A four-gold coin rush fee.
A bit expensive!
If he hadn't been registered and taking jobs at the Continental Hotel for a while, Russell would have suspected Charon was making a cut as a middleman.
On the surface, a four-gold coin rush fee, double the intelligence fee he paid yesterday, seemed a little unreasonable.
However, considering the Punisher's strength, a four-gold coin rush fee was not entirely unacceptable.
As the hotel's ace assassin, the hotel wouldn't take advantage of him in this regard.
Without hesitation, Russell took out four gold coins from his pocket and placed them in front of Charon.
Charon accepted the gold coins and showed a flawless professional smile.
"Mr. Bradley, Mr. Winston asked me to tell you that you might consider taking a break for a while recently."
The Winston Charon mentioned was the manager of the New York Continental Hotel.
Although Russell was the hotel's ace killer, he had only met Winston two or three times.
Winston specifically asked Charon to relay this message, which was nothing more than a reminder for him to keep a low profile.
The NYPD hadn't found out yet that he was responsible for the textile factory incident, but the hotel knew everything clearly.
He accepted Crossbones' commission in the hotel lobby yesterday.
His office was also burned down yesterday due to the fight between Crossbones and the Punisher.
If the hotel still couldn't figure it out after all this, Winston and the hotel's intelligence personnel could collectively resign.
"Please thank Mr. Winston for his good intentions, but I have no plans to rest for now."
As long as the Punisher was alive, he wouldn't stop.
There's only a thousand days of being a thief, not a thousand days of guarding against one.
If he didn't kill the Punisher, the Punisher might find his apartment anytime.
This guy was a genuine paranoid.
Let alone bombing the apartment with a rocket launcher, even using C4 to blow it up, if the Punisher thought it was necessary, he could do it without any psychological burden.
As for whether the other residents of the apartment would suffer collateral damage, that wasn't within his consideration.
Hotel underground bar.
After paying a one-gold coin entry fee, Russell sat down in an empty booth and ordered a bottle of whiskey from the waiter.
Shortly after he sat down, Perkins, who was like an ice beauty, walked over.
"The Brotherhood thing, was that you?"
Perkins lit a lady's cigarette and asked directly.
"Something so obvious, is there any need to ask?"
"Aren't you afraid of attracting the NYPD's attention?"
"Catching people requires evidence. I'm just a law-abiding and tax-paying private detective."
Picking up the whiskey the waiter had just delivered, Russell poured himself and Perkins a glass and said with a smile.
A major case involving dozens of deaths would indeed attract the attention of the NYPD.
But Russell wasn't worried about it at all.
The bullets and pistol he used yesterday were bought from the Continental Hotel and had never been used before.
Even if the NYPD found every bullet at the scene for ballistic comparison and detailed inspection, they wouldn't find anything.
Besides the Brotherhood killers he shot and killed, everyone else either died in his symbiote form or by Crossbones' gun.
It was the first time he had used his symbiote form yesterday.
Even if it wasn't, the NYPD couldn't find anything from the wounds on those bodies.
Before leaving the textile factory, he had confirmed that there were no surveillance devices inside.
The only thing that could potentially link him directly to the incident were the various rumors in the underground world.
But rumors cannot be considered evidence.
In the more than two years he had been a private detective and killer, he had also met many powerful and influential people.
Even without the hotel's help, he had ways to legally distance himself from the textile factory incident.
The US is superficially a country with a sound legal system.
But there are countless rules that can be exploited within it.
Kingpin is a good example.
Everyone knows Kingpin is the king of the New York underworld. The NYPD knows, the District Attorney knows, and the Mayor of New York knows.
But so what.
Kingpin is still alive and kicking.
Although Russell didn't have as vast a network as Kingpin, it wasn't difficult for him to slightly leverage the existing legal rules.
"Crossbones is dead, now only the Punisher is left to deal with. Add me in, how about it?"
Perkins exhaled a smoke ring and said slowly.
"You just escaped from him a few days ago, aren't you afraid you won't be so lucky this time?"
"If it were anyone else trying to deal with him, I'd definitely consider it, but you're different. I have confidence in you."
Perkins had no intention of giving up.
She was a woman who held grudges.
"Then you might be overestimating me a bit. Let alone making a move on him, I don't even know where he is right now."
"Don't be so stingy. I know you don't like others interfering with your actions, but if you agree to let me join, I can give you compensation!"
"What kind of compensation?"
Perkins didn't answer him immediately but stood up and came to sit beside him.
Then, leaning into his ear, she whispered in a seductive tone, "I'll stay with you for three days. You can do whatever you want to me."
As she spoke, Perkins also pressed her body against him, letting Russell personally experience her softness.
Honestly, Perkins was indeed a very attractive woman.
However, Russell was not at all tempted by the compensation she offered.
What a joke?
This wasn't compensation, this was clearly Perkins taking advantage of him.
Heh, women!
Don't think I'll fall for it!
"This compensation is too expensive, I can't afford it. You should find someone else."
Russell rejected Perkins as usual.
Perkins had been eyeing his body for quite some time. If he hadn't been so pure, he would have been completely devoured by Perkins long ago.
"Are you even a man or not, or are you saying you can't?"
Perkins, as expected of an experienced female killer, unleashed a big move right away.
I can't?
I don't know how much I *can*!
I defeated a demigod last night!
A demigod with the bloodline of Zeus, King of the Gods, who is very likely to become the God of War in the future!
Although he knew Perkins was using reverse psychology, he had to admit she was an elite female killer who understood men's minds very well.
"To be honest with you, you are indeed very attractive."
"As long as you say the word, the men in the bar probably wouldn't mind doing some physically and mentally enjoyable things with you."
"I've refused you repeatedly, not because I can't, and not because you're not attractive, but simply because I don't trust you somewhat."
Russell slightly moved away and said slowly.
"Why?"
Perkins didn't expect Russell's reason for refusing her to be this and pressed for an answer.
"Because I think you might be a SHIELD agent!"