Chapter 57: Letting Jin Bing Go

Looking at the stocks in his account, Michael was overjoyed. Absolute control—what did that mean? The company was his now; he could do whatever he pleased.

“Oh, right, here’s your payment. Thanks for your hard work.”

Michael tossed a one-dollar coin, which landed right in front of Kingpin.

Kingpin’s face turned crimson with rage at the sight of the coin. He slammed his palm down, and the table shattered instantly.

The others showed little reaction, but Richard, unused to such scenes, was visibly shaken.

Michael sneered at Kingpin, amused by his inability to endure even this.

“Since you helped me so much, I’ll give you a piece of information for free.”

“Richard, do you know how your mother died?”

“How did she die?” Richard was immediately drawn in and looked at Michael.

A flash of terror crossed Kingpin’s eyes, and he shouted angrily, “Shut up.”

Michael let out a cold laugh, meeting Kingpin’s gaze with open provocation. “Richard, the one who killed your mother was your father.”

“Enough!” Kingpin stepped over the debris, ignoring everything else, and charged straight at Michael.

His massive frame caused the floor to sink beneath his feet, and the aura he exuded was like that of a furious brown bear.

But Michael didn’t flinch. Kingpin might look imposing, with top-tier fighting skills among humans, but his actual strength was only at the peak of human capability—no real threat to Michael.

Against absolute speed and power, skill meant little.

Michael simply raised a leg and kicked Kingpin square in the chest. Kingpin felt as if he’d been hit by a train. The force sent him flying backward, nearly smashing through the glass wall behind him.

Standing nearby was Bullseye, famed for never missing a shot.

He’d witnessed Michael’s bizarre abilities and dared not underestimate him, immediately drawing a handful of throwing knives and hurling them at Michael.

The knives wove a web in the air, instantly covering Michael’s vital points as they sped toward him.

Watching their trajectory, Michael realized they were targeting his brow, heart, lungs, pancreas, liver—each a lethal spot. Such precise throws were nothing short of miraculous.

Combined with the bullseye symbol on his forehead, this could only be Bullseye.

Michael casually drew a portal, redirecting the knives toward Kingpin.

Kingpin barely had time to react before the knives struck him, eliciting a pained groan.

Michael looked at Kingpin in surprise—the knives hadn’t penetrated deeply; Kingpin’s muscles acted like a bulletproof vest. Even Michael’s kick hadn’t seriously injured him.

“Didn’t you say you never miss?” Kingpin shot a furious glare at Bullseye.

Bullseye shivered; to him, Kingpin was a monster, which was why he obeyed him.

He tried to explain, but Michael instantly appeared before him and kicked him out the window.

Bullseye crashed through the glass and plummeted from the high-rise, ending as nothing more than a bloody smear.

Michael turned to Kingpin, smiling. “How much are you willing to pay for your son’s life—and your own?”

Kingpin glanced at Richard, who was still in shock from the revelation about his mother, sitting dazed and speechless on the sofa.

The man in the clown mask before him was terrifyingly powerful.

“Are you a mutant?”

“No.”

“A billion. Will that suffice?”

Michael nodded his agreement.

“Remember, from now on, you stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours. Otherwise, both you and your son will die.”

Satisfied, Michael left. Kingpin approached Richard, intending to speak, but Richard slapped his hand away.

Watching his son run out, Kingpin didn’t pursue him. His face grew darker, lost in troubled thoughts.

Michael paused in a nearby alley and looked back.

“Come out,” he said.

Daredevil emerged from the shadows. “You could have killed Kingpin. Why didn’t you?”

He could sense that Michael had considered it.

Michael smiled. “Because I pity Richard. He’s already lost his mother—I’m afraid losing his father would break him.”

Daredevil recalled Michael’s earlier words; this man truly relished his own twisted sense of humor.

“You wanted to see father and son become enemies.”

“Not entirely. Mainly, you’re too weak. You can’t establish a new order here, so Kingpin survives by default. It’s you who saved him.”

Michael looked at Daredevil with disappointment. In his struggle with Kingpin, Daredevil had come to believe that it was better for the underworld to obey Kingpin’s rules than to descend into chaos.

But he’d never considered: why should the underworld abide by Kingpin’s order? Why not Daredevil’s rules—or some more stable system?

Michael had no intention of meddling in the criminal underworld or restoring order here, so he let things remain as they were. At least it was better than nothing.

Perhaps he couldn’t make things better, but he certainly didn’t want to make them worse because of his own actions.

“Goodbye, Daredevil. If you ever decide to take responsibility for this place and create a new order, give me a call—I’ll help you deal with Kingpin.”

With that, Michael tossed him a business card and then vanished, taking to the air while invisible.

But Daredevil didn’t rely on sight, so Michael couldn’t fool him. Still, he had no reason to stop him.

Daredevil pondered Michael’s words and found them not without merit.

To change this place, one needed to establish new rules. Relying on Kingpin to maintain the status quo was like chemotherapy for a cancer patient—merely delaying the inevitable.

He just didn’t yet know how to bring about such change, and for the moment, he felt lost.

Kingpin no longer dared to cross Michael. All his secrets had been exposed, and before Michael, he felt utterly stripped bare.

Michael had, in Kingpin’s eyes, become an increasingly mysterious figure.

For Michael, the day’s string of events was truly a blessing in disguise.

On his way home, he bought many gifts for Martha and Susie to calm their nerves.

Returning amid their anxious gazes, Michael entered with his arms full of shopping bags.

“Jack, Martha, don’t worry anymore. I’ve taken care of everything.”

Jack was surprised. “How did you do it? Did Kingpin die?”

“I used his son to threaten him and extorted a billion dollars in the process.”

Jack’s heart sank at Michael’s answer. “Kingpin isn’t dead?” he asked, horrified.

“That’s right. I was going to finish him off, but unfortunately, someone dropped the ball,” Michael sighed.

Daredevil clearly knew Kingpin’s true identity but lacked the courage to kill him. Instead, he just sabotated Kingpin’s plans and punished street thugs—Michael really couldn’t fathom his thinking.

Jack added, “You didn’t kill Kingpin, Michael. Don’t you realize? Open attacks are easy to avoid, but hidden ones are deadly.”

Michael was surprised. “Didn’t expect you to quote proverbs. Not bad.”

“Relax,” he reassured them. “He won’t dare trouble us again. He has his own weaknesses now.”