Sentinel of American Comics

Hell's Kitchen is located in the most prosperous area of ​​Manhattan in New York. This chaotic place known as the "hotbed of evil" is like a shadow in the sun. The common laws of civilized society do not work here as imagined. Those wandering on the streets Gangsters and gangsters who prefer to solve problems with fists and force.

As night falls quietly, this area where gangs are spread takes on a different kind of vitality every night. Those scantily clad street girls, gang members selling drug pills everywhere, and fierce tattooed men, they look like... They are burrowing animals that crawl out of the ground and live in simple and dilapidated slums.

Of course, this is just the living conditions of those at the bottom. They are humble and inconspicuous in Hell's Kitchen. They are like tireless worker ants, working hard for the gang leaders who control the territory of the neighborhood and earning a meager salary. In this chaotic and sinful place, life is difficult and numb.

Hellfire Club.

Wesley sat in the box on the second floor with a gentle smile on his gentle face. Since Kingpin's death, he had accepted all the underworld emperor's inheritance, and under Sean's instructions, he had transferred most of his illegal business to and the territory were all given to the Hand and the Irish, and he used the large sums of funds raised to complete the laundering and transfer of the property under his name.

James Wesley, this personal assistant who originally hid behind the scenes and worked hard to manage the company's business for Kingpin, suddenly became a famous real estate upstart in New York.

There is no need to grovel or smile every day. Wesley, who has huge wealth and amazing industry, now only needs to remain loyal to the young boss.

"Mr. James, those drug traffickers in Mexico don't agree with the distribution share you proposed. After King's absence, the Covin brothers became more and more arrogant. They even said that sooner or later it would be their turn to make the decision in Hell's Kitchen."

An intelligence broker said cautiously, many people in Hell's Kitchen were talking about the gentle man in front of them, and the thrilling stories of how he killed Kingpin and Bullseye, replaced the once fierce underworld emperor, and successfully ascended the throne were circulated in the bar.

The ups and downs, twists and turns of the plot are so exciting that it almost makes people believe it. When Wesley hears these rumors occasionally, he will feel dumbfounded. The truth is that he was favored by the young boss without doing anything at all. this location.

"Brothers Covin, they are not satisfied with the allocation share I proposed... Well, tell Vladimir and Anatoly, don't the Russians really want to gain a foothold in Hell's Kitchen? Get rid of the Covin brothers and the port's transportation I’ll leave the trade to them.”

Wesley opened a bottle of red wine and poured a glass for the intelligence broker. He adjusted his glasses and smiled gently: "There is a lot of business in Hell's Kitchen, including the Hand, the Irish, and the Mexicans. These people occupy the best places. However, they are far from contented with their territory, and grab food like mad dogs, not even leaving the leftovers for others.”

"That's not how business works. The cake must be shared by everyone to make it bigger and bigger. Are you right?"

The intelligence broker nodded subconsciously. He was just a small person making a living in Hell's Kitchen, selling some gang information, or selling other intelligence to earn commissions. In the underground world of New York, there are countless people like him, who work exclusively for those who are above and beyond. Big shot running errands.

"I gave up Jin Bin's illegal business and sold the smuggling trade and heroin factory. Therefore, many people feel that I am no longer worthy of fear after losing many thugs. Without those territories, my dignity can be ignored by others. Trample... But they don’t know that I own 80% of the land in Hell’s Kitchen, the ships they smuggled, and the factory warehouses are all mine!”

Wesley sipped the scarlet liquid, breathed a sigh of relief, and continued: "My boss said that there is no future in being a gangster. You have to be the person who divides the cake and sets the rules of the game. I don't want to touch illegal business. Then It’s because I’m afraid of getting my hands dirty. As a law-abiding citizen of New York, how could I possibly engage in drug smuggling!?”

This gentle man was leaning on the sofa. Under his seemingly gentle appearance, there was a heart-stopping sharpness. He stared at the frightened intelligence broker and said in a calm voice: "Send me a message. Starting today, if you want to When doing business in Hell's Kitchen, you must follow my rules, otherwise I guarantee that not a single box of his smuggled goods will be able to be shipped out of the port, and the drugs in the warehouse will be piled up until they become moldy and cannot be sold!"

"...You will become a public enemy, Mr. James." The intelligence broker's voice trembled. The gentle man opposite him was too crazy. "All the gangs in Hell's Kitchen will be your enemies!"

"No, after tonight, there will only be one voice in Hell's Kitchen." A smile appeared on Wesley's face, and the young boss had cleared all obstacles for him.

The intelligence broker left with mixed emotions. He could almost imagine how much turmoil Hell's Kitchen would usher in after he spread the news.

This gentle man who usurped all of Kingpin's property undoubtedly wanted to steal money from all the gangsters. How could those extremely vicious thugs tolerate someone putting their hands into their pockets? Even Kingpin had never done anything like this. things.

Wesley quietly drank the red wine in his glass. He remembered the promise made to him by his young boss, the new ruler of Hell's Kitchen, the new emperor of the New York underworld...

Even though he was in the city, he couldn't help but feel excited. Wesley took out the phone and dialed the boss's number: "Everything is ready. Daredevil's group has been dispatched. They plan to rescue Danny - After Rand, blow up the whole building."

"Wow... What an exciting idea. Those people in Murakami probably know it too. The two gangs will collide soon, and the fun is about to begin."

There was a slight sound of rapid breathing on the other end of the phone, and a woman's moans seemed to be vaguely heard. This made Wesley feel a little embarrassed. His boss was really energetic.

"Well……"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm just exercising...Well, take this opportunity to clean up those gangsters in one fell swoop, and get rid of all the disobedient ones. All the power in Erica's hands will be given to you to command. Tonight, Hell’s Kitchen is your home turf!”

"If you don't bother me, boss, please continue to exercise." Silently cleaning up the gratitude that surged from his heart, Wesley hung up the phone.

…………

The other side of Hell's Kitchen.

In the lounge of Midtown Financial Company, Sean was shirtless and standing in front of the bright floor-to-ceiling windows. After tonight, the building under his feet will no longer exist, and the forces controlled by other fingers of the Hand will also follow. It crumbles and disintegrates together.

"Five fingers are nothing compared to a fist." Sean said softly.

He turned around and looked at Erica, who was sitting on the bed with her beautiful body half covered by the quilt, and said with certainty: "There will only be one leader of the Hand in the future, and you, Erica Nakis, exist as Black Sky."

Erica, who had messy black hair and crimson cheeks, chuckled. She lost her usual indifference and walked slowly to the man's side. There was a hint of coquettishness in her cold voice: "Everything belongs to you anyway."

Sean glanced at the clock on the wall and said calmly: "Cut off your past, Erica. I should also go see Danny Rand. Open that door and see what the legend says can make people live forever." What does it look like to be immortal and to be resurrected from the dead?”

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