20 Are You Incapable?

The expedited fee of four coins.

A bit pricey!

If Russell hadn't been providing his services at the Continental Hotel for some time, he might have suspected that Charon was acting as a middleman to skim off the price difference.

At face value, the expedited fee of four coins was twice the information fee he paid yesterday, which was slightly unreasonable.

However, considering the Punisher's capabilities, the four-coin expedited fee was not entirely unaffordable.

As the hotel's ace assassin, the hotel wouldn't shortchange him in this regard.

Without hesitation, Russell took out four coins from his pocket and placed them in front of Charon.

Charon accepted the coins, displaying a flawlessly professional smile.

"Mr. Bradley, Mr. Winston wanted me to convey to you that you might consider taking a break during this period."

The Winston Charon mentioned was the head of the New York Continental Hotel.

Although Russell was the hotel's ace assassin, he had only met Winston a couple of times.

For Winston to have Charon relay this message, it was simply a reminder for him to keep a low profile.

While the New York Police Department hadn't yet linked him to the annihilation of the Textile Factory, the hotel was fully aware of the situation.

Yesterday, he had accepted a contract for the Cross in the hotel lobby.

His office had also been burned down due to the clash with the Cross.

If the hotel couldn't deduce this much, then Winston and the hotel's intelligence personnel might as well collectively resign.

"Please thank Mr. Winston for his kind intentions, but I don't have any plans to rest for now."

Until the Punisher was dead, he wouldn't stop.

Only vigilance for a thousand days can prevent theft for a thousand days.

If he didn't kill the Punisher, there was no telling when the Punisher might locate his apartment.

That guy was a true paranoid.

Let alone using a rocket launcher to level his apartment, even if he used C4 to blow it up, as long as the Punisher deemed it necessary, he would do it without any psychological burden.

As for whether other tenants in the apartment might suffer collateral damage, that wasn't within his consideration.

The hotel's underground bar.

After paying the entry fee of one coin, Russell took a seat in an unoccupied booth and ordered a bottle of whisky from a server.

He hadn't been sitting for long when the icy beauty, Perkins, walked over.

"Did you do the Brotherhood's thing?" Perkins asked directly after lighting a ladylike cigarette.

"It's quite obvious, isn't it?"

"Aren't you afraid of attracting the attention of the New York Police Department?"

"Arrests require evidence. I'm just a law-abiding private detective who never evades taxes."

Russell picked up the whisky that had just been brought by the server, poured a glass for himself and Perkins, and smiled.

A case involving dozens of deaths would indeed draw the attention of the New York Police Department.

But Russell wasn't worried about that at all.

He had bought the bullets and handguns he used yesterday from the Continental Hotel, and he hadn't used them before.

Even if the police conducted a meticulous analysis of every bullet found at the scene and carried out detailed examinations, they wouldn't find anything.

Apart from the Brotherhood's assassins killed by his gunshots or dying at the hands of the Cross, there was nothing else to find.

He had already confirmed before leaving the Textile Factory that there were no surveillance devices inside.

The only thing that could directly link him was various rumors in the underworld.

But rumors weren't evidence.

During his two-plus years working as a private detective and assassin, he had also made acquaintances with influential figures.

Even without the hotel's assistance, he could easily use entirely legal means to dissociate himself from the Textile Factory incident.

The surface of the United States might appear as a country with a sound legal system.

But there were plenty of rules to exploit within.

Kingpin was a good example.

Everyone knew that Kingpin was the emperor of the New York underworld—the New York Police Department knew, the local prosecutor knew, and even the Mayor of New York knew.

But so what?

Kingpin was still alive and kicking.

Although Russell didn't have a network as extensive as Kingpin's, slightly utilizing the existing legal rules was no challenge for him.

"The Cross is dead, and only the Punisher remains. Include me as well. What do you say?" Perkins exhaled a smoke ring and said slowly.

"You only just managed to escape from his hands a few days ago. Aren't you afraid that you won't be so lucky this time?"

"If it were anyone else trying to deal with him, I'd certainly consider it, but you're different. I have confidence in you."

Perkins hadn't given up on her plan.

She was a woman with a long memory.

"Perhaps you're giving me too much credit. Besides, even if you're willing to help, I still don't know where he is."

"Don't be so stingy. I know you don't like others interfering with your actions. If you agree to let me join, I can offer you compensation!"

"What kind of compensation?"

Perkins didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stood up and sat down beside him.

Then, in a seductive tone, she whispered into his ear, "I'll accompany you for three days, and you can do whatever you want to me."

As she spoke, Perkins pressed her body against his, letting Russell experience her softness up close.

To be honest, Perkins was indeed a woman with considerable charm.

However, Russell was not at all enticed by her so-called compensation.

'Are you kidding me?

This isn't compensation; it's clearly Perkins trying to take advantage of me.

Ha, women!

Don't think I'll fall for it!'

"Your offer is too costly, I can't afford it. You should find someone else."

As always, Russell rejected Perkins.

Perkins had been eying his body for more than just one or two days. If he hadn't maintained his integrity, she would have taken advantage of him long ago.

"Are you even a man, or are you incapable?"

Perkins, experienced as a female assassin, had unleashed her killer move.

'Incapable?

You have no idea how capable I am!

I defeated a demigod last night!

A demigod with the bloodline of the king of all gods, Zeus, and a strong likelihood of becoming the god of war!'

While aware that Perkins was trying to provoke him, he couldn't deny that she was an elite female assassin who understood the psychology of men.

"To be honest, you do have quite the charm."

"As long as you say the word, the men in this bar probably wouldn't mind engaging in something mutually pleasurable with you."

"I've rejected you multiple times not because I can't perform, and not because you lack charm. It's simply that I'm somewhat distrustful of you."

Russell subtly distanced himself and said slowly.

"Why?"

Perkins hadn't expected that Russell's reason for rejecting her would be this, prompting her to inquire further.

"Because I think there's a possibility that you're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent!"

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