considered it an honorific.

Kingpin.

It meant the king of the underworld.

To some extent, that nickname bestowed by the other gangs was more submission and fear than admiration.

But Fisk's dream was to build an unparalleled criminal empire, and there would be no vassals in the empire of his dreams.

Today was an important day, because Fisk was taking a woman on a date.

From the day he threw his father into the river piece by piece, his emotions had died. Fortunately, heaven had given him another chance.

And so, he met this woman.

Even more fortunately, she had accepted his invitation.

At Fisk's polite request, the restaurant had removed every table, leaving only a small table for two in the center of the main hall.

The appointed time arrived. Surrounded by a group of capable men in black suits, Fisk, wearing a custom navy-blue suit, and his equally formally dressed date took their seats on time.

In the kitchen, the restaurant owner watched the guests outside and couldn't help swallowing. He was beginning to regret accepting this customer.

More tragically, he had never had the right to refuse.

He swallowed again. "Stay sharp!" the owner snarled at his staff. "If anyone screws this up today, our death anniversary will be today too. Understand?!"

Appetizers, soup, side dishes... The two chatted happily, and the restaurant owner, personally serving the dishes, secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

When the main course was served, someone entered the sealed-off restaurant.

Wesley was Fisk's most capable subordinate, without question.

As Fisk's subordinate, friend, and even business partner, Wesley had made tremendous contributions to Fisk's dream of building a criminal empire. He was also the person Fisk trusted most. Most gang affairs were usually handled by Wesley.

That was precisely why he could enter the restaurant at a time like this.

Though he had something extremely important to tell Fisk, Wesley understood his longtime friend and boss very well.

If he disturbed the two people eating together at a time like this, even Fisk wouldn't show him mercy.

So he merely closed the door softly, raised an eyebrow, and returned the pair's glance with a polite, faintly teasing smile, like an ordinary man who had caught his friend having dinner with a new girlfriend. Then he held his documents and quietly stood there waiting.

Polite, modest, approachable.

The woman raised her glass and smiled back as well.

"You have an excellent subordinate."

Fisk was in a very good mood.

"He isn't just my subordinate. He's also my best friend."

"It seems you have good taste in friends."

"Clearly, my best judgment isn't in choosing friends."

"Oh!"

The woman made a surprised expression and clinked glasses with Fisk. "To your good judgment!"

"Hahaha, I hope you don't find that presumptuous."

After dinner, once he had taken the woman home, Fisk got into the car where Wesley was sitting. "Thank you, Wesley."

"Wilson." Only Wesley called Fisk that.

"I shouldn't have come to disturb you. My apologies."

Fisk shook his head. "No. I know something must have happened—something important. That's why you came to see me."

He leaned back against the seat and relaxed his entire body. Tonight's dinner had exhausted him more than his daily training sessions fighting ten men at once.

"That's why I'm thanking you, Wesley."

"You're welcome. You two suit each other well."

He closed his eyes for a few seconds to collect himself. When he opened them again, Fisk had returned to being the emperor of the underworld. "Tell me, Wesley."

His voice was low and overwhelmingly oppressive.

"What happened?"

Leon was very happy. First of all, he had bought a wok.

The facts proved that as long as you were willing to spend money, you could fulfill your wishes. If you couldn't, it only meant you hadn't spent enough.

Under the overwhelming cash offensive, the landlord agreed to let Leon renovate the kitchen and provided considerable help.

The wok and the rest of the matching kitchenware had all been bought by the landlord.

"Money makes the mare go!" Leon couldn't help remarking.

This further strengthened Leon's desire to make money.

What a wonderful person! This was truly help in a time of need!

He had somehow managed to scrape together over two thousand dollars just by playing cards and Texas Hold'em at the factory.

Were gang benefits this good nowadays?

This was practically heaven.

Gangs back home only ever flipped tables and wouldn't even let people eat!

One-star review!

Aside from having far more freedom regarding food in the future, the more important matter was the system.

At first, the system's experience points were different from Leon's character experience. The former required far more experience than the latter, and he could only watch a tiny white progress bar slowly increase.

Like a certain download program stuck at 99%.

Now Leon knew. It was roughly three times the character experience.

That's right.

The system had upgraded when Leon allocated points for the third time.

Once again, thanks to Mr. Kingpin for gathering his subordinates together.

Over the past few days, Leon had done this every night. Through friendly communication—meaning a beating—and sincere requests—also meaning a beating—he learned the address of another boss from the enthusiastic citizen Mr. Newman, then conducted another friendly conversation...

After taking down two drug factories, Leon's character experience directly reached level four, while the system successfully completed its final one percent after his previous character upgrade.

After allocating points several times, Leon's physical abilities had improved tremendously compared to the beginning.

[God of Man System]

Host: Leon Collins

Four Attributes:

Strength: 17

Agility: 20

Constitution: 17

Intelligence: 15

Health: 170

Other than one point of Constitution that Leon had raised through training himself, the rest had all come purely from allocated points.

It was worth mentioning that Leon's Agility had reached the system's marked maximum value for a normal person, rewarding him with a special draw. Leon had drawn this item.

[Rapid Advance]

Effect: Dash forward a certain distance

Level: 1

Note: Turtle Master's signature technique. Passed down through the Brazilian Turtle School for centuries.

After the system upgraded, there actually hadn't been any major changes. More precisely, there had only been one change.

[Prize Pool]

Can draw equipment, skills, pets, special items, consumables, ungraded items...

(70% white, 20% green, 10% blue.)

Each draw costs 200 Purification Points.

He could draw blue items now!!

Leon checked his Purification Points: 2,210.

"Hehehehehe..."