"Can I ask about the smell of those Bliss Certificates?" Foggy asked curiously.
"You really do not want to smell it. The stench is more pungent than industrial chemicals," Matt replied with a frown. "Some of those guys can barely keep themselves together."
"Stop, that's enough!" Foggy said, already feeling nauseous.
While the two of them talked, John wandered around the small law office. He picked up the document Foggy had been puzzling over, glanced at it, and suddenly remarked, "You didn't end up there by coincidence, did you?"
Matt and Foggy stopped talking. Foggy called out, "Hey, don't touch that!"
John set the document down and turned to Matt. "It seems you're a lawyer with a strong sense of justice."
Matt was silent for a moment, then explained, "Simon doesn't just prey on women desperate to survive. He abducts women from ordinary families and forcibly brands them with the Bliss Certificate. Those women cannot resist. Even if they are abused, the judge will classify them as women who 'willingly fell' because of that certificate."
This was Hell's Kitchen, where even the judges had to follow certain unspoken rules.
A client of the law firm had been branded with a Bliss Certificate, which meant she was only compensated for the insult.
Matt's sense of justice pushed him to want to destroy the Hells Angels bar and free those poor souls. He had been scoping out the place today when he found John, the "lamb" who had nearly walked into a trap.
"You mean Tracy?" Foggy interjected. "The judge already dismissed that case."
"So they're even more arrogant now." Matt's guide stick struck the floor heavily. He gripped it tightly, unease etched on his face. "There's a new case, isn't there?"
Foggy shoved his hands in his pockets and fell silent. He had just been handling another Bliss Certificate case. The same method had been used: a forcibly branded certificate that easily destroyed a girl's innocence.
"We're just lawyers. There are some things we can't change," Foggy sighed. "We're not the police, and we're certainly not Iron Man, Matt."
"Maybe the police can't control it?" John's voice cut in.
Only then did Foggy notice that John had already settled into a seat.
Just as Foggy was about to speak, John picked up another document and read it over.
"It's no secret that Simon gives those people offers they can't refuse," John remarked, raising his eyebrows with a wry chuckle. "After all, money is a powerful thing."
"You've finished your coffee," Matt said, standing to see John out. "I'll take you to the door."
"No," John replied, making no move to get up. "Are you a lawyer?"
"It just so happens I have a little trouble. If you can handle it for me, I wouldn't mind paying a substantial commission to solve your urgent need." John's tone was meaningful. "It's a considerable sum."
Foggy wanted to refuse, but if they kept working pro bono for the poor, they might not even be able to afford dinner.
Jack was still at the door, but this time his face was filled with confusion.
"Matt, you're going to cost me my job."
Matt, the lawyer who had helped Jack's sister, looked back at John. He sighed, "Be accommodating, Jack. I've got child support for your sister. Remember?"
"Of course I remember." Jack hesitated. His boss, Simon, was ruthless and could kill him at any time. No matter how you looked at it, it was not worth it to risk himself for a favor.
Seeing Jack's reluctance, Matt had no choice but to turn to John and say, "As you see, we can't get in without a Bliss Certificate. Only acquaintances or those with a membership card can enter."
"I think I can handle that, Mr. Lawyer."
John stepped past Matt and approached Jack, standing uncomfortably close. Jack instinctively wanted to back away but stopped.
John produced a bundle of green bills, worth no less than two thousand dollars.
"I think you can close your eyes for half a minute. It's not a big deal. I just want to go in and have a look."
He smiled, harmless on the surface. His voice was tempting. "You make thousands a month, but wouldn't you like to earn more?"
"No one will ever know."
He was the devil, whispering temptation.
The loyal security guard hesitated. In this place, his strength was only good for guarding the door. In a world where nearly everyone had a weapon, this was considered a safe job. Thinking of the television that had just broken at home, he finally gave in, took the money, and stuffed it into his pocket.
A smile appeared on John's lips. He turned to Matt, "I think we can 'accidentally' get in now."
Jack closed his eyes and pretended not to see anything. As the other security guard started to protest, John shoved a bundle of cash into his mouth.
Matt had never considered such a method. As a not-so-wealthy lawyer, he never had such bold tricks. For John, if a problem could be solved with money, there was no need to use force.
Inside the bar, the music was thunderous, the air thick with noise and a vague melody. Those seeking extreme pleasure could not wait any longer. Unfortunately, of the two who entered, one was blind and the other had no interest in such things.
They moved deeper inside. The long corridor led to a door. The pounding music seemed to pierce the eardrums and rattle the brain.
Matt's eyebrows furrowed. The noise was clearly uncomfortable for someone with sensitive hearing, and he reached up to touch his ears.
John glanced at him. "Are you alright?"
"I'll manage. I'm more curious about why you came in," Matt replied, still puzzled by this "lamb" who had nearly become a victim of the Bliss Certificate. "This has nothing to do with you being questioned by the FBI."
"There is a connection."
Even over the music, their conversation was kept low.
"The man who blew up my car works for someone here."
John's gaze swept over the bar, its neon lights glaring. On the dance floor, men and women moved wildly, driven by their desires, their bodies twisting as if electrified. There were no dance steps, just pure instinct.
A staircase led to a second floor, guarded by real gang members, not just security.
"Alright, show me your money, employer," Matt said, noticing the group. A blind man was often more sensitive than a sighted one, and he was eager to test his money-making skills.
John did not refuse. He pulled another bundle of bills from his seemingly bottomless pockets and handed it to Matt.
Matt walked over, trying to look official. Before long, John saw Matt being grabbed by the collar.
John shook his head and walked over. "I don't know what's wrong, but could you let my friend go?"
The bodyguard glared at John. "Get out of here."
Matt's muscles tensed, ready to fight if needed. As a lawyer, it was normal to keep fit, especially in this neighborhood.
John was not angry. He simply looked at the bodyguard, his reddish-brown eyes growing deep as he slipped his wand from his sleeve and gave it a subtle wave.
Confundo (Confundus Charm)
"I believe you were told to let me go upstairs," John said firmly.
The bodyguard hesitated, his eyes unfocused, and then nodded. "That sounds right."
Matt was released and straightened his collar, though his mind was full of questions. The sudden change in attitude was baffling.
John patted Matt's shoulder and chuckled, "When you're out in the world, you need power and connections."
Matt's doubts grew, but he kept them to himself. From the start, they only knew each other's first names, but John had brought him to this den of criminals as if he knew Matt could protect him.
They climbed the stairs. Compared to the chaos below, the second floor felt almost like paradise. This was the origin of the names Hell and Heaven.
Matt's ears twitched. He could hear conversations in several rooms.
"How long have you been like this?" John asked as they walked.
Matt shrugged. "When I was a kid, I was blinded by radioactive material in an accident. But when God closes a door, he opens a window."
"That explains it," John nodded. "No wonder a blind man can be as dangerous as Nick Fury."
They stopped as more bodyguards appeared.
"Alright, your turn," Matt said, gesturing to John.
John approached the man in leather at the door, took out a slip of paper, and read, "A206, second floor, Hell Paradise Bar. Is Simon in?"
"Who are you?" The man in leather demanded, his eyes full of malice.
John smiled and leaned in, lowering his voice, "Tell him... the Night Stalker is coming."