Hell's Kitchen

After leaving Dr. Connors's laboratory, it was already completely dark outside. After saying goodbye to Gwen, Sean set off for home.

Thinking of the girl's reluctant look before she left, he could not help feeling something subtle stir within him. Did this count as stealing Spider-Man's girl?

Casting aside the jumble of thoughts in his head, Sean began considering how to find Dr. Connors a massive investment. Norman Osborn was definitely not an option. Mr. Green Goblin was already overwhelmed by his company's plummeting stock price, and given Osborn Industries' state of operations, it truly could not squeeze out any more funds.

Should he go to that playboy Tony Stark?

The thought vanished as soon as it appeared, and Sean shook his head in rejection. Stark Industries was a giant in the arms industry, backed by the Department of Defense. Dr. Connors's research results would eventually be applied in biomedical fields, so the future Iron Man would never be interested. Besides, Tony Stark was an insufferable, sharp-tongued, arrogant narcissist. Given Sean's status, trying to get investment from him was nothing but a fantasy. He might even be publicly humiliated.

What about Hammer Industries, another national arms contractor? That would not work either. Justin Hammer was a greedy, brainless businessman. With such a vast disparity in status between them, Sean would surely be swallowed whole without even scraps left behind.

After filtering through every suitable candidate in his mind, Sean finally set his sights on New York's famous real-estate tycoon, Mr. Wilson Fisk—the Black Emperor known in the underworld as "Kingpin." He possessed more than enough power, secretly controlled eighty percent of New York's illegal businesses, and ruled over a massive criminal syndicate. Even the justice system and the FBI could do nothing to him.

Compared to the other major corporations, this seemingly most troublesome Mr. Kingpin was actually the easiest target. The people at S.H.I.E.L.D. only cared about extraordinarily powerful Superheroes and would have no interest in a criminal mastermind controlling New York's underworld.

Getting rid of a heinous Black Emperor should count as delivering justice on behalf of New York's citizens, right?

Sean returned to the apartment and happened to run into Mindy coming home from school at the entrance. The little girl wore a light-colored coat and sky-blue jeans, with a backpack slung over her shoulders. She looked no different from any ordinary girl.

"You were definitely thinking up some bad plan just now!" Mindy declared with certainty.

"Why do you say that?" Sean was slightly startled. Could this little brat read minds? Had she actually seen through what I was thinking?

"Whenever you think of doing something bad, you get that same sly smile you had just now." Mindy tossed her backpack onto the sofa and hurriedly grabbed an ice cream from the refrigerator to reward herself.

Sean touched his face, wondering whether his villainous traits were really that obvious. Even a little girl could see through him?

"I was thinking about how to do a good deed, like Spider-Man. Be a Superhero for once," Sean argued. He was doing it to restore peace to Hell's Kitchen—and incidentally raise a sum of money for Dr. Connors.

"A Superhero? Great, great!" Mindy suddenly shouted excitedly. "I've even picked a name for myself: 'Hit-Girl'! Doesn't it sound impressive?"

The violent instincts buried in the little girl's bones were awakened once more. She dug a black case out from beneath her bed, packed full of weapons of every kind—pistols, compact submachine guns, tactical knives, fragmentation grenades, and more. These powerful pieces of equipment normally issued only to special forces were enough for Mindy to storm the New York Police Department and fight her way in and out.

"Uh, you look more like a terrorist." Sean stared speechlessly at the little girl as she quickly changed clothes, put on a purple wig, and slipped into a purple bodysuit.

He had nearly forgotten that this seemingly innocent, sweet little girl was a terrifying figure who had once wiped out the gangs under Frank D'Amico.

When it came to experience and skill in killing, Sean could only admit defeat. During this period, he had also undergone a series of training assignments arranged by Mindy, learning hand-to-hand combat, disguise and makeup, and hacking. His professional level was almost on par with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Black-Suited Agents.

"How could there possibly be such a cute terrorist?" The little girl pouted and acted adorable.

Sean was instantly left speechless. Ever since she had started school and begun living the life of a normal girl, Mindy had become harder and harder to fool. Things that could once be settled with a single pizza now required, at minimum, a strawberry sundae and a lavish Chinese meal.

"Girls should stay away from weapons. Wouldn't it be better to learn dancing, painting, piano, or something like that?"

Realizing he could not defeat the little girl with words, Sean had no choice but to resort to force. He picked her up, removed her wig, and confiscated the black case full of weapons and equipment. He happened to need those things himself.

Mindy, her lips pursed, decided she would ignore Sean for an entire week. That guy was not gentle at all. But when dinner came and she saw a table full of lavish, tempting Chinese dishes, the little girl shamelessly cast everything aside. Ever since tasting the legendary cuisine of the East, she had completely forgotten her former favorites, pizza and Mexican barbecue. Compared with the rich variety of Chinese food, those dishes were child's play!

Sean looked on approvingly as the little girl devoured her meal, secretly thinking, Being able to cook well really was an essential skill for every male protagonist.

As the night deepened, Sean made Mindy wash her face and brush her teeth before sending her to bed. Then he took out a bulletproof vest, a pistol, and a tactical knife from the black case, armed himself from head to toe, pulled on a dark hooded sweatshirt, and quietly climbed out through the window.

The city lights had just come on. Looking down over New York at night, this glittering, prosperous metropolis resembled a bustling city that never slept. Dazzling neon lights and billboards, together with endless streams of traffic, merged into an ocean of radiance that was impossible not to lose oneself in.

Of course, that was only New York's charming side. The wealthy people of the Upper East Side spent every night reveling in extravagance, while those living in the slums could only stay in dilapidated apartment buildings that had fallen into disrepair. They endured harassment from Black thugs, drug dealers, and prostitutes, while occasionally worrying whether they would be robbed on the street that day.

If Manhattan's Upper East Side was a paradise for the rich, then New York's Hell's Kitchen—a district on the western shore of Manhattan Island, commonly known as Midtown West—was hell in every sense of the word. It had once been a famous slum and a working-class enclave for Irish immigrants, notorious for its chaotic, backward living conditions, severe ethnic conflicts, and high crime rate.

Most of New York's gangs had some illegal business here, such as smuggling weapons, dealing drugs, and human trafficking... Acts absolutely forbidden in civilized society were nothing remarkable in Hell's Kitchen. This chaotic region steeped in crime was woven into a vast and complex network by impoverished residents, hippies, petty thugs, gang members, prostitutes, and others. Even when the police tried to maintain order, they achieved little.

With his hood up and his head lowered, Sean walked through the streets of Hell's Kitchen. As the night grew darker, this district infamous for crime and darkness became increasingly lively. Scantily clad streetwalkers, petty thugs eyeing the wallets of passersby, and swaggering gang members with vicious expressions made him feel as though he had stepped into a bizarre world, brushing against New York's darkest corners.