Chapter 11: The Professional Gambler

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Link moved into his new apartment, handing over his old place to the development company. His two neighboring units remained unoccupied, indicating that their owners were in no rush to move in. After moving all his belongings into place, Link realized just how few possessions he actually had.

His wardrobe was particularly sparse—jeans, jackets, t-shirts, and only two suits, both of which were S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms. As he prepared to head out for a shopping spree, Coulson unexpectedly showed up.

Upon entering, Coulson guided Link to the master bedroom's walk-in closet, where, unbeknownst to him, a small, hidden armory had been constructed.

"Link, you can store some items here. This area is secured with a password, fingerprint, and retinal scan," Coulson explained.

"Impressive! When did you do this?" Link asked curiously.

"Overnight. No construction happens here after dark, so we completed it in a single night," Coulson replied with a smile. "You should visit the division office and pick up some weapons. Safety is paramount. By the way, we've also replaced your door—it's now bulletproof and explosion-resistant."

"Got it. Thanks for the heads-up," Link replied. He planned to use his X-ray vision to fully inspect his new home later.

After seeing Coulson off, Link set up the three-layer security system, using the space to store some cash. No need to buy a separate safe now. With the walk-in closet clearly organized, Link decided it was time to go on a major shopping trip.

He aimed to buy handcrafted, high-end suits, luxury leather shoes, branded shirts, ties, and even diamond-studded cufflinks. A professional gambler couldn't afford to look shabby, and his wardrobe needed to reflect the caliber of the games he would be attending.

Additionally, his home's liquor cabinet needed to be stocked with premium spirits—not in vast quantities, but enough to host the occasional poker night, although that seemed unlikely. He also decided to pick up some fine cigars. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s extensive database had plenty of suppliers to choose from.

But now, the most pressing need was a car.

When selecting a vehicle, Link avoided the flashy supercars. Instead, he opted for a sleek, black fifth-generation Mustang Shelby GT500. He didn't want to appear like someone who suddenly struck it rich and splurged on a luxury car. The muscular design of the Shelby GT500 fit his style perfectly, especially the manual transmission, which thrilled him. He chose a minimalist, all-black exterior with a silver cobra emblem.

Link spent several days at S.H.I.E.L.D. polishing his driving skills, earning praise from his instructor. He was more than capable of handling the powerful car.

With his new ride ready, Link embarked on a grand shopping spree, visiting international brands and commissioning custom-tailored suits. His physique was impeccable, and the tailor was full of compliments.

By the end of the shopping trip, Link had filled half his walk-in closet, satisfied that it was enough. After all, he couldn't possibly wear everything all at once.

Before long, news of his first poker game came in. Dressed to the nines, Link drove to the location in his new car.

…

Link quickly made a name for himself in New York's elite circles. His poker skills garnered praise from many, and he earned a reputation among the city's wealthy. However, his access remained limited in certain social spheres. While New York was one of the world's financial capitals, with an abundance of affluent individuals, not all circles were accessible to him.

Some groups, like friends' circles, consisted of people organizing poker nights purely for fun. Link hadn't cracked that circle yet. Others were professional networks, where participants bonded over industry-specific discussions. Then there were influence-driven networks, where poker games were tied to political or business interests. Link hadn't penetrated that sphere either.

He found himself fitting into two categories: the money circle and the skill circle. The money circle consisted of high rollers who played for huge stakes, often people with serious gambling addictions. These players had various ways of making money, as they wouldn't be able to sustain their gambling habits otherwise.

The skill circle, on the other hand, attracted elite players with excellent self-control, who sought out high-level competition purely for the challenge.

These two circles proved to be valuable sources of information. The gamblers, obsessed with their addiction, cared little for ethics, while the skilled players often held influential positions, providing insight into many areas.

After a while, Link reported his findings to Coulson. "Good job," Coulson said. "You're developing a solid foundation in intelligence gathering. Soon, you'll be able to expand your operations."

"By the way, have you heard anything from the big poker games in Las Vegas recently?"

"Nothing yet," Link replied. "From what I've gathered, I don't think they'll be contacting me anytime soon. If needed, I could participate in some international tournaments."

"There's no need for that yet. Most tournament participants won't have the kind of information we're after," Coulson said confidently. He then quipped, "You've been making a lot of money lately, haven't you?"

"Heh, are you hinting that I should treat you?" Link joked.

"No need. But there's something you should keep an eye on—Hell's Kitchen." Coulson's tone became serious. "Remember Wilson Fisk, the guy you ran into in Las Vegas? He's recently partnered with some folks to form a joint construction company, with plans to redevelop Hell's Kitchen."

"He was born there. His father was involved in gang activity but disappeared, likely killed in a gang feud."

"After leaving Hell's Kitchen, Fisk built a criminal empire while also dabbling in legitimate businesses. He has one foot in both the underworld and the corporate world."

"Now he's back in full force, and he's managed to unite the gangs in Hell's Kitchen. It's odd because he shouldn't have that kind of power."

"We know he's working with someone, but the details are murky. We've only confirmed that a significant portion of his funding comes from Japan."

"If you can dig up any information, it would be invaluable."

Link nodded slightly and asked, "Do we know his current whereabouts?"

"We know he's been frequenting an art gallery lately. You might want to try looking for him there," Coulson replied. Fisk's movements were erratic; as Hell's Kitchen's top boss, he didn't follow a set schedule.

By now, Fisk had fully assumed his role as the infamous Kingpin. In Las Vegas, it seemed he had been in negotiations with the Hand. With their help, he had unified Hell's Kitchen's gangs.

Additionally, under the banner of his construction company, he was buying up properties in the area, signaling large-scale redevelopment plans. Meanwhile, the Hand sought the dragon bones hidden underground—a fact Link was already aware of. However, he needed to source his information carefully.

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