The atmosphere was suddenly quiet, almost frozen in place.
Even in his most embarrassing moments, Kingpin had never experienced a day like this. In just two short days, he had lost friends and partners, his trusted subordinates were killed, and now someone had come directly to confront him.
His underlings were likely either dead or had fled. For the first time in his life, Kingpin considered calling the police!
He stared at the man in front of him: In the end, he could only rely on himself.
The blood from the wound on his forehead blurred one of his eyes, but Kingpin didn't even dare to wipe it away.
Because this enemy was unlike any he had ever faced before.
Stronger, more ruthless, bound by no rules or morals. This opponent had no limits and wouldn't hesitate to do anything.
If Kingpin tried to wipe the blood from his eyes and that guy suddenly pulled out a gun and fired, it wouldn't be surprising.
Kingpin fully believed his opponent would absolutely pretend to have an empty clip just to trick him!
This was the perfect enemy, the kind you'd only find in nightmares.
He clenched his left fist weakly, the trembling of his hand and the weakness in his arm reminded him that his upper arm injury was too severe, which had greatly reduced his combat effectiveness.
The continuous bleeding was like a countdown to his life. If this dragged on any longer, he would die from blood loss.
And…
Kingpin knew in his heart that as he grew weaker from the blood loss, that guy wouldn't just stand idly by.
He would strike—one blow, one kill!
Escape?
Mobility issues aside, that guy could fly!
So, there was only one answer left.
A quick, decisive fight!
A fight to the death!
If he fought desperately, there might be a chance. If he only tried to run, death was certain!
"I'm guessing you're not planning to hand me over to the law?" Kingpin asked, his tone calm and flat, as if stating a fact.
It was unclear whether he was merely confirming a known fact or testing the waters.
Leon burst out laughing, "Oh, come on, big guy! That's such a perfectly dumb question, I can't tell if you're serious or just messing with me!"
Bang!
Leon fired off the last bullet in his magazine, but Kingpin wasn't fooled—one bullet wasn't going to change anything.
"Someone like you doesn't deserve an easy death! It wouldn't be fair to people like me."
"You've killed plenty of people too. Don't think you're so clean," Kingpin retorted.
But Leon wasn't ashamed, he was proud. "Oh, don't say that! I didn't kill that many bad guys! There's still plenty left who are just crippled, lying in hospital beds, with a lot of good days ahead of them!"
With that, Leon clapped his hands in excitement, "How about I cripple you too? I'll put you in a glass jar and keep you! I'll even sell tickets and give you 5% of the profits!"
Kingpin responded by throwing a rock.
Leon wasn't angry, still speaking in a friendly tone, "I'm serious about cooperating with you! Don't be ungrateful. If you break both your hands right now, I might even waive your magic show fee!"
Holstering both guns, Leon crossed his arms and declared, "All you did was stick your head out, but I have to cover the cost of the glass jar!"
Kingpin, enraged, grabbed a broken table leg and sneered, "Sorry, but I have no intention of putting you in a jar!"
Leon stepped back two paces. "Wait a minute! What happened to fighting bare-handed? You're using a weapon now! Ref! Coach! I protest! He's cheating!"
Whether Leon was bluffing or just spouting his usual nonsense, Kingpin didn't respond. Gripping the makeshift club, he charged forward.
Whoosh!
The heavy club swept over Leon's head, the air pressure nearly knocking his hat off.
"Ugh!"
Kingpin grunted.
Staggering back, Kingpin looked down at his chest—a long slash had appeared.
Leon, casually holding a sword, shrugged, "You were the one who used a weapon first. As a chef, it's only reasonable that I carry a 1.6-meter fish-slaying knife with me!"
There was no need for more words. Talking was pointless.
Kingpin knew there was no escaping death today.
Then he would take someone down with him!
His massive body charged forward again, recklessly swinging the table leg, creating a whirlwind of motion, fierce and unstoppable!
After a few more strikes, Leon adjusted his hat, completely unscathed, while Kingpin was left holding only a splintered stump of wood.
There was no helping it—Leon's sword was just that sharp.
With a flourish of his sword, Leon struck a pose that somehow looked stylish.
"My sword is famous for its speed!"
Kingpin remained silent, grabbing a chair and hurling it at Leon. While Leon sliced through the chair, Kingpin rushed in, colliding with Leon and sending him flying into the wall!
In a split second, the tables had turned!
Kingpin clutched his right elbow. Leon's earlier strike had hit his joint perfectly, and now his right arm wasn't working properly.
It might never work again.
But it was worth it!
Seeing Leon sprawled against the wall, sliding down in a comical fashion, Kingpin breathed a sigh of relief. He had gambled, and he had won.
Trading injury for life—worth it!
"Hah… hah…" Kingpin's chest wound was deep, and the exertion had reopened it, causing him to cough violently.
Then, he began to laugh uncontrollably.
Picking up a jagged piece of wood, Kingpin prepared to drive it into Leon's heart!
Staggering over to Leon's side, Kingpin didn't get too close. He knew his charge was powerful enough to break down a wall, but this guy had survived bullets before.
After standing there for about twenty seconds, Kingpin finally relaxed.
He crouched down, trembling, and reached out to remove Leon's mask. What he wanted most now was to see the face beneath it!
"Surprise, motherf**ker!"
Leon, sporting a clown face, flashed Kingpin a toothy grin.
As Kingpin scrambled away, Leon yawned, picked up the discarded mask, and put it back on.
"Next time, don't take so long. I almost fell asleep waiting!"
"I wouldn't fear the darkness if I had never seen the light."
Kingpin now fully understood the meaning of that phrase.
"You… you maniac…"
Leon was offended. "Hey, don't make stuff up! I'm not bald! This is a real clown face! Do you know how long it took me to put on this makeup for your surprise?"
With a familiar gentlemanly bow, Leon added, "You're welcome!"
The double blow to his body and soul left Kingpin too defeated to rise again. His arms went limp, and he collapsed to the ground.
"I never thought I'd… ugh…"
With a flick of the blade, Leon watched as Kingpin, still wide-eyed in shock, tried to press his hands against the gash in his throat.
It was futile.
Kingpin's white shirt was now a red shirt.
After wiping the blood off his sword, Leon glanced at Kingpin, who was now on the brink of death, and rubbed his shoulder. No denying it—Kingpin's charge had hurt far worse than getting shot.
"By the way, back home we have a saying: The villain dies from talking too much!"
After a brief pause, Leon stabbed him twice more, wiped the sword again, and said regretfully, "If you hadn't babbled, you might've lived a little longer."
As Kingpin's breathing and heartbeat stopped, Leon flew out the window.
The era of the dark kingpin had ended, his rise cut short!
(End of Chapter)