13. Money problems

'.....'= Thoughts 

"....."= Conversations 

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Arriving at Harlem, the first thing that Harry had to was to get some money. He currently has no money and he wasn't foolish enough to use cards in such a situation. Thus he needed some hard cash and other then stealing from people he had no other choice.

As the sun began to set, Harry made his way to a nearby park to lay low until nightfall. He found a secluded bench and sat there, observing the people coming and going. He watched the sky turn from a vibrant orange to a deep, dark blue as the stars began to twinkle above.

As the park began to empty out, Harry knew it was time to make his move. He slowly got up from the bench and strolled out of the park, blending in with the shadows as he made his way to the streets of Harlem. The streets were alive with the sound of music and laughter, but Harry knew better than to let his guard down.

He made his way to a particularly shady alley, where the streetlights flickered and the air was heavy with the scent of smoke and sweat. This was the kind of place he was looking for. A place where the shadowy figures lurked in the darkness, counting their ill-gotten gains and looking for their next score.

The previous Harry had knowledge of various details about different areas of New York and other important cities, which were also transferred to the current Harry's brain after the transmigration. Information about various criminal organizations and their areas of influence was also transferred to his brain.

'Thank you, man. Don't worry, I will kill Alexander as a sign of gratitude for letting me occupy your body,' Harry thanked the deceased previous owner of the body and promised him revenge. No matter what anyone said, he was definitely doing this to repay a debt and not for the hefty reward points.

As he walked deeper into the alley, Harry could hear the low murmur of voices and the clinking of bottles. He spotted a group of men gathered around a makeshift table, passing around a bottle of liquor and exchanging hushed words. This was his chance.

With careful precision, Harry edged closer to the group, keeping to the shadows and listening in on their conversation. He heard them bragging about their latest heist, boasting about the wad of cash they had scored.

Although Harry couldn't tell whether they were just some independent criminals or belonged to any specific criminal organisation, as there were no specifications of that in their atire nor there were any sort of recognisable tattoos or such that depicting that they belonged to a certain organisation.

Though, Harry didn't care much. He was just focused on obtaining the pile of cash from these goons in order to book a hotel for a few days till the time of completion of his quest.

Without wasting any time, Harry sprang into action, using his Leaf Style Taijutsu to deliver a swift and powerful kick to the nearest goon. The man staggered back, dropping the bottle of liquor he had been holding as he fumbled to draw a knife from his belt. The other men reacted quickly, pulling out their own weapons and advancing on Harry with menacing glares.

But Harry was faster. He moved with the grace and precision of a trained ninja, dodging and weaving through the alley as he unleashed a barrage of strikes and kicks, overwhelming the robbers with his incredible speed and strength. His movements were a blur as he incapacitated the men one by one, their painful grunts and curses filling the air as they crumpled to the ground under his relentless assault.

"Who the hell is this guy?!" one of the robbers cried out, his voice filled with disbelief and fear as Harry spun around, delivering a punishing blow to his midsection that sent him crashing into a stack of empty crates.

"Stop him, you idiots!" another shouted, his words cut off by a sharp cry of pain as Harry delivered a devastating knee strike to his chest, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him gasping for air.

The fight was over in a matter of seconds, the alley now filled with the groans and whimpers of the defeated robbers as they struggled to regain their senses.

Harry who stood in the center of the chaos, leasurely walked towards the money which had fallen off the table during his confrontation with robbers.

"A good haul indeed," Harry muttered as he pocketed the bundle of dollar bills.

"Now what should I do with you guys?" Harry looked at the goons who were still crying in pain.

As Harry stood contemplating his next move, he felt a bit uneasy, feeling like that he was being watched. His instincts were on high alert, and as he turned to scan the perimeter of the alley, he saw a dark figure quickly approaching him.

As the figure stepped into the clearing, the dim light from the streetlamps revealed more details of his outfit. He wore a sleek, matte black mask that covered the upper half of his face, leaving only his sharp eyes visible. The mask was designed with intricate patterns that added an air of mystique to his appearance.

His suit was adorned with protective armor plates, strategic in their placement to offer both flexibility and defense. The suit seemed to be tailored for agility and combat, with reinforced gloves and boots that spoke to the figure's readiness for physical confrontation.

Despite the darkness of the alley, the crimson hues of the emblem on his chest stood out, a vibrant contrast to the shadowy ensemble. The symbol was a silhouette of a devil's head with two curved horns, a striking insignia that exuded an aura of strength and justice.

The figure's approach was smooth and silent, with every step calculated and deliberate. His presence commanded attention, and it was clear that he was no stranger to the perils of the night.

As the figure finally came to a stop in front of Harry, he glanced at the fallen robbers with a steely gaze, taking in the aftermath of the confrontation.

The figure spoke with a voice that was both commanding and controlled, "You've made quite a mess here, friend. It seems you've taken matters into your own hands just like me huh?"

Harry noted the undercurrent of authority in the figure's tone. He weighed his options carefully, unsure of how to handle this unexpected encounter.

Before he could respond, the figure continued, "I don't condone vigilantism, but I can sense that there's more to this than meets the eye. Tell me, what drove you to this path tonight?"

'When did the Daredevil become so talkative?' Harry wondered.

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