Marvel: Sign-In System – Starting with the Glint-Glint Fruit

A red gleam flashed through Matthew's eyes.

In an instant, his terrifying Observation Haki, combined with the electromagnetic force he had developed from the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, swept across the whole of Manhattan.

Streams of information and countless scenes flashed wildly before his eyes before finally locking onto a single image: a powerfully built man with a bare, heavily muscled upper body.

The man had already lost consciousness. His body was covered in wounds and bullet holes.

"Found you. Looks like you need a little help, big guy."

Matthew withdrew his Observation Haki and lightly moved his fingers.

The air rippled faintly.

A bright golden dandelion appeared and vanished in a flash.

Matthew did not want this outlaw gunslinger Punisher to die just like that. Although the man's vitality was as stubborn as a cockroach's, Matthew still gave him an extra layer of insurance.

While Matthew was doing his little trick, Gwen brought Carrie over with a tray full of desserts and fruit juice. She placed the tray on the table, then sat down across from Matthew.

"Try this, Matthew. This is banana pudding, and this is a red velvet cupcake. It has thick cream, banana, and wafer cookies inside."

"This one is mine. It's a big walnut chocolate cookie, crispy on the outside and molten inside."

"And this one, chocolate babka roll and pecan pie."

Gwen and Carrie chattered as they introduced the desserts to Matthew, placing them in front of him. Their two different but delicate little faces were full of expectation.

Matthew pulled his thoughts back and saw the expectant looks on their faces. He immediately understood what they wanted.

He picked up a spoon and pretended to examine the desserts, waving it back and forth before finally scooping up a bite from each one. Then he put on an exaggerated, thoughtful expression as he tasted them, shaking his head slightly, which made Gwen and Carrie giggle behind their hands.

In the end, Matthew gave a very fair evaluation.

"The banana pudding and the big chocolate cookie are good. The others are a little too sweet."

Matthew was very scheming. He praised the desserts the two girls had chosen themselves and sharply criticized the rest for being far too cloying.

That was just how Americans were.

Whether it was regular food or desserts, everything was loaded with sugar. It was all because of the food manufacturers.

Because of corn.

There was no need to go into detail about the corn, but under the influence of these capitalists, the sugar content in all kinds of foods had been deliberately raised. Many foods didn't taste like corn at all, yet their ingredients were corn-based. This caused a lot of food to contain extremely high levels of sugar.

People's tolerance for sweetness kept increasing. In the end, many Americans felt that even plain water had no flavor and would specifically add sweeteners to it.

Otherwise, why else were Americans' figures getting bigger and bigger these days? There was a reason for it.

Matthew couldn't be bothered to change any of these things. No matter what he ate now, it wouldn't affect him anyway.

"Hehe."

Gwen and Carrie still had no idea that Matthew had just given a harsh review of America's unscrupulous capitalists. They were very happy that the desserts they picked had received Matthew's praise.

So they happily began to taste them.

This day was ordinary, yet not ordinary.

Matthew, Gwen, and Carrie all enjoyed this simple and happy day.

But some people were not happy at all.

In fact, they were furious.

Finn Cooley, the true leader of the Irish mafia, was a former Northern Irish IRA terrorist. He was cruel by nature and skilled in torture.

As the boss of a gang, he had no small amount of power. He controlled the life and death of countless people.

But he had never imagined that his son would die.

His most beloved son.

His only son.

He had died in that damned underground club, killed by the Punisher.

Finn wore a dark long-sleeved shirt with the buttons open, a tight black undershirt beneath it, and dark cargo pants on his lower body.

He was already in his forties, but his build was extremely tall and powerful. Because of years of fighting and gang bloodshed, his muscles were solid, his shoulders and neck thick.

His face was rough and vicious, enough to make people shrink back at a glance.

He stood inside a bar. There were no other customers, and the orange-yellow light made the place feel somewhat cold and gloomy.

Aside from Finn, standing in front of him were his capable subordinates, several core members of the gang, his most trusted enforcer Rory, his nephew Peter Cooley, Maginty, and Brenda, the only female leader.

"Kelly is dead."

Finn's face was expressionless. He took a sip from a thick-bottomed glass filled with whiskey, his voice without the slightest trace of emotion, as if the one who had died was only a stranger.

But everyone present knew very well the rage and killing intent raging inside Finn.

So no one spoke.

Because none of them wanted to provoke this unpredictable boss.

"He died in the massacre at the underground club. He died in the damned Punisher's hands." Finn's voice grew louder with each word until he was practically shouting.

The outburst made everyone's ears ring.

"Uncle, I'll take people and catch that guy. We found the only survivor from that night. From him, we learned that the Punisher is already wounded."

In the end, it was Finn's nephew, Peter, who spoke.

His voice was fierce.

But Finn interrupted him.

"No. I'll lead the team myself. I'll capture him alive with my own hands. I'll tear him apart piece by piece. I'll make him wish he were dead."

"Send everyone out. Drag the Punisher out of whatever hole he's hiding in and report back to me."

"Yes."

Without hesitation, everyone immediately turned and left.

With their departure, it meant that Hell's Kitchen was about to stir up a new storm.

Finn remained standing in place. He took out his phone and dialed a number.

Very soon, the call connected, and a deep, heavy voice came from the other end.

"Finn."

"Kingpin, my son is dead."

"My condolences."

"You know what I'm going to say," Finn said coldly.

In Hell's Kitchen, the Irish mafia was not weak, but compared with Kingpin, there was still a huge gap. He knew very well that Kingpin was the true ruler of Hell's Kitchen.

Finn had always held considerable fear toward Kingpin.

Fortunately, Kingpin did not seem to care much about the other gangs in Hell's Kitchen. As long as no one provoked him, Kingpin treated them as if they did not exist. The two sides could be considered to have kept out of each other's way.

But things were different now.

His son was dead. Going after the Punisher would definitely attract the attention of the other gangs. Finn didn't care about them, but he still needed to inform Kingpin.

"That is your business. If you can find that man and kill him, I will be very happy as well."

"However, you'd better be smart about it. If you end up provoking someone even I can't afford to offend, I will personally crush your bones and apologize to them myself."

Just as Finn had expected, Kingpin didn't care either way. He was even pleased to see Finn go after the Punisher.

Just as Finn had thought, Kingpin did not care about anything. He was even quite happy to see Finn kill the Punisher.

But that last sentence made Finn's heart tremble.

People even Kingpin couldn't afford to offend?

What did that mean?