Ch33. Warning

A big and bald man in a white suit was eating among other businessmen, discussing deals, and having fun when a bodyguard suddenly approached him and leaned closer to his ear before whispering, "We have a reaction."

The big man's eyes slightly widened before he gave an amiable smile to the people he was eating with, "I am sorry. Something came up, I will be right back. Enjoy the food in the meantime."

He stood up and walked with the guard towards the back of the restaurant. He owned the place so nobody tried to stop them.

They arrived at an empty office where they wouldn't be disturbed and the bald man sat down into a cozy and luxurious armchair before casually gesturing towards the man, "Go on. Speak."

The bodyguard didn't sit down on the couch nearby. He knew his place. He wasn't too thrilled to be the bearer of the bad news but one couldn't choose in his kind of job, "The Green Homies are all dead. To the last man."

That stopped the big man short, causing him to look at the bodyguard in a veiled interest, "Are you sure? Not even one of them survived?"

"Yes, Sir. Hundred percent. The police already arrived there due to an 'anonymous tip'." The bodyguard said with a serious expression. "Some of them were clearly killed during a shoot-out but some were clearly shot in the head after they were already incapacitated."

The bald man in a white suit pursed his lips, "Did our watcher see what happened?"

The bodyguard nodded and started, "He saw someone attacking the warehouse -"

"One person?" The bald man interrupted him when he got the impression that was the case. This was important. There were fifty of Green Homies and all were heavily armed. If one person killed them all...

"Yes, Sir. A female." The bodyguard inclined his head.

"Any clue about her identity?" The bald man raised an eyebrow at that. There were not all that many renowned female killers and even fewer of them were still active. Or was it somebody new? Or unknown? Now that would have been a bit troublesome.

"No, Sir. She wore black attire with a hood and our watcher had to keep his distance. The most he got from the distance is that she was quite petite. All we know is that she was most likely well-trained and very dangerous." The bodyguard plainly reported.

The bald man rolled his eyes. No shit Sherlock. Of course, she was dangerous! She alone massacred over fifty gangsters.

"Go on." He started pacing around, deep in his thoughts.

The bodyguard nodded, "According to the watcher, at first, she blew up the front door and used some device that discharged electricity to discourage the members of the Green Homies from going out by cooking two of theirs alive with electricity. Then she scaled the wall towards a small opened window on the second floor of the warehouse and then it got quiet for a few minutes."

"A trained assassin, then." The bald man clicked his tongue. That was unexpected.

Naturally, all hired killers could be loosely called assassins but only a very few could pull off the stealth necessary to earn being called such.

In the underworld, that word had a bit different meaning. Killers were killers, but assassins were worse. More skilled and better. Not everyone could afford or had an opportunity to hire one of those.

The most known one in the underworld was Black Widow. Her career was not long. She barely managed to stay free for a year before she got on the radar of some really dangerous people and they sent one of her sort to deal with her permanently.

Surprisingly, she survived.

It was years since she was forcefully recruited by SHIELD but the name of that girl is to this day remembered because of how ruthless and efficient she was.

Becoming her target meant certain death.

It still does. She is just leashed now. No longer a wildcard and that meant less danger. As long as the members of the underworld didn't cross their path with SHIELD, there was no way to get an encounter with the Black Widow.

She was no longer a problem.

Unaware of his boss's thoughts, the bodyguard continued, "Then suddenly many loud gunshots went off at the same time. It was as if tens of people concentrated their shooting to hit something... but the intensity of the gunshots slowly decreased until it was completely quiet again."

It took a bit of effort for the bodyguard to keep his expression straight. The report sounded ridiculous. Nobody could survive the concentrated shooting of tens of people.

Instead of laughing and deciding the report was fanciful bullshit, as the bodyguard thought would happen, the bald man seemed to grow sour, "And then?"

"A bearded man turned up and hurriedly walked inside. Our watcher did not go in because of the risk. He only heard more gunshots. They were finishing off the survivors." The bodyguard finished his report before his eyes flickered with uncertainty, "But..." He stopped himself, not knowing if he should say the next part or not.

"Yes?" The bald man gestured at him with his hand to go on.

"Nobody walked out of the warehouse. Not until the police arrived." The bodyguard said. That could mean many things, to be honest. But it seemed important.

"Interesting..." The bald man's eyes widened and he abruptly stopped pacing. "No matter. Send someone to take over the newly unoccupied territory and cease any plans to provoke the Stark Industries. Killing everyone was a clear warning. Messing with them will be more trouble than it is worth it."

The bodyguard slightly bowed and left to relay the new orders while the bald man smiled to himself.

"Mhm. Now I am glad I used these lowlifes to test the waters for me. Stark is quite the wolf in the sheep's clothing, eh? Hiring an assassin to deal with them permanently. Who would have thought." He chuckled before sighing in exasperation, "One never really knows with these rich kids. They look so harmless most of the time. How scary..."

Yes, Stark was an annoying and arrogant ponce who could dish out some very fierce words... but words were just that. Words. Stark didn't seem the type to be able to hurt a fly despite being an arms dealer.

He was just a smart kid born into a wealthy family with a legacy and never had to get his hands dirty himself despite killing countless people by proxy.

Nothing threatening for those from the underworld. Stark was just a big fat sheep that was sadly protected by too many people from the shadows. The army, that loosened its protection now that Stark stopped manufacturing weapons, and SHIELD, that also surprisingly did not seem too keen on protecting Stark at the moment for some reason.

And so, the bald man decided to... try his luck, so to speak. After all, it wouldn't do to not give Stark a warm welcome now that he decided to come to New York without any sort of 'protection'.

Surprisingly, it failed spectacularly.

The man's smile suddenly fell and was substituted with a frown, "How annoying. So much potential for profit lost."

Unfortunately, it was better to not be greedy when it came to people like Stark. If they were sheep, then, by all means, they should be milked for every benefit but wolves with Stark's resources... those were the most dangerous people in the world.

With another sigh, this time a tired one, the man started walking towards his business partners. He couldn't leave them hanging for far too long lest they decide to make deals without him.

That would have been bad. He would have needed to show them why that is a bad idea which would leave a bad taste for the future business. If they survived that long, of course.

Alas, being the Kingpin was a tough job.