Mindy, Mindy!" Dave saw Mindy staring blankly at the closed elevator door and couldn't help but wave his hand up and down in front of her.
Mindy lifted her foot and expertly kicked Dave's shin.
Hiss~
The tip of her small leather shoe made intimate contact with his tibia, making Dave gasp in pain.
"Who is he?" Dave quickly recovered. This little pain was nothing compared to his usual training; it was just a small dish.
If this continued, he felt he would get used to it, and even… anticipate it.
"Mike Tang…" Mindy looked at the business card, softly reading Mike's name, "…I don't know, an old friend of Big Daddy's, perhaps?"
"Let's go." Mindy put the business card into her small pocket. She had avenged Big Daddy, but she was filled with confusion about the future. She was just a little girl, and a World without Big Daddy was too difficult.
After going downstairs, Mike found a public telephone.
Yes, a public telephone. This magical phone booth, which has almost disappeared in China, was still stubbornly surviving on Marvel streets in 2010, making a huge contribution to criminals avoiding phone tracking.
Enthusiastic citizen Mike reported a multiple murder to the operator, involving drug manufacturing, drug trafficking, corrupt Police, money laundering, and other criminal activities. The documents in the safe should contain a lot of evidence.
After hanging up the phone, Mike drove home.
The next day, before Mike had even brushed his teeth, Skye said with a cold face, "Someone is looking for you downstairs!"
"Who is it?" Judging from Skye's expression, it was most likely a past romantic entanglement.
Mike went downstairs and saw Mindy sitting on the sofa, looking around curiously, like a curious baby.
Chloe hid behind the shelf, wanting to go say hello but not daring to, her face flushed.
Old Earl and Peter whispered to each other.
Peter: "It can't be the boss's daughter, can it?"
Old Earl's tone was uncertain: "That's unlikely, how old is the boss?"
Mike said in a bad tone, "Aren't you going to work? Are you slacking off? Be careful, I'll deduct all your wages."
"Why are you here?" Mike asked Mindy.
Mindy said aggrievedly, "You must be responsible for me…" and even squeezed out two tears from the corners of her eyes.
Oh, this!
Peter subconsciously reached for his phone, ready to call the Police. This was twenty years to start!!!
Two chilling gazes pierced Mike's back.
"Skye, let me explain, it's not what you think."
"How do you know what 'that' I'm thinking of is?!"
Ten minutes later.
Second floor.
Mike explained Mindy's special nature to Skye. She wasn't a normal loli; she had received various firearms and cold weapon combat training since childhood. It was no exaggeration to say that she could easily defeat ten Skyes. More than ten Adults had died by her hand.
Mindy's values, interests, and hobbies were different from ordinary people.
Next, Mike roughly explained what happened last night.
"So… Mike, you knew Mindy's father, and you just happened to run into Mindy while doing something last night, and your target happened to be the enemy who killed Big Daddy." Skye organized her thoughts.
"Yes, exactly." Mike nodded like a pecking chick.
"Then, Mindy, Mike defeated all of your enemy's subordinates, and although Mike left the enemy for you, you don't feel like it counts as personally avenging?"
This was asked to Mindy.
Mindy nodded: "Yes."
Skye roughly understood. Revenge was Mindy's only clear goal after Big Daddy's death. She didn't need to think; she just had to do it.
Revenge could not fill the void of losing Big Daddy. After successful revenge, Mindy could neither live like a normal child nor know what to do next.
She was lost.
So Mindy's so-called "responsibility" meant asking Mike to continue training her like Big Daddy and assigning her tasks.
"What should we do?" Skye had a headache.
"How should I know!" Mike also had a headache, "I think we should call Mindy's guardian first. They might be anxious enough to call the Police."
Mindy raised her hand: "Don't worry, I left a note, and Marcus is a Police officer, how could he call the Police…"
Skye: "…"
Mindy still called Marcus. Marcus was already as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, almost calling the Police.
Who says Police officers can't call the Police?
Twenty minutes later, a black SUV braked sharply in front of the supermarket. Marcus, dressed in a Police uniform, hurriedly got out of the car.
Peter: "It's over, it's over. The boss really made a mistake he shouldn't have. What should we do? What should we do!"
"Mindy!"
Although he was worried sick, Marcus immediately straightened his face when he saw Mindy.
"I'm sorry, I've caused you trouble," Marcus said apologetically.
"No, no, Mindy is very well-behaved."
Marcus was stunned for a moment. Are you sure "very well-behaved" can be used to describe Mindy?
"I've never heard Mindy mention you before. How did you and Mindy meet?" Marcus asked seemingly casually.
Skye looked at Mike.
Mike said, "Damon had previously entrusted me to investigate some matters."
"What matters?"
"That… it's not convenient to say."
Marcus secretly scrutinized Mike, who was young, handsome, and smiling, completely different from Damon's bitter, resentful, and extreme appearance. Then he looked at Mindy, who had a hint of sparkle in her eyes. After thinking for a moment, Marcus decided not to sour the relationship for now.
"Oh, I just asked casually." Marcus expressed his gratitude, then drove away with Mindy.
Watching the car drive away, Skye sighed, "That Damon is too extreme, how could he treat Mindy…"
Apparently, Skye, like Marcus, disagreed with Big Daddy's educational philosophy.
Peter breathed a sigh of relief: "I thought the boss was going to jail. It really… scared me. It's hard to find a job now."
"Die!"
Mike kicked him, and Peter nimbly dodged.
In the evening, a luxury car stopped outside the supermarket.
Mike walked forward.
The car window rolled down, and the stone-faced driver said, "Kingpin wants to see you. Get in."
Mike didn't waste words and got in the car.
The two remained silent throughout the journey, not saying a single word. The car turned into Hell's Kitchen's dock and stopped outside a dilapidated warehouse.
"Please come in!" The driver was stingy with words.
The warehouse was empty, with only a table and two chairs.
The table was covered with a White cloth, with a gilded vase in the middle holding fresh purple tulips. On either side were a plate and a stemmed glass. The plates held raw steak, vanilla sauce, and lemon slices, and the stemmed glasses contained blood-red wine.
Kingpin stood with his back to the door, his massive body exuding a powerful oppressive presence.
Kingpin turned and gestured: "Please sit."
"Thank you." Mike was not polite.
"The best beef tenderloin flown in from Japan by private jet, try it."
After Mike sat down, Kingpin followed suit, and the chair beneath him seemed to let out a pitiful groan.
"I don't like raw beef."
"That's truly a pity." Kingpin tied on a White napkin, cut a piece of beef, put it in his mouth, chewed heartily, his mouth full of red meat juice.
A large piece of beef went down Kingpin's gullet in a few bites. He picked up the red wine glass and drained it in one gulp. Kingpin picked up the napkin and carefully wiped the corners of his mouth.
"Mike Tang, you caught my attention shortly after you moved into Hell's Kitchen."
"Oh?"
"Some of the street thugs whose legs you broke were running errands for my subordinates' subordinates." Kingpin stared, "But I didn't come looking for trouble with you. Do you know why?"
"Why?" Mike felt like he was performing crosstalk, like he was the straight man, cooperating with Kingpin's act.
"Because they are waste."
"Oh." Mike pretended to realize.
He didn't expect Kingpin to be a fan of showing off as well.