Chapter 7: Iron Man's Night Visit, the Snakehead Gang
"Davis, go check it out."
Several drug dealers silently put down their bottles. Rough hands reached for weapons as they motioned for the strongest bald thug to go investigate.
"Maybe it's a buyer."
The bald thug muttered indifferently, but still obediently stood up and walked toward the door.
He leaned close.
Peering suspiciously through the peephole, he saw a figure clad in armor—
Standing motionless outside like a metallic statue.
"W-What the hell! It's Iron Man!"
Although Jiang Feng only wore a half-set of armor and it wasn't painted, the wildly popular image of Iron Man was now known to everyone.
Even drug dealers—
Had seen plenty of Iron Man footage on TV.
Now, seeing it in real life—
The bald thug was dumbfounded, frozen in place.
Was it someone in disguise? But why would anyone dress up as Iron Man and show up in a remote area like this?
"Iron Man? What are you talking about?"
The other drug dealers looked at each other, confused, and with furrowed brows moved closer to the door.
But just as they approached—
The bald thug's pupils suddenly contracted.
Whatever drunkenness remained instantly vanished, his nerves tensing to the limit.
Because through the peephole, he could clearly see—
The mysterious figure outside, dressed in silver armor, raising his right hand. Around his wrist, pitch-black gun barrels glared menacingly, sending chills down his spine.
Every instinct screamed—
This wasn't cosplay.
This was a real killing machine.
"Duck—"
Before he could even shout the warning, the soft sound of gunfire rang out.
A burst of needle-like armor-piercing rounds tore through the wooden door, instantly killing the bald thug.
The other drug dealers didn't even have time to react—their faces froze—
They didn't even know what was happening outside before they were all gunned down by Jiang Feng, who used his x-ray vision to fire straight through the door and walls.
These drug dealers were slightly more valuable than the thugs earlier.
After the kills—
Jiang Feng gained 15 EXP for each of his two classes, and 10 Reincarnation Points.
Even a mosquito is still meat—he was satisfied.
As the gangsters fell—
A tiny red dot vanished from the virtual map in his smart glasses.
But just within the Hell's Kitchen area, the map was still littered with densely packed red dots—
Like a rash that wouldn't fade.
Some red zones were massive—
Covering entire blocks where multiple residential buildings were all marked bright red.
Among them stood one especially prominent building—
The Fisk Tower.
This infamous building wasn't even in downtown Manhattan, yet it remained tall and luxurious.
A glaring contrast to the decayed surroundings, it stood out like a star in the filth of Hell's Kitchen.
That tower—
Was the headquarters of Wilson Fisk, aka Kingpin. The public knew it as the base of a philanthropist.
It looked glamorous on the outside—
But was in reality, a nest of corruption.
On the virtual map, the entire tower glowed blood-red—crime infested nearly every floor.
Within just a short time—
Linglong had already hacked all the electronics in the building, secretly collecting evidence of Kingpin's massive criminal empire.
Drug production and trafficking, human smuggling, embezzlement—
Even collusion with corrupt politicians and officials for under-the-table dealings.
If all of this were leaked—
It would cause panic among half of New York's upper class, and could easily send Kingpin to prison, shaking the entire underworld.
But considering how prisons work in the Marvel universe—
They often function more like villain training camps or networking centers to form new gangs.
So Jiang Feng didn't take this information too seriously.
Even if Kingpin went to jail—
He'd just be changing scenery while still living in luxury.
Even in prison, he could live like royalty.
After all, money talks.
And it wouldn't be long before Kingpin would legally walk free—
Back to enjoying his life.
In Jiang Feng's eyes—
The only real way to take down a supervillain was to kill them with his own hands.
Best to destroy even the soul—just in case of resurrection.
After all, people coming back from the dead—
Happens all the time in Marvel and DC universes.
"Hey! Who's there?! What are you doing?"
Suddenly—
A hoarse voice came from within the decrepit apartment building.
Jiang Feng turned his head—
And saw a hunched, elderly woman with white hair, slowly climbing the stairs with a flashlight.
She had likely heard the noise earlier and came to investigate.
When her flashlight reflected off the silver armor—
She was stunned on the spot.
"Oh my God! What the hell is that thing?!"
She froze.
She had expected a thief or perhaps a homeless person, but instead saw something straight out of a sci-fi nightmare.
Jiang Feng ignored her.
Once he confirmed his next target, he ran in the opposite direction—away from the old woman.
In the blink of an eye—
He reached the window at the end of the hallway and smashed it.
CRASH!
Glass shards flew as Jiang Feng dove out from the fourth floor.
The old woman's eyes widened in disbelief, thinking she must be dreaming.
THUD!
Jiang Feng landed with bent knees, cracking the concrete beneath him.
The impact was louder than his earlier gunfire.
Without hesitation, he turned and ran off—
Toward another criminal hideout, not far from here, near the docks in southern Manhattan.
"You bastard! My window!"
The old woman, now furious, rushed toward the shattered window, seething with rage.
But as she passed the door of the drug dealers' apartment—
She noticed something sticky under her shoe.
She frowned and shone her flashlight down.
Her eyes met a large pool of dark, bloody liquid, reeking of iron, seeping from inside the room.
She saw bullet holes in the door and wall—and her heart nearly gave out, her blood pressure skyrocketing.
Only now did she realize—
That strange silver-armored man had come to kill.
According to information Linglong had extracted from a target's phone—
The criminal gang at the docks was engaged in a vile human trafficking operation, which they only conducted at night to avoid attention.
As Jiang Feng approached—
The stench of the sea grew stronger.
At the loading area near the shipping containers, more than ten people were busy.
They all wore matching Adidas tracksuits, holding flashlights, with one person on lookout.
They worked in a disturbingly organized fashion, pulling contraband from the containers.
Inside were—
Latin American girls.
All beautiful, carefully selected, but dressed in rags, looking battered and terrified, clearly victims of kidnapping.
"Please… let us go… we're begging you…"
In the dead of night—
Their voices trembled with helplessness.
"Let you go? That's not how we do business. We keep our word—we deliver every package to the buyer."
The man in charge, in an Adidas tracksuit, sneered.
He glanced coldly at the kneeling women, who looked like lambs awaiting slaughter. His eyes held no pity—only a craving for money.
As soon as he finished—
Several gang members pulled out their guns and waved them menacingly.
"Keep quiet. This is America. You're illegal nobodies with no ID, no rights. Even if your bodies were dumped in the streets, the cops wouldn't care."
Under the threats of the snakehead gang—
The girls could only weep silently, too scared to speak, unsure what fate awaited them.
But Jiang Feng—
Already knew the answer.