America, New York.

As one of the few domestically stable countries in the world, New York has a lively atmosphere that is different from other countries. Even though the world is still in the midst of a war between the Axis Powers and the Allies, pedestrians on the streets of New York still go to bars to talk and laugh. Have a glass of whiskey or discuss which discotheque to go to tonight.

Black, green, and white cars were speeding on the streets, and the white kid selling newspapers shuttled among the crowds carrying a big bamboo basket. Compared to Poland, Austria, and Norway, Isaye truly felt that this city was a paradise.

"Mr. Isaac, where are we going?" Eisenhardt, who had put on a new set of children's clothes, stood on the right side of Isaac and looked at the road in confusion as the cars passed by.

He wore a very conspicuous gold ring around his neck, and almost every passer-by couldn't help but glance at Eisenhardt's neck.

"Max, I remember telling you that you only need to call me Isaac from now on." Isaac said expressionlessly. While he was talking to Eisenhardt, his eyes were staring at a man across the street. White guy with messy hair.

Under Isaac's gaze, the man walked into an inconspicuous alley carrying a briefcase.

"Come with me." Isaac immediately crossed the street and followed Eisenhardt into the alley.

Iverson is a well-known blackmail master. As long as he takes action, anyone will be shaved off a thick layer of oil and water by him. With this talent, Iverson only joined the underworld for a year and became the right-hand man of the big boss.

At the end of the alley is a garage with an iron gate wide open. At this time, three black men with tattoos all over their bodies are repairing a garbage truck inside.

"Look, the rich man Allen Iverson is here, and Fisk will be happy all day again." A black man joked, swinging a wrench.

"Klink, if you respect me more, I should treat you better." Iverson took out a handful of dollars from his suit pocket and threw it on the hood of the car, and asked: "Where's Fisker? I have something to ask him about."

"The third room on the left on the second floor." The three black men immediately divided up the money. After Iverson got the answer he wanted, he quickly walked into the garage and went up the stairs to the second floor.

The Industrial Gang is a gang in New York. It has many strongholds throughout New York, and this garage is one of them. The manager is Tok Fisk. Anyone who follows him knows what a scheming Fisk is. A ruthless villain, his targets never end well.

Fisk is also very aggressive. Whenever there is a fight with other gangsters, as a small boss, he will always be at the forefront. For this reason, many of Fisk's enemies secretly hope that this guy will die on the streets one day.

"Dong dong dong."

"Come in."

Iverson kicked open the door, and the strong smell of alcohol immediately poured out of the room, accompanied by the smell of inferior cigars.

"Your life is really low-level, Fisk." Iverson walked into the room with his briefcase. He saw that the floor was full of cigar butts and empty wine bottles, as well as a large number of Luo women's magazines. The black and white TV in the corner of the room was playing watching a baseball game.

"This is life, Iverson. It seems like you don't like my room." A mountain of meat struggled to stand up from the sofa. Through the light of the TV, Iverson could barely see the mountain of meat clearly. 's true face.

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This is a white man. He is at least two meters tall and is covered in fat. Perhaps because he cannot find suitable clothes, Fisk is naked at the moment. When he is facing the door, Ivor Sen suddenly couldn't help but cover his eyes.

"Oh! Can't you put on some pants?" Iverson said unbearably: "I just met three charming ladies last night. We spent a wonderful night at the New York Star, but now my beautiful Destroyed by you."

"If you weren't Iverson, I would definitely smash you into a pulp right now." Fisk flicked the cigar in his hand away, picked up a bath towel at random, and wrapped it around his lower body.

"Why did you come to me today?"

Iverson threw his briefcase onto the sofa where Fisk was sitting before, "The big boss wants you to tidy up this neighborhood as soon as possible. Stark Industries plans to buy the land here recently. If you can buy it at a low price in advance, maybe We could make a lot of money out of Stark."

"It's for money again." Fisk couldn't help but curl his lips: "Why don't you let me arrest Stark directly? If it were you, you would be able to scrape an amazing amount of oil and water from that guy."

"Use your brain, Fisk. Stark is now a partner of the military. If you catch him, I guarantee that in three minutes your shabby garage will be filled with tanks that can blast you into the sky." Iverson said speechlessly: "In that briefcase is the money that the big boss left for you to buy the land this time. The amount is not much. You can do it yourself. It is not enough for you to pay for it. If there is any leftover, it will all go to you." you."

Fisk smiled broadly and said, "I like this. I will definitely have a lot of money left over by then."

"boom!"

At this moment, there was a loud crash downstairs, as if something hit the iron plate.

Fisk, who has been in the underworld for many years, immediately frowned and shouted loudly out the door: "Klink, what happened?"

No one downstairs answered his question, and now even Iverson knew something was wrong.

"It seems like a rat has slipped into my territory." Fisk pulled out a double-barreled shotgun from under the sofa and stuffed two rounds of shotgun into the barrel in front of Iverson.

"Are there no guys I can use?" Iverson asked.

"This is my territory, and I'm not in the habit of asking guests to fight for me." Fisk sneered, swayed and walked downstairs, and Iverson quickly followed without saying a word.

……

"Is... Isaac, someone is down." When Eisenhardt's huge figure appeared in Fisk's field of vision, he immediately informed Isaac who was standing aside.

Three unconscious black men fell at Isaac's feet. Hearing the footsteps coming from the stairs, Isaac looked over calmly, "Are you the leader here?"

"boom!"

Fisk didn't say anything nonsense, and pulled the trigger directly on Isaye's body. When he heard the sound of gunshots, a big pit appeared in Isaye's chest.

But to everyone's surprise, Isaac's wound did not shed a drop of blood, but a large number of black beetles shook from it to the ground, and a faint blue light spurted out from the wound, illuminating it instantly. Entire garage.

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