Time flew. A month and a half went by in the blink of an eye.

In that time, the landscape of New York’s underworld had changed dramatically. The major gangs had been consolidated. Jason had forcibly erased their old grudges and rivalries. The constant infighting was gone, replaced by a unified body where all would rise or fall together. Consolidated supply lines, consolidated channels, consolidated personnel. With all their resources pooled and each gang playing to its strengths, the alliance’s operational efficiency skyrocketed. Cash flow was smoother, and overall revenue saw a significant increase.

For the average citizen, the formation of the gang alliance was actually a good thing.

Jason’s desire for control was absolute. He, and he alone, would be the one to carve up the New York pie.

Since the alliance’s founding, the six gangs had first cleaned houses, purging anyone unsuitable for the business and recruiting fresh blood to bolster their ranks. After this, the New York underworld officially entered an era of licensed operation. Anyone caught operating without the alliance’s credentials either received a death threat or ended up in a convenient car accident. They were all scared straight. The small-time hustlers and petty gangs of thirty to fifty men were all swept away by Jason’s iron fist. Even the street corner delinquents hiding switchblades to mug passersby vanished completely with the establishment of the alliance.

………

Hell’s Kitchen, Manhattan, New York.

Jason was at the biker gang’s headquarters, inspecting their monthly progress.

The new biker boss and Buffalo Billy, the man in charge of overseeing him, stood before the desk, giving Jason their report.

When they finished, Jason nodded. “Good work. You can go.”

The new boss gave a slight bow and exited the office.

Once the door was closed, Billy leaned in. “Boss, I’ve found a promising kid in the gang. He’s loyal, he can fight, and he’s young. If we train him right, we could have him replace the current boss in a few years.”

“The current boss,” Of course, referred to the man who had just left.

That was right. Jason had never intended to keep the old guard around for long. They were all slippery old dogs, hard to control. That’s why he was recruiting new blood and having his overseers find the most promising candidates to train and promote.

Still, he was relatively satisfied with the new biker boss. After his predecessor had been punched to death by Jason, the new boss had shown no hatred, only immense gratitude for the promotion and the trust placed in him. More impressively, he hadn’t touched a cent of the one billion dollars in personal funds the former boss had amassed over the years. He’d handed every last penny of it over to Jason.

That billion dollars had been crucial. It had allowed Jason to purchase superpowers for his final two associates, shoring up his team’s last weakness.

This act had impressed Jason, so as long as the new boss didn’t make any major mistakes or cross any lines, Jason had no plans to replace him.

Billy seemed extremely pleased with his chosen candidate and continued to sing his praises. “Boss, the kid’s here at headquarters. You should go take a look.”

Jason glanced at his watch and waved him off. “No time. I’ve only hit two branches this morning. Still have four to go.”

With that, he pulled his mask back on and walked to the entrance of the headquarters. A limited-edition Lamborghini was parked across the street—another gift from the new boss.

Billy watched the Lamborghini speed away, then sighed in resignation and went back inside.

He walked to the headquarters’ boxing gym. Inside, a handsome, short-haired blond man in his early thirties was sparring with ten burly men.

Billy found a chair, pulled out a pocket watch, and prepared to time him. Soon, the room was filled with the thudding sound of fists on flesh.

Within a minute, all ten big men were on the ground.

“Fifty-four point five-two seconds!”

Billy called out the time and walked over with a grin. “Clint, you’re getting better.”

The man, Clint, stepped out of the ring, panting. “I’m still a long way off from the boss.”

Billy’s expression fell. “Clint, I brought you up with the boss again today,” He said, disappointed. “I told him you’re a big admirer of his, that you’re loyal and brave, and that you’re hoping he’ll take notice. But alas…”

Clint wiped the sweat from his cheek, unconcerned. “It’s fine. It just means I’m not good enough yet. One day, I’ll make the boss remember my name.”

Billy was touched and clapped Clint firmly on the shoulder. At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a little resentful toward Jason. How could he ignore such an outstanding talent?

Billy sighed. “Forget about it. Clock out early today. Let’s go get a drink.”

Clint looked at the sun outside and chuckled. “Billy, it’s still the afternoon.”

Billy licked his dry lips. “It’s always a good time for a drink.”

Clint nodded. “Alright. Let me get changed.”

In the locker room. Clint walked inside and saw that it was empty.

The warm, sunny smile on his face instantly vanished, replaced by a cold, placid mask.

“Looks like getting close to Jason directly is a dead end,” He muttered. “Time for plan B: crack open Billy and find out where Jason is.”

Clint—no, S.H.I.E.L.D. Level 7 Agent Clinton Francis Barton—rubbed the stubble on his chin and whispered to himself.

………

After a quick shower and a change into a T-shirt, Clint went to the entrance, where Billy was already waiting in his car.

“Drinking on the clock… we probably shouldn’t go too far,” Clint suggested as he got in. “I know a decent little bar nearby.”

“Alright, you lead the way,” Billy said, starting the car.

Five minutes later, they pulled up to a small bar in Hell’s Kitchen.

Whether it was the time of day or the place was just unpopular, the bar’s dozen or so tables were empty, save for a plain-looking female bartender standing behind the counter.

The two sat down at the bar. Billy slapped a stack of twenties on the counter. “Bloody Mary. Clint, what do you want?”

Clint hesitated for a moment. “Scotch.”

The bartender looked slightly surprised and shot Clint a subtle glance.

Billy laughed. “Hey, you have the same taste as the boss.”

The bartender’s expression returned to normal as she smiled. “Coming right up.”

With that, she skillfully began mixing drinks.

But behind the counter, hidden from their view, she pulled a small vial from her pocket and dripped its contents into the Bloody Mary.

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