The engines outside the church finally went quiet.
Anqiluo was about to step out and see what was going on. Honestly, he didn't think anyone in Hell's Kitchen would dare come looking for trouble anymore. From what Alexei had told him, after that explosion at the human trafficker Byrd's place, the local gang leaders had quietly reached an agreement—
Don't mess with Anqiluo.
Maybe some rich guy had suddenly found religion and wanted to donate. Or maybe someone just came for an overpriced drink.
That thought ended the moment he reached the door.
The old wooden door tore off its hinges and flew past him with a loud crack, slamming into the floor and shattering into pieces.
Anqiluo raised a hand, stopping Number One and the others from rushing forward in anger. No matter how furious they were, they couldn't do anything here. Against people like this, they'd only get themselves killed.
When he looked back at the entrance, his expression had gone cold.
It didn't matter who these people were or why they came.
To him, they were already dead.
Standing in the doorway was a man in a tight suit, a bullseye tattoo on his forehead. He wore a twisted grin and casually flipped a knife in his hand.
Behind him stood a group of men. At the front was a large white man in a white suit, frowning as he looked inside.
Not everyone who wore a tight suit was a hero.
Some were just killers.
And this one clearly belonged in that category.
Anqiluo was about to kill him on the spot when Matt's voice cut in.
"Bullseye! Kingpin!"
Anqiluo didn't know much about Bullseye, but it wasn't hard to guess that was the knife-throwing lunatic in front of him.
Kingpin, though—
That name he knew.
The true ruler of New York's underworld.
So the fat man in the white suit must be him.
Just a few days ago, he and Matt had been talking about Kingpin. Now the man had shown up at his door.
Fine.
If Kingpin had come here himself, then maybe it was time to stop holding back.
Anqiluo had no habit of letting people hit him without hitting back.
As for what would happen to the city after Kingpin died?
That could be Matt's problem.
In the brief moment Anqiluo hesitated—
Bullseye moved.
A flash of silver cut through the air.
The knife shot forward, aimed straight at Number One's throat.
Precise.
Lethal.
This wasn't intimidation. This was an attempt to kill.
That settled it.
Anqiluo raised his hand, about to summon bone armor onto Number One—
But Matt was faster.
He had been on guard the entire time. The moment the knife left Bullseye's hand, Matt's baton snapped up and knocked it aside.
Clang!
The blade hit the floor.
"Stop! Bullseye, what are you doing?!" Kingpin's furious shout followed.
Before coming here, Kingpin had already investigated Anqiluo. He'd questioned several witnesses from the earlier incident and reached a clear conclusion—
They couldn't win.
That white bone armor was nearly indestructible. On top of that, Anqiluo possessed immense strength and unknown abilities.
Kingpin wasn't here to fight.
He was here to negotiate.
But Bullseye had just ruined everything.
Kingpin had never liked him to begin with. If not for his usefulness, he would've disposed of him long ago.
Today, the man had finally picked the wrong target.
Anqiluo ignored Kingpin completely.
Bone armor formed over his body, just like before. In his hand appeared a long bone spear without a tip, more like a heavy staff.
He swung it down toward Bullseye's head without hesitation.
Whatever needed to be discussed could wait until after this guy was dead.
Bullseye reacted instantly. His body twisted backward as he retreated, throwing knives in rapid succession.
Kingpin raised a hand, stopping his men from interfering. He watched coldly.
If Bullseye died here, so be it.
It would even help him gauge Anqiluo's attitude.
The knives struck Anqiluo's armor one after another—
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Not even a scratch.
Accuracy meant nothing if you couldn't break through.
Annoyed by the constant attacks, Anqiluo flicked his hand and released a skill.
Attack Reflection.
Any physical damage dealt would rebound onto the attacker.
At full strength, it returned more than six times the force.
Bullseye was aiming for weak points, targeting joints like the knees.
He threw another knife—
But before it could land, the effect triggered.
His leg snapped cleanly at the knee.
It wasn't a cut.
It was as if something invisible had severed it instantly.
Blood sprayed out.
"AH—!"
Clang!
The knife hit Anqiluo's armor harmlessly.
The gang members watching were stunned.
One second, Bullseye had the upper hand.
The next, he'd lost a leg.
It happened too fast for anyone to process.
Anqiluo walked over to him, calm and almost gentle.
Then he smiled—
And brought the staff down again.
The second leg shattered.
Not a clean break this time.
It crushed through bone and flesh, tearing it apart at the knee.
Now both legs were gone.
Balanced.
Much better.
Bullseye lay on the ground screaming, reduced to a broken wreck.