Delivered to the Door

"I think this is a misunderstanding, and Mr. Frank, I'm really not the owner of this club..."

Wesley held his hands up, trying to appear as harmless and obedient as possible, leaning back against the leather sofa in the private room. A 9mm Browning Automatic Pistol was pressed against his forehead. If the hand holding the gun applied even a little more pressure to the trigger, this newly promoted personal assistant's head would explode like a watermelon.

Just half an hour ago, this burly, powerfully built man had stormed into the Hellfire Club. The gangsters and bodyguards were utterly defenseless against this terrifying killer known as 'The Punisher'.

When Wesley came out to assess the situation, the ground was already littered with bodies, everyone groaning in pain. They had likely had their limbs broken or suffered numerous fractured ribs. Fortunately, the other party had shown some restraint and hadn't gone on a killing spree, otherwise, this club would probably be filled with severed human limbs.

Based on The Punisher's past modus operandi, most of the gangsters who dared to resist had their heads blown off with a single shot, or their throats slit with a combat knife. His methods of killing had always been clean and efficient.

"So you can't provide me with any useful intel on The Hand?"

The Punisher, dressed in his iconic attire, spoke coldly. The criminals of Hell's Kitchen feared nothing more than seeing a black T-shirt with a skull printed on the chest at night, because it meant they already had one foot in hell.

"The Hand had a few simple, covert collaborations with Kingpin before, mostly acquiring real estate or old buildings. Their purpose remains unknown. Oh, right, they've been trying to create a weapon called 'Black Sky' and have been constantly selecting children from various places to serve as vessels... That's all I know."

As a smart man, Wesley cooperated and revealed all the information he had. The Punisher's fearsome reputation in Hell's Kitchen was even more terrifying than the legend of the Red Devil. At least the latter would only beat you half to death and then send you to the police station, while the former sent you directly to meet God.

"Who is your boss?"

The Punisher lowered his gun. He had investigated this man named James Wesley. He had previously served as Kingpin's personal assistant. Later, Kingpin was attacked and killed, and Wesley inherited the entire Black Emperor's estate. This gave Frank a sense of something unusual, as if it were all part of a pre-arranged plan.

Frank was very interested in the mysterious boss behind Wesley, thinking that he might be the one who truly killed Kingpin.

"Honestly, I really don't know who he is, what his name is... I know nothing about the boss, he only left me a phone number."

Wesley cautiously took out his phone and, at The Punisher's signal, dialed his boss's number.

Sean was personally teaching the chimpanzee named Caesar in the laboratory. Caesar, injected with ALZ-112, clearly displayed learning abilities and intelligence far beyond his peers. He could quickly master learning words and pictures, and with continuous training and teaching, he even gradually learned to use simple gestures to communicate with people, which was beyond the scope of animals.

In Dr. Connors' words, Caesar was becoming more and more like a human, and it wouldn't be surprising if he eventually spoke.

"I feel like you're doing something very dangerous." When Sean came out of the room, Connors' eyes held a hint of worry, possessing the keen intuition of an excellent scientist.

"What's wrong, Doctor, are you afraid of Caesar?" Sean smiled faintly. Through a series of maneuvers, he had completely tied Dr. Connors to his chariot.

"Yes." Connors nodded. He looked at the chimpanzee, whose behavior and actions were no different from a human, through the thick glass window and said worriedly, "You're creating a new species, Sean."

"Caesar's learning ability is astonishing. He's constantly evolving, Sean! The learning period for various things is constantly shortening. What does this mean? It means Caesar's development hasn't reached its limit yet, and he still has room to grow. What if, one day, he becomes like a human?"

As a scientist, Connors felt the terrifying potential displayed by Caesar. ALZ-112 was originally a new drug to treat cognitive decline, but if its effects went beyond that, then when applied to primates, it would be equivalent to creating an entirely new species!

Sean couldn't help but chuckle after hearing this. The concerns Dr. Connors had were precisely the plot that occurred in the world of 'Rise of the Planet of the Apes'. Due to ALZ-112 being ineffective on humans, scientists had redeveloped the even more potent ALZ-113—a drug that not only stimulated the intelligence of apes but was also a fatal virus to humans.

Because of this, humanity in that world was almost extinct, and the apes had the opportunity to develop, forming a new species and civilization.

"Doctor, everything you've envisioned won't happen. Developing a new species isn't that simple. How much time did it take for humans to evolve from primitive slash-and-burn agriculture in the Stone Age to modern industrial civilization? There will only be one Caesar in the world!"

Sean dispelled Connors' worries. The reason he trained and taught Caesar was simply to cultivate him as an interesting pet.

In the future, Sean would conduct more dangerous experiments, such as research on mutant genes, or creating super-soldiers, and even the Hulk replication project. These were already rough concepts formed in his mind. No matter how much Caesar evolved, would he be more terrifying than those alien beings or extraterrestrials?

"Don't let caution limit your imagination, Dr. Connors." Sean patted Connors' shoulder and smiled kindly.

Buzz buzz buzz—

Feeling the vibration in his pocket, Sean took out his phone. Seeing the caller ID, he couldn't help but frown. Wesley wouldn't contact him easily. Had something major happened in Hell's Kitchen?

Recalling his yet-to-be-implemented score-boosting plan, Sean felt a bit puzzled. He answered the call, and Wesley's voice came from the other end: "Boss, there's something that might require your personal attention."

"Is someone holding a gun to your head, Wesley? You sound very nervous."

Sean frowned. He vaguely sensed that something was wrong. Wesley had always been steady in his actions and wouldn't say such ambiguous things. It seemed he was under some kind of threat.

"If you still want this guy to live, get to the Hellfire Club within half an hour." A hoarse, deep voice came from the other end of the phone. After saying this, the call was abruptly cut off.

Sean stroked his chin. When did he provoke such an opponent? He had always adhered to a low-profile approach to life, yet someone had come looking for him. This was interesting.

He mentally listed the individuals in Hell's Kitchen capable of threatening Wesley. Daredevil was rumored to have disappeared for a while, with no news of him. Jessica Jones was still working as a private detective. Luke Cage was mingling in Harlem. As for Iron Fist, he hadn't officially appeared yet. The ninjas from The Hand likely wouldn't make a move on Wesley, as they maintained a good cooperative relationship.

Counting them all, only The Punisher, who dealt with criminals through brutal means, remained. And judging by the way the phone call was hung up just now, it was indeed very much like him.

"Free points delivered to my doorstep, why not take them?"

A surge of excitement welled up in Sean's heart, as if the combat instincts hidden within his body were gradually awakening.

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