Matt stood in front of Number One and the others, shielding them. When he heard Bullseye's agonized screams, he frowned for a moment, then relaxed.
At a time like this, he knew exactly where he stood.
That brief hesitation wasn't sympathy. If anything, he was wondering why Anqiluo hadn't killed Bullseye outright.
In his eyes, people like this deserved to die.
If Anqiluo hadn't been so overwhelmingly powerful, Matt would've already stepped in himself. Even if it meant getting injured—or worse—he would've fought to protect the innocent from the gangs.
That was his belief.
Anqiluo planted his foot on Bullseye and looked up at Kingpin and the others with a faint smile.
The gang members shuddered under his gaze and quickly lowered their heads.
They had seen everything.
A man who could calmly smile while crushing someone's legs like that—
That wasn't normal.
Bullseye's screams echoed through the church, sharp and unrelenting.
Kingpin had already accepted the truth. He couldn't win this fight.
But even knowing that, he refused to show fear.
He wouldn't allow it.
He stepped forward alone, walking up to Anqiluo.
He didn't even glance at Bullseye.
That liability had already been discarded.
"Mr. Anqiluo," Kingpin said, greeting him politely with a slight nod. "If I said this wasn't my idea, would you believe me?"
Anqiluo kept smiling, but his eyes were cold.
"Why would I?"
At this distance, Anqiluo could kill him with a single swing or a casual strike. There was no need to worry about tricks.
"Because I'm Kingpin. Wilson Fisk," he said calmly. "I came here to talk, not to cause trouble. If not for this idiot…"
Anqiluo thought it over.
Based on what he knew, there was a good chance Kingpin was telling the truth.
Still, trusting that alone would be foolish.
But since Kingpin wasn't a threat right now, there was no harm in hearing him out.
Killing him here would just create a bigger mess for Matt to deal with later.
"Yeah, your guy's definitely an idiot," Anqiluo said, pressing his foot down harder on Bullseye. "And he's paying for my door."
Bullseye let out another scream.
Anqiluo grabbed him, dragged him inside, then paused.
With a look of mild disgust, he tossed Bullseye's limp body near the entrance, using him to block the doorway where the door used to be.
At least this way, the blood wouldn't stain the floor.
Kingpin followed him inside without hesitation.
The wooden bench creaked under his weight as he sat down, but held.
"Go ahead," Anqiluo said, signaling Number One to bring two beers. "What do you want?"
Of course, he was already counting the drinks toward the repair bill.
"I'm here to negotiate," Kingpin said, meeting his gaze directly, ignoring Matt's tense presence nearby.
"Negotiate what?" Anqiluo smirked. "This is a church. I'm not a gang. I don't sell drugs. If you hadn't shown up here, I wouldn't have bothered you."
"That may be true," Kingpin said. "But you've already affected the gangs in Hell's Kitchen. Lately, several groups have been using your name, claiming you're their boss. I want to know where you stand."
Anqiluo's expression darkened instantly.
"That's happening?"
The first person he thought of was Alexei.
If that idiot had been using his name to expand territory, Anqiluo was going to make sure he regretted it.
"Alexei?"
"No," Kingpin said. "He's not involved. These groups claim they've been paying you for protection."
That caught Anqiluo off guard.
The one he actually tolerated wasn't causing trouble.
The others were.
"I haven't taken protection money from them," Anqiluo said. Then he added, "They came here on their own. It was… confession money."
Kingpin almost laughed.
Confession?
Gangs don't confess.
They commit crimes, admit nothing, and keep going.
"That doesn't matter," Kingpin said. "What matters is your position."
"Simple," Anqiluo replied. "I'm not taking over anything. I'm never becoming a gang leader."
"I see." Kingpin nodded. "Then I'll handle them. As for the money they claim to have paid you, I'll send it monthly. In return, you stay out of gang affairs."
There was clear killing intent in his voice.
In the underworld, that was how problems were solved.
Anyone who broke the rules disappeared.
Anqiluo didn't object.
He wasn't here to save criminals.
They made their choices.
Now they'd deal with the consequences.
Kingpin stood up, setting down the barely touched beer.
"Then we're done here."
Anqiluo glanced at the bottle. "You're disciplined."
"I try to be," Kingpin said with a calm smile.
It was hard to believe someone like him ruled the city's underworld.
"Right," Anqiluo said. "That'll be one hundred thousand for the door."
Kingpin didn't hesitate. He wrote a check and handed it over.
"It's clean," he added. "You can use it without concern."
Anqiluo didn't comment.
Whether it was truly clean or not wasn't his problem.
He walked Kingpin to the door.
As they passed Bullseye, Anqiluo paused.
He summoned the bone staff again—
And crushed Bullseye's skull with a single strike.
"Hope you don't mind," Anqiluo said with a faint smile. "I don't like loose ends."
Kingpin extended his hand.
"I respect that," he said. "I would've done the same. He was more trouble than he was worth."
They shook hands.
Then Kingpin turned and left with his men.
Anqiluo watched the convoy disappear down the street and sighed.
Hell's Kitchen was about to get messy.
A storm was coming.