Hell's Kitchen.
As Kingpin's stronghold, it was arguably the most chaotic and corrupt place in all of New York.
Ordinary residents had to live with constant caution, never knowing when a stray bullet from a gang shootout might end their lives.
Law and order?
Sorry—only Kingpin's underground laws applied here.
Vroom! Screech!
The moment the car pulled into Hell's Kitchen and stopped, it was immediately surrounded by several gang members.
Natasha and Lynn stepped out. The leading thug whistled and swaggered over with his men.
"Yo, pretty lady, you're gorgeous. How about spending some time with us?"
Watching the dagger twirling in the thug's hand, Natasha—wearing an electronic mask—said to Lynn, "I knew Hell's Kitchen was rough, but I didn't expect it to be this bad. Don't you people do anything about it?"
Lynn, lazily smoking a cigarette, replied, "That's a headache for the higher-ups. We're only responsible for Manhattan."
Every NYPD precinct had its own jurisdiction. It wasn't like Lynn, just because he wore a badge, was responsible for the entire city's safety.
Besides, the New York police never really protected civilians anyway.
Hearing Lynn say that, Natasha glanced at the thug, then deliberately struck a seductive pose. "Oh~ Wanna play with me?"
"Then you'll have to ask my partner if he agrees."
Walking up to Lynn, Natasha slipped her arm through his, a teasing smile curving her lips.
"As long as you can get my partner's approval, it wouldn't be so bad to have a little fun with you."
Natasha was already stunning—her wine-red hair and confident charm made her stand out wherever she went. Even with the electronic mask altering her appearance, her allure was undeniable.
The thug leader's eyes gleamed at her words. He raised his dagger toward Lynn and sneered, "Kid, if you know what's good for you, walk away now, or I'll carve a few holes in you!"
Lynn shook his head and glanced at Natasha. "You're asking for his death."
"What do you mean?"
Natasha frowned, confused by his words.
A split second later, a gunshot cracked through the air—bang!—and the thug leader's head exploded, a bullet punching straight through his skull.
The sudden gunshot made Natasha instinctively tense, ready to defend and counterattack. Her hand shot to her waist, drawing her pistol in an instant.
Then she saw a bald, dark skinned man about 1.8 meters tall stride out from the shadows. He was broad-shouldered, fierce-looking, and had a lit cigar clamped between his teeth.
"See? I told you—just one sentence from you, and that guy was doomed. That's how survival works in Hell's Kitchen."
"Damn it! On my turf, you dare pull knives on my customers? Are you all looking to die?"
The moment the gang members saw Johnny emerge with a gun in hand, fear flashed across their faces—they scattered without a word.
Once they were gone, Johnny holstered his pistol and glared at Lynn. "Damn it, I knew you'd bring trouble every time you showed up."
"Hey, Johnny—What's good, homie? Come dab me up."
Hearing Lynn's smug tone, Johnny bit down on his cigar and growled, "Fuck off! I'm not your homie! And stop using that creepy Jack Torrance voice from The Shining when you say my name!"
At that, his gaze shifted to Natasha, who had already lowered her weapon and resumed her calm, pleasant smile.
"Why'd you bring someone from S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he asked.
"Huh? How did you know I was from S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
Hearing her identity so casually exposed, Natasha couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity about the man standing before her.
She knew she wasn't using her real face—or the face of any female S.H.I.E.L.D. agent for that matter.
Yet this guy could still identify her?
"What's so hard about that? I can tell if someone's from S.H.I.E.L.D., the NYPD, or the FBI with one look."
Saying that, Johnny added, "Come on, I've already got everything you need ready."
"You wait for me in the car first," Lynn said to Natasha before walking off with Johnny toward the black market.
Seeing that Lynn didn't plan to take her along, Natasha simply shrugged and returned to the car.
After thinking for a moment, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
Once the call connected, she spoke briskly. "Corinna, help me find information on a man named Johnny. I don't know his last name, but he operates here in Hell's Kitchen."
"As for his appearance, I'll send it to you."
Glancing up at the nearby street sign, Natasha relayed her exact location to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
After hanging up, she scanned her pupil with her phone. The image of Johnny—captured moments ago through the special invisible contact lenses she wore—was transmitted directly to her device.
Before long, Corinna's response came through on the other end of the line.
"No such person found."
Seeing that there was no record for Johnny—even in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s global database—Natasha glanced toward Lynn's direction with interest.
So Lynn really did have a lot of secrets. His contacts weren't exactly ordinary people.
Inside the warehouse.
After checking that everything he needed was fresh, Lynn handed Johnny the pre-prepared cash.
Johnny weighed the bills in his hand, nodded, and said, "It's always a pleasure doing business with you."
"By the way, I've got two special items you might be interested in."
He signaled to an associate, who brought over two boxes. When they were opened, Lynn peered inside and picked up a tooth to examine it. "Vampire and werewolf teeth? These are good stuff."
Thinking about his Secret Potion Creation—at LV4 he could brew that powerful potion—Lynn asked bluntly, "How much?"
"Seventy thousand dollars per tooth."
"The fuck did you just say? Why don't you just rob me instead of all this bitch?"
Hearing that two teeth would cost a staggering one hundred and forty thousand dollars, Lynn frowned. "The vampire tooth, sure—but why the hell is the werewolf tooth so expensive too?"
"Looking at your white, pearly teeth, I'm starting to think you pulled it out of your own mouth, you greedy werewolf!"
Johnny didn't take offense at Lynn's cursing. "Heh~ If you don't want them, I'll just keep them. Believe me, the rich folks out there would kill for these exotic trophies."
"Damn it, fine—you win! And here I thought we were homies."
Lynn shot Johnny a glare, then turned and walked out.
"Nope, we ain't tight like that. Oi, where are you going now?" Johnny called after him.
"To get the money, you damn crook!"
Once outside the warehouse, Lynn's eyes gleamed.
Alright, he'd just been putting on an act. Those two teeth were easily worth far more than one hundred and forty thousand.
Once his Secret Potion Creation reached LV4, he'd be able to brew a potion capable of healing any injury within five minutes. A single small vial could sell for a million—and there would be no shortage of buyers on the black market.
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