Kingpin's gaze was devoid of warmth, devoid of emotion.
This was classification.
That look was judging where this newly appeared item should be placed on the shelf—was it a tool, or was it trash?
He didn't understand.
How did he, an insurance salesman, end up being targeted by this guy?
What kind of insurance would this guy, who could physically contend with Spider-Man, need?
His Danger Prediction was no longer a subtle hum; it had become a continuous, low background noise.
The sound was as dull as an old refrigerator's compressor running constantly in his ear, reminding him at all times that he stood before a predator at the top of the food chain.
"I hate the way he looks at me."
Jessica's voice rumbled from her throat.
"Like looking at a cow about to be sent to the slaughterhouse."
"Correction."
William's lips barely moved, his voice squeezed out from between his teeth.
The social smile on his face was impeccable.
"He looks at you like a cow; he looks at me like a fly next to the cow. At least you still have the value of being slaughtered."
The Tactical Vision module in his brain was running frantically, simulating various possibilities, but all deductions pointed to the same cold result.
Can't win.
Can't escape.
Any conventional means of resistance seemed laughable in this fortress built of money, power, and violence.
A well-dressed, solemn-faced man appeared silently beside them like a ghost, bowing slightly.
His appearance caused not a ripple.
"Mr. Rodriguez, Miss Jessica."
His voice was flat, without any emotional fluctuation; each word seemed printed by a precision instrument.
"Mr. Fisk wishes to speak with you both."
This was a summons.
William could clearly feel Jessica's arm, which was linked with his, tense to its limit in an instant.
He had no doubt.
If he showed even the slightest thought of resistance.
This woman would immediately stuff the head of this messenger into the ceiling.
Then, she would punch a hole through this load-bearing wall and begin a breakout that was destined to be bloody and futile.
"Calm down."
William, with the arm linked with hers, gently squeezed the back of her hand with an almost imperceptible force.
The pressure from his fingertips conveyed a single message:
Trust me.
This was the only comfort he could offer.
He nodded at the expressionless man, his smile impeccable, without a single flaw.
"Of course, it is my honor to speak with Mr. Fisk."
The crowd parted like a tide pushed by an invisible hand, silently and quickly making way for them.
Every gaze cast their way was filled with complex meanings—curiosity, schadenfreude, wariness, and a hint of hidden fear.
William felt as if he was walking a red carpet to the guillotine, with the spectators ready to applaud the bloody drama about to unfold.
Finally.
They stood before that mountain-like figure.
Experiencing Wilson Fisk's oppressive presence up close was a completely different experience from observing him from afar through a crowd.
Within his massive body lay a nearly tangible sense of power; the air around him became viscous, requiring more effort to breathe.
"Mr. Rodriguez."
Kingpin spoke, his voice surprisingly gentle and mellow, with a magnetic quality cultivated by good upbringing, yet imbued with an undeniable authority.
"Welcome to my home."
"Mr. Fisk, thank you for your generosity."
William bowed slightly.
His posture was perfectly humble, like any ambitious young businessman eager to break into high society.
"Your taste, like your reputation, is impressive."
Kingpin's lips curved into an arc, and his deep, bottomless eyes turned to Jessica.
"Miss Jessica, we've met. When you were still working for Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz."
Jessica's chin tilted slightly.
Her eyes, which were always filled with weariness, now held undisguised disgust and defiance.
"I don't remember; I've met too many scumbags."
The messenger attendant next to them visibly paled, fine beads of cold sweat appearing on his forehead.
William's mind had already begun calmly reserving a burial plot for Jessica, and incidentally, a auspicious spot for himself nearby.
Kingpin let out a low chuckle.
He seemed completely unoffended, finding it rather amusing.
"Frankness is an underestimated virtue."
His gaze returned to William.
"I hear you are engaged in a very interesting business, providing protection for some… special friends in this city."
Here it comes.
William's heart sank heavily.
"Risk is everywhere, Mr. Fisk."
He forced himself to look directly into those light-devouring eyes, keeping his voice steady.
"My job is simply to provide a quantifiable price for an unpredictable future. That's all."
"A very good concept."
Kingpin nodded.
He gently tapped the polished marble floor with the tip of his cane, which was inlaid with a large diamond.
"Tap."
The crisp sound was particularly jarring in the breathless silence.
"Accidents are always unavoidable, Mr. Fisk. That is also the meaning of my job's existence."
William met the pressure, saying word by word, "However, I prefer to nip risk in the bud before it occurs, rather than dealing with a pile of broken glass afterwards."
He was gambling.
Gambling that a person like Kingpin appreciated not a fawning dog, but a wolf cub daring to bare its fangs in front of him.
Even if those fangs seemed naive and ridiculous at the moment.
A glint of interest flashed in Kingpin's eyes.
"Well said."
He approved.
It was the appropriate appreciation shown by a superior to a subordinate.
"Then, Mr. Rodriguez, I happen to have an opportunity for you to show me how your company 'nips risk in the bud.'"
He turned his body, his massive frame clearing a view for William to look out the window.
In the darkness outside the estate, a row of dazzling headlights suddenly lit up, their beams tearing through the night.
Several black, heavy trucks, like steel behemoths, were slowly entering the heavily guarded side gate of the estate.
"A batch of artwork, shipped from Europe, of considerable value."
Kingpin's voice softened again, like a patient elder guiding a junior.
"I have maximized security. But I believe more in systems, in… insurance."
He paused.
Giving William enough time to process.
"I hope your company will provide an exclusive, comprehensive protection agreement for the safety of this shipment."
He stated slowly, every word carrying a command.
"The convoy will pick up the goods at the dock tomorrow. You will be fully responsible until they are safely delivered into my private vault."
Kingpin turned back, his massive body once again completely obscuring the World outside the window.
He gazed at William again, and beneath the gentle facade was a will forged of steel.
"Consider it your pledge of allegiance to me."
-------------------------------
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