"Boss, there's something you need to know."
Inside the car, on the road back, Wesley hesitated for a moment before finally speaking.
"Nobu wants a private meeting with you. And he's insisting on it very strongly."
"What does he want now?" Kingpin asked, his voice instantly turning cold.
"He wants to renegotiate the terms of your cooperation."
Wesley knew that answer would infuriate him, but he reported it anyway.
And just as expected, the moment Kingpin heard it, his expression darkened on the spot. The air inside the car turned heavy and oppressive.
"Nobu is becoming more and more of a problem."
Only after a full two seconds of silence did Kingpin finally speak again.
"But fortunately, I won't have to tolerate that problem much longer."
The truth was, Kingpin had always been wary of Nobu.
He knew very well how dangerous that man was. Someone on the same level as Daredevil.
That was why Kingpin had never dared act recklessly against him.
At one point, he had even considered using Daredevil to get rid of Nobu.
But that plan had died along with Daredevil.
And now Nobu had become the greatest thorn in his side after Daredevil's death.
But now…
None of it would remain a problem for long.
Not just Nobu.
Madame Gao, Leland, the Russian brothers—
none of them would remain a problem.
Soon, Kingpin would no longer need to share control of Hell's Kitchen with anyone.
That place would belong to him alone.
At the thought, a sharper, colder light began to gather in his eyes.
Bang!
Right then, the lead car in the convoy suddenly lost control for no apparent reason.
It swerved violently, fishtailed twice, and then slammed straight into the guardrail.
Screeeech!
Thankfully, the drivers behind it were all experienced professionals. At the critical moment, they yanked their steering wheels and stomped on the brakes with everything they had.
After a burst of frantic, desperate maneuvering, the rest of the convoy managed to stop in time.
A chain collision had barely been avoided.
"What happened?"
Kingpin's face instantly turned ugly.
Wesley didn't waste a second. He shoved the car door open and got out immediately.
At the same time, the other bodyguards in the convoy all poured out of their vehicles as well.
"What happened?"
Wesley strode up to the lead car and questioned the driver.
"Someone scattered nails across the road."
The driver answered with a frown.
Wesley's expression tightened immediately. His entire body tensed as he began scanning the surroundings.
The other bodyguards did the same, instantly going on full alert.
Many of them had already placed their hands on the guns at their waists.
In a remote stretch of road like this, someone had deliberately laid nails across the ground.
Only an idiot wouldn't realize something was wrong.
"Who's there?!"
Suddenly, a figure flashed at the road ahead, instantly drawing everyone's attention.
All eyes snapped toward it, and several men immediately drew their guns and aimed.
But after they saw the figure clearly, many of them relaxed a little.
Because the person standing there was just an old man.
He looked to be in his eighties, thin to the point of frailty, as though a strong gust of wind could knock him over.
And that wasn't all—
the old man was blind.
A blind old man. What threat could he possibly pose?
The only strange thing was the timing of his appearance.
"Go check."
After a brief pause, Wesley casually ordered one of the bodyguards beside him.
The man nodded and walked straight toward the blind old man, blocking his path.
"Hey, old man, what are you doing out here?"
the bodyguard barked.
The old man said nothing.
He simply pulled open the trench coat hanging over his body.
And drew a sword from inside.
The bodyguard's face shifted.
Slash!
Before he could do anything, the old man's hand flicked.
A flash of cold steel cut through the air, and the bodyguard's throat opened instantly.
Blood sprayed everywhere.
"Next time," the blind old man said coldly, shaking the blood from his blade, "show a little respect to your elders."
Stick had arrived.
Wesley and the others were instantly shaken.
None of them had expected that an old man they dismissed so casually would strike with such terrifying ferocity.
They all raised their guns, intending to kill him on the spot.
But right then—
Whoosh!
A woman in a sleek combat outfit, face covered and long hair flowing behind her, suddenly burst out from behind them.
She held twin short blades in her hands and charged straight into the crowd, slashing as she moved.
Elektra had arrived.
Almost everyone present had been focused on Stick.
And Elektra herself was a top-tier fighter.
Her infiltration had gone completely unnoticed.
She hit them like a knife in the dark.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
Screams erupted one after another. Flesh split beneath her blades. Agonized cries and choked groans filled the road.
Even the Hand's trained ninjas were nothing special in front of Elektra.
So what chance did these ordinary gunmen have?
They had guns, yes—but against someone at Elektra's level, those guns were almost useless.
Many of them didn't even get the chance to fire.
One after another, they dropped.
And to make matters worse—
Stick had joined the slaughter.
Wesley sucked in a sharp breath.
The combat strength of these two was absolutely on the level of Daredevil. Even if they weren't as dangerous as Wade, they couldn't be far off.
There was no way their side could stop them.
"Hold them off!"
Wesley barked at his men, then immediately turned and sprinted back toward Kingpin's car, intending to drive them out of there as fast as possible.
But only then did he realize—
every single vehicle had nails scattered around its tires.
That woman had done it!
At that point, even Kingpin could no longer remain seated. He climbed out of the car himself and immediately understood how disastrous the situation had become.
"You, you—come with me! Everyone else, hold them back!"
Wesley pointed at two random men, then hurriedly moved to escort Kingpin away.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire rang out behind them.
But Stick and Elektra were simply too strong.
The gunshots behind them grew fewer and fewer.
Then weaker.
Then they stopped completely.
They had only run a few hundred meters before all the men left behind had been slaughtered.
Looking back at the two figures closing in on them with terrifying speed, both Kingpin and Wesley's expressions turned grim.
They weren't getting away.
There was only one option left.
Fight.