Mike slammed his blade into the Iron Man Suit.
Yes, he slammed it, using the blunt side of the blade, with penetrating force.
"Penetrating force" was Mike's term, meaning to let the force penetrate and destroy the interior.
This slam only sent Stark airborne.
After landing, Stark curled up on the ground like a cooked shrimp, retching.
"Ugh, ugh, what did you do?" Stark removed his faceplate and spat out a stream of yellow acidic liquid.
"I suggest you improve the internal shock absorption of your armor," Mike said, then, after verifying the necessity of his suggestion, he yawned and headed downstairs.
Stark couldn't help but curse, "Motherfucker, that was awful. Mike is definitely a devil."
Time flowed like water.
Obadiah, as expected, was still at large, but that was Stark's problem, not Mike's.
Almost a month had passed.
Mike had taken on two commissions in total.
The first case involved a company's USB drive being stolen, which contained important bidding documents.
Nine out of ten such cases involve an inside man.
In fact, it was indeed related to an inside man, but by the time Mike got close to the truth, the inside man had committed 'suicide'.
According to the commission, finding the inside man and recovering the USB drive would conclude the task.
The stolen company itself wasn't clean and didn't want to stir up more trouble.
However, a guy in a tailored suit with meticulously combed hair came to warn Mike: "Don't meddle in affairs that aren't yours to manage or capable of managing; get lost if you don't want to die."
Mike couldn't tolerate that.
So, Mike helped the NYPD solve a murder case for free.
That same night, Mike appeared in the bedroom of the guy with excessively greasy hair and used scissors to give him a dog-chewed haircut.
He told him, "No matter how rich or powerful you are, even if you've played group sports with the U.S. President, once you're dead, all your fireworks are extinguished, understand?"
The guy immediately wet himself, a pity for the tens of thousands of dollars worth of mattress and silk pajamas.
It proved that the richer one is, the more greedy they become, and that greed extends to life itself.
Everyone wants to go to heaven, but no one wants to die.
Facing the blade at his throat, the guy swore on his family and honor that he would never trouble Mike again, nor would he pursue tonight's incident.
Did Mike believe him?
No.
To some people, family and honor are worthless compared to their own life, wealth, and power.
Don't be angry; it's not just humans who are like this; Vampires are the same.
Didn't the Reaper incident involve Marquisno experimenting on his son Norma and using his daughter as bait?
It should be said that most intelligent beings are like this.
Don't be disheartened; although there are many despicable individuals, there are also beings who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their families, or even for strangers.
Everything and everyone has two sides.
Mike didn't leave immediately but hid in the shadows.
The guy had also seen 'big scenes,' or what he considered big scenes, and quickly calmed down; if his crotch wasn't still wet, he would have looked quite imposing.
The knocked-out bodyguard woke up and rushed in, relieved to see his employer was fine, and asked if he should gather people.
The bodyguard was a former special forces member and had a large group of capable teammates who, with enough money, could assemble a fully equipped special squad.
The guy asked a question: "How were you knocked out?"
The bodyguard was embarrassed because he didn't know either.
At this point, the guy became sober.
Damn, if the bodyguard didn't even know how he was knocked out, how could he be expected to protect him from Mike's threat?
Revenge was certainly desired, but personal safety was the prerequisite.
After a moment of silence, the guy said, "Tonight's matter... let's pretend it never happened."
Only then did Mike leave.
By the way, this job didn't yield any soul power, but it paid well; the system charged two hundred thousand U.S. dollars, and Mike's commission was twenty thousand.
Alas, a mere twenty thousand...
Mike thought that robbing the rich to help the poor was a faster way to make money, and he just happened to be the "poor" one.
The second job was when a rich third-generation heir happened to be at the bank during a robbery.
What was he doing there?
Flirting with the receptionist!
The rich second-generation father commissioned Mike to rescue his rich third-generation son because the rich first-generation Grandpa was very fond of his rich third-generation grandson.
The commission was one hundred thousand U.S. dollars, and the task was simple.
All Mike had to do was enter the bank through the ventilation shaft and then quietly knock out all the robbers.
Things went smoothly; he didn't need a possession card or even use Senbonzakura.
The most ridiculous part was that the commission for a father to save his son didn't even provide soul power.
These wealthy families truly are heartless.
Aside from these two unappealing but not discardable commissions, Mike spent most of his time tracking news about Bullseye.
Previously, when Fat Jerry heard Mike wanted information on Kingpin, he was so scared that he started shedding hair, shaking his head like an electric fan.
Fat Jerry was audacious enough to even swindle Vampires, but he dared not traffic information about Kingpin.
"Kingpin's people are ubiquitous in the black and gray industries; most of the people who work for me also work for Kingpin.
"As for the small-time thugs... don't expect them to be loyal; if I dare to investigate Kingpin, Kingpin's people will find me within thirty minutes..."
"Also, it's said that Kingpin has over a hundred residences in New York, and he randomly selects where to stay each night, so even Kingpin himself can't be sure."
Being an underworld emperor isn't easy; countless people want his head and to take his place.
If Kingpin were as flamboyant as Iron Man, he would have died ten thousand times over already.
"Let me tell you, Kingpin might even have a nuclear bomb... It's said that when the Soviet Union disintegrated, Kingpin bought a nuclear bomb from a general and secretly transported it into the U.S.
"That's why when the almost insane Kingpin was carrying out a massacre-like cleansing of other gangs and controlling the U.S. underworld, the U.S. government strangely remained silent, allowing Kingpin's 'underworld empire' to turn from a dream into reality."
If a lunatic is intelligent, calm, extraordinarily powerful, and capable of leveling a city of millions, then this lunatic becomes an existence that the U.S. government grits its teeth at but cannot touch.
"However, in New York in recent years, the one gaining prominence is a drug dealer named Frank Amick, hehe," Fat Jerry sneered.
Mike immediately realized that with Kingpin, a fierce tiger, present, who would dare to "gain prominence" in New York?
Moreover, were The Hand, Japan's Yakuza, the Russian Mafia, and the Triads all just decorations?!
So, this Amick was either Kingpin's puppet, or a target Kingpin put out in the open to draw fire, or both.
Mike was a lone wolf; finding the elusive Kingpin in vast New York was too difficult!
Unless he sought help from S.H.I.E.L.D. again, but Mike didn't want "seeking help" to become a habit, because once it became a habit, "seeking help" could easily turn into "dependence."
Since he couldn't find Kingpin, why not just make Kingpin come to him?
"It's you, Frank Amick," Mike said with a sinister smile, "Consider yourself unlucky."