Chapter 11: Selling Business

Galter Private Hospital, located on the coast of Long Island in Queens, New York, was a sanctuary for retired veterans, offering affordable medical services to alleviate their financial burdens.

Frank Castle, now the Punisher, resided within these walls. Standing alone on the rooftop, he gazed blankly at the blue sky and white clouds, still struggling to accept his new reality as a disabled man, unable to avenge his family.

"Perfect timing. I heard you were on the rooftop and was worried you might jump off. That would be a loss for the country."

Frank Castle was a genuinely good person, a man of pure intentions who idolized Captain America. His life's goal was to become a shield for his country, inspired by the values of the American icon.

However, fate had dealt him a cruel hand. His wife and two children were murdered, victims of a senseless vendetta. Frank's despair had consumed him, turning him into a vengeful monster.

The speaker's words snapped Frank back to reality. He turned to face the man, only to see the Asian assassin who had crippled him. His eyes widened, and his entire body began to quiver with rage.

"Don't be so angry. You know you can't beat me!"

The assassin produced a photograph, a family portrait of Frank's loved ones. Frank's demeanor transformed into that of a raging bull, ready to charge at the assassin. Despite his handicap, he was still a formidable opponent.

"You remember me, don't you? You often bought your son Captain America toys and comics. Let's talk about our life ideals, shall we?"

Frank's anger boiled over, and he lunged at the assassin, only to be swiftly kicked to the ground.

"You're a monster! Kill me!"

The assassin's words were laced with a mix of pity and disappointment. He began to pour water from a bottle onto Frank's face, attempting to calm him down.

"I'm a killer, not affiliated with any organization. You can call me a freelancer. I'm a dirty person who makes a living by getting my hands dirty so others can stay clean. I know who killed your family, and I can bring them to you. But I have a problem – I'm short on funds."

Frank's anger slowly gave way to confusion. He couldn't understand why the assassin was offering to help him.

"I think David would be disappointed if he saw you like this. You're not the man he idolized. We're not like the comics, Frank. We're not heroes who kill only the bad guys. We're just people who make choices."

The assassin's words cut deep, but Frank's anger still simmered.

"I'll kill you! I swear it!"

The assassin's expression turned somber, and he began to speak in a more serious tone.

"If I were to summon the spirits of your family and show them your current state, would your son still call you 'Super Dad'? Would he still admire you?"

Frank's eyes widened in horror, and he begged the assassin not to do such a thing. He knew of the existence of dark magic that could summon spirits, and the mere thought of it sent shivers down his spine.

"I'm not going to do that, Frank. But I want to help you. I'll kill the person who destroyed your family, and I'll give you the evidence you need to confirm their identity. You can be a good person again, Frank. You can be a hero like your son wants you to be."

The assassin patted Frank's head, a gesture of pity and understanding. He left a business card on the chair and departed, leaving Frank to ponder his offer.

"Think it over, and call me if you're interested. This is a private number, so please don't share it with anyone."