In front of the fully armed "professional team," Murakami and Madame Gao instantly broke into cold sweat.
They knew their own weight. No matter how good their kung fu was, it still couldn't beat an RPG.
"Everyone, stand down!"
Madame Gao shot Murakami a death glare, immediately ordering the ninjas in the shadows to retreat. Then she squeezed out an extremely stiff smile toward the masked captain.
"It's all a misunderstanding. As we say in the East, 'Even if a friend comes from afar—'"
"—he must still be killed?" Daniel smoothly finished for her.
Madame Gao: "…"
The masked captain didn't give her time to recite more proverbs. He tapped his watch impatiently.
"Cut the crap. Transfer the money. We've got another pickup; the client's already spamming us."
Are you bounty hunters or DoorDash?
Madame Gao stopped talking and signaled Murakami with her eyes: clean up your own damn mess.
Murakami's face was the color of pig liver.
He really wasn't scared in theory, but right now his "theory" was being pointed at by a rocket launcher.
In the end, he tremblingly took out his phone, muttered a few words, and said, "Money's sent."
"Appreciate the business. Five-star review, please."
After confirming receipt, the masked captain waved his hand. The dozen black-clad men withdrew from the abandoned factory in perfect order, faster than the fire department.
Only after they completely disappeared did Murakami and Madame Gao dare to exhale.
That tactical movement… even the NYPD SWAT team would be ashamed.
If outsiders saw this, they'd think a retired Delta Force squad had turned to gig-economy kidnapping.
"You absolute moron!"
Murakami cursed in Japanese, feeling the ultimate humiliation.
Madame Gao tried to save face: "It's fine. There's an old Eastern saying: 'A step back—'"
"—and the rage multiplies tenfold?" Daniel helpfully added again.
Madame Gao: "…"
Can you let people finish their proverbs?!
"This is all because of YOU!"
Murakami turned his anger toward Daniel, eyes practically spitting fire.
He stepped forward and sneered, "You'd better cooperate, tell us who you really are and hand over the ledger, or I'll make you regret being born—"
His—"
Daniel pretended to think for two seconds, then said solemnly, "My identity… those who know, know. Those who don't, I can't explain in a lifetime. The water's too deep, the stakes are too big. Telling you would only hurt you. So, do you understand?"
Murakami: "…"
Madame Gao: "…"
Understand your ass! That was pure nonsense!
"Playing games with me?! Die!"
Murakami's rage meter exploded. He drew his katana with a flourish, ready to turn Daniel into sashimi.
"Perfect!"
Daniel's eyes flashed. He snapped the ankle restraints like they were made of paper and sent a beautiful, merciless kick straight into Murakami's family jewels.
BAM!
Murakami had both hands raised high holding the sword—his crotch completely undefended. The kick landed perfectly.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"
A scream that could shatter glass echoed through the factory.
Daniel turned and sprinted, laughing loudly as he ran, "Want to catch me? Keep dreaming!"
The Hand ninjas chased after him, only to watch Daniel disappear into the night like a ghost. They couldn't even see his shadow.
Everyone froze in place, looking at each other.
Madame Gao was stunned.
Is this guy part cheetah?!
Murakami finally recovered from the soul-crushing pain. Seeing Daniel actually escape, he almost coughed up blood in fury.
Enduring the agony below, he hissed through clenched teeth, "Post another bounty on the dark web right now! Triple—no, five times the amount! I want that bastard alive!!"
The subordinates immediately posted a new, astronomical bounty.
But not five minutes later…
Familiar footsteps approached again.
The same dozen masked men reappeared at the factory gate, dragging a tied-up Daniel like a package.
"Evening. New order received. Target delivered. Please sign here."
Murakami: "…"
Madame Gao: "…"
Later, in a dark corner.
Daniel was cheerfully splitting the cash with the "bounty team."
"Thanks for the hard work, brothers."
"No problem at all, Boss."
The masked men lifted their masks—every single one was a S.H.I.E.L.D. field agent.
Some faces were very familiar; they were the same "angry shareholders" who once wanted to cook "Little Tony" alive. All veteran actors.
Daniel had decided: why let perfectly good bounty money go to strangers?
So, using his Level 6 clearance, he hired a bunch of agents to "catch" him, claim the bounty repeat.
Catch → escape → new bounty → catch again → infinite money glitch.
Sadly, the exploit was patched quickly.
After several rounds of "miraculous escapes" and "lightning-fast recaptures," Murakami finally realized he was being farmed like a mob in an MMO and stopped posting bounties.
After a few days of grinding, Daniel's total profit settled at $13 million.
Converted to Berry, that was definitely One Piece billionaire-pirate level.
He was quite satisfied.
"Agent Daniel, next time there's easy money like this, don't forget us!" the veteran agents said eagerly.
Daniel was curious. "You guys that broke?"
The veteran agent scratched his head awkwardly. "Truth is… we all went all-in on Stark Industries stock. Then that kid shut down the weapons division overnight and the stock crashed 40%. We almost had to drive for Uber to pay rent."
Daniel: "…"
So when you said you wanted to boil Tony Stark into soup… that wasn't acting at all. That was real emotion!
After taking their generous cut, the agents left happily.
They weren't worried about Fury punishing them.
Because everything was done with Nick Fury's silent approval—as long as they kicked a portion upstairs to refill S.H.I.E.L.D.'s black budget, the Director would pretend he saw nothing.
Nick Fury: 😡