Jessica's playful smirk widened slightly: "Very well. At least you have some guts. But let me make one thing clear: don't drag me down later, and don't expect me to protect you. You'd best learn how to 'hedge risks' yourself."
Jessica walked out without looking back, her voice drifting from the doorway, "Let's go, rookie insurance salesman. I'll show you how much 'liability insurance' the 'third parties' in Hell's Kitchen need."
The two left the moldy, dilapidated office building and plunged into the afternoon streets of Hell's Kitchen.
Afternoon Hell's Kitchen was shrouded in an indescribable gloom, the air thick with a peculiar scent of gasoline, rotting food, cheap alcohol, and a faint, lingering hint of blood.
Graffiti sprawled menacingly on the streets. A few tattooed men leaned against a blackened wall, their eyes scrutinizing every passerby with ill intent, including William, who was closely following Jessica, trying his best not to look like a startled quail.
"Where... where are we going?"
William unconsciously moved closer to Jessica, trying to use her powerful aura to ward off the hostile gazes around them.
"Where are we going?"
"42nd Street, a place called 'Maurice's Pawn Shop'."
Jessica pulled out her phone. The screen showed a somewhat blurry photo of an old woman and a text message. "There's an old lady named Irene who said the owner there fraudulently took her wedding ring, and she wants me to get it back for her. That ring is very important to her; it's the only memento her husband left behind."
Her tone was calm, but William could detect a subtle seriousness.
William's taut nerves felt a slight tug, and he let out an almost imperceptible sigh.
It sounded like a relatively normal civil dispute.
It shouldn't... be too dangerous, right?
At least not the kind of situation that required superpowered beings to fight for three hundred rounds.
However, facts proved he was still too naive, or rather, Hell's Kitchen's "normal" was not the same as his understanding of "normal" at all.
When the dilapidated sign reading "Maurice's Pawn Shop" came into view, William's heart had only half relaxed before the sight before him sent it back into his throat.
Things were clearly far more complicated than a "civil dispute."
The pawn shop's facade was small, its display window filled with various items of unknown origin, and the glass was covered in a thick layer of dust.
Pushing open the door, a mixed scent of mold, tobacco, and cheap disinfectant assailed them.
The pawn shop owner was an absolutely overweight man named Maurice, with several thick gold chains around his neck and a face full of flesh.
His small eyes gleamed with cunning and ferocity.
His arms were covered in various ferocious tattoos, indicating he was no easy target.
Even worse, besides Maurice, there were three burly men standing in the shop, wearing tight vests that revealed their bulging muscles and even more tattoos.
Each of them stared at them with hostile eyes, their waists bulging, clearly concealing "tools."
"Jones, it's you again."
The fat owner, Maurice, saw Jessica, and his face immediately darkened, looking as ugly as if he had swallowed a fly.
"I told you, that ring was a legitimate transaction, all paperwork complete. That old woman needed money urgently and pawned it willingly!"
"Willingly?" Jessica sneered, her voice not loud, yet it dropped the temperature of the entire pawn shop by several degrees. "An antique sapphire ring worth at least thirty thousand U.S. dollars, and you gave her three hundred? Maurice, you call that willingly? When did the prices in Hell's Kitchen depreciate to this extent?"
"The market has risks, so the acquisition price naturally needs to be conservative. This is the rule, fair to all." The fat owner spread his hands, adopting an attitude of a dead pig not fearing boiling Water. "Besides, who knows how much her broken ring is really worth? What if it's fake?"
William stood half a step behind Jessica, trying to look like a professional "risk consultant assistant" rather than a coward ready to bolt at any moment.
He could clearly feel the growing tension in the air, and fine beads of sweat began to form on his forehead.
"Listen, Maurice."
Jessica took a step forward. The three muscular men immediately tensed, their eyes flashing with malice, but she seemed not to notice them, ignoring them completely, her voice as cold as the winter wind of Hell's Kitchen: "Give the ring back to Irene, and I'll return your three hundred. This matter will be over. Otherwise..."
"Otherwise what, you bitch?" One of the big men, with a mohawk and a scar on his face, suddenly stepped forward, blocking Jessica's path. He was more than a head taller than Jessica, towering over her like an iron tower.
He grinned menacingly, his bloodshot eyes scanning Jessica up and down, then he contemptuously glanced at William behind her. "You got lucky last time and escaped. Now you dare to bring a soft-skinned pretty boy back to die? Do you really think Maurice's Pawn Shop is a place where you can run wild? Believe it or not, I'll make you leave here horizontally right now!"
He even reached out a calloused, dirty hand, seemingly intending to shove Jessica's shoulder.
Jessica tilted her head, a dangerously sharp curve forming on her lips. William had seen that smile before; it usually meant someone was about to have a very bad day.
"I'll say it again,"
Her voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable penetrating power, "Take out what doesn't belong to you."
"Damn it! You're asking for it!"
"Look closely, kid! This is the 'accident' you need to insure—and its usual solution!"
Before she finished speaking, she had already moved close to a heavy solid wood shelf piled with miscellaneous items. Her right hand shot out like lightning, fingers like claws, and she exerted force fiercely!
"Crack—bang!"
With a teeth-grinding crash, the solid wood pillar, at least as thick as an adult's arm, was snapped off by her with a single hand!
The broken wood splinters were jagged and menacing, and the items on the shelf clattered to the floor, shattered glass and metal parts flying everywhere.
The entire pawn shop seemed to have been muted; even breathing sounds disappeared, leaving only the rustling of debris.
The mohawked man's sneer froze into terror.
The other two big men also looked horrified, instinctively taking half a step back, their hands gripping the "tools" at their waists trembling slightly.
The fat owner Maurice's fleshy face twitched violently several times, and his small eyes gleamed with disbelief.
"I just wanted to reason with you all."
Jessica casually threw the broken shelf pillar to the ground. The heavy wood hit the floor with a dull thud, like a hammer striking everyone's heart. "Now, where's the ring?" Her gaze swept over the three men, carrying an undeniable oppressive force.
After the initial shock, a sinister look suddenly flashed across the fat owner Maurice's face.
He suddenly ducked down and fiercely pressed a hidden button under the counter.
"Woo—woo—woo—!"
A piercing alarm suddenly blared, sharp enough to almost burst eardrums!
At the same time, the shop's only exit, the old rolling shutter door, came down with a loud clang, accompanied by the grating sound of metal friction, swiftly and decisively, completely sealing off the exit!
Immediately after, equally heavy metal panels descended on the inside of the display window.
"You bitch! Do you think I've run a shop in Hell's Kitchen for so many years without some self-defense?"
Maurice straightened up from behind the counter, a crazed and ferocious smile on his face. "The walls and doors here are specially made of thickened steel plates, inlaid with alloy! Even a monster with great strength like you won't be able to easily break through! Today, neither of you will leave here alive!"
William felt like he was suffocating, a chill running from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.
What was happening?
He just wanted to sell insurance; how did he end up trapped in a crooked shop?