Marvel: I'm Wizard King

Chapter 12: Hell's Kitchen and the Blind Man

Hell's Kitchen.

The most chaotic and dangerous place in all of New York.

This is the slum, where poverty means wealth.

Illegal industries pass through here, making it a Heaven for all sorts of dangerous villains.

At night, Hell's Kitchen is abandoned by order, and the vast gap between rich and poor has given rise to new rules here.

When the last ray of sunlight falls, the rules of the game here change.

Those who rule here are no longer righteous police officers, but a group of underworld figures who have their own rules of the game.

More than 90% of the police officers who can be found here at night are likely corrupt.

They are lawless, with addicts and red-light districts operating in every street and alley.

If you walk into those dark corners, you can see illicit transactions.

On the streets, you see robbers snatching money, and pimps and women standing under the streetlights.

The wealth created by chaos means the illegal assets here are enough for the government to turn a blind eye.

Although there are some 'righteous crusaders' who frequent this place, hoping to improve it through their own efforts.

But clearly, Rome wasn't built in a day.

Order is a luxury, and the delicate balance does not want to be broken.

The pickup truck drove in, its flashing lights mirroring Ferdinand's mood at that moment.

As a thug who occasionally threw his weight around by intimidating people on the street, Ferdinand was a man with one foot in the underworld.

But only one foot.

Outside, he could scare children, but in Hell's Kitchen, the biggest chaotic zone in all of New York, he was a nobody.

Large beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, his body trembled, and he had to chew his words several times in his mouth before he could utter them.

"We-we're here." He said to the person in the back seat, with an unpleasant smile on his face.

Rubbing a pencil in his hand, John looked out the window.

"This place is a little better than I imagined."

If New Yorkers heard this, they would simply say he was dreaming.

There is no place in this world worse than Hell's Kitchen.

He got out of the car.

As John's shoes touched the pavement, the pickup truck behind him was eager to start.

"Oh, right, wait for me here, Ferdinand."

His casual remark made Ferdinand's foot stop pressing the accelerator.

Ferdinand's eyes widened, his face full of horror.

He had never said his name, how did that person know?

John paid no mind to his shock and stepped towards this city within New York, Hell's Kitchen.

Although it was within Manhattan, the existence of Hell's Kitchen was like a doodle added by a low-level painter.

John held an address in his hand and sidestepped the guys who were either drunk or high.

At the entrance of the bar, two muscular bald men in tight clothes stood at the door with unfriendly expressions.

"Hell's Angels Bar?" John put away the paper, nodded, and said, "This is the place."

This was a bar located in Hell's Kitchen, with a flashing neon sign that combined the wings of devils and angels.

Blasting restless music, it reached John's ears even through layers of corridors.

Hell's Angels Bar is Simon's base and also the most famous bar in Hell's Kitchen.

Various transactions take place here, and in this illicit area, drunken women become prey for men.

John was about to go in.

"This is a private club." Two large hands blocked his path.

The burly white security guard with a fierce face glared at John.

John rubbed his chin and asked strangely, "How come I see other people going in?"

The security guard said, "They have the euphoria imprint."

The euphoria imprint?

John looked at the woman walking in next to him. The woman lifted her clothes, and on her ribs, there was a devil's eye with wings.

That was the euphoria imprint.

To enter Hell's Angels Bar, you must have the euphoria imprint; otherwise, you cannot enter.

John's mind stirred, and he covered his left arm with his right hand.

He smiled slightly and said, "Actually, I have one too…"

"You're here?"

A sentence interrupted John's next words.

The security guard looked towards the sound. A man wearing red sunglasses and a suit, holding a white cane, came up to John as if he could see.

"Sorry, I think he's in the wrong place, he's my friend."

When the burly security guard saw the blind man, the expression on his face became less unfriendly.

"Matt, you should hear what your young friend is saying." The security guard said, crossing his arms in dissatisfaction, "He wants to go to the euphoria banquet."

"I think he just heard stories about this place from adults," Matt came up to John, put his hand on his shoulder, and smiled, "Young people are always curious and like to show off."

John looked bewildered, who are you?

"For your sake, Matt," the burly security guard muttered, "you got some money back for my sister from that jerk last time."

"Thanks, Jack."

Matt pressed down hard on John's hand. With his extraordinary physical strength, he should have been able to pull someone away easily.

But to his surprise, he couldn't move this person.

"Come with me." He whispered in John's ear.

John was originally going to go straight in, but hearing him say that and not feeling any malice, he went along and left with Matt.

The two walked through Hell's Kitchen.

It was strange; Matt was clearly blind, yet he acted as if he could see, accurately dodging the scattered wine bottles.

The two walked along and came to a law office.

To call it a law office wasn't entirely accurate either.

Because this place was far from having the neatness and spaciousness that social elites should have.

Inside, a fat man was scratching his head. Seeing Matt return, his face lit up with joy, and after seeing John, the fat man quickly got up.

"You can't bring lost sheep here every time." The fat man said, but in his hand, he was making a cup of coffee for John, "Want milk?"

"Thank you, no."

"Okay, hope you don't find it too bitter…"

Before the fat man finished speaking, he saw John take the coffee and start drinking it.

His expression was stunned, "That's freshly boiled water."

"I think the temperature is just right." John shrugged, put down the cup, and looked around with interest, "So… you're a lawyer?"

He asked Matt, who had brought him over, "I hope you're not trying to extort money from me."

"I'd really like to do that," the fat man complained, "We only received one lawyer's fee this month. Oh, right, Mr. Li sent some flounder, you can try it tonight."

The fat man looked very anxious. As lawyers who graduated from law school, they basically never received a decent, generous fee in this place.

It made him want to volunteer his services and offer defense to those villains.

Matt just smiled, "Although Mr. Li is struggling financially, he is a good person."

"What about him? Is he a good person too?" the fat man asked anxiously.

John was called out. He just picked up the cup, took another sip of coffee, and said innocently, "I'm also curious why you brought me here."

The fat man asked Matt for an explanation. Matt said, "He said he has the euphoria imprint, Foggy."

Foggy?

When John heard this name, a Minister of Magic whom he had brought down popped into his mind.

As soon as the man named Foggy heard this, he quickly took two steps back.

"I didn't know you had such a fetish, Matt."

From his reaction, it seemed the euphoria imprint was something people avoided like the plague.

Matt was a bit helpless at his friend's panicked reaction, "Of course not, this person just wanted to sneak in, he doesn't even know what the euphoria imprint is for."

Foggy looked at John's young face, knowing he had overreacted, and agreed, "That's definitely the most idiotic excuse I've ever heard."

Matt looked at John, "Finish this cup of coffee, get in a taxi, and leave this place. I know a driver."

"What is the euphoria imprint?" John was confused now. What were these two playing at?

"The euphoria imprint, also called a slave license," Foggy explained, "is something Simon, the Boss of Hell's Paradise Bar, came up with."

"Having this mark means you can be taken advantage of by anyone."

"Used to attract customers to his bar."

Foggy smacked his lips and said, "It's understandable that the women who need to survive have this mark. You can imagine, last time I saw someone going at it right in the alley near the bar, they even saved the room fee."

John's face darkened. So this damn thing was used like this.

The thought that he almost replicated one himself sent chills down his spine.

"How are you sure he doesn't have one?" Foggy asked Matt, "I mean, you can't see."

"Scent." Matt tapped his nose and smiled, "Few of those guys are this clean."

"Like a newborn baby, you must have been well protected, uh… what's your name?" Remembering he didn't know John's name, Matt asked.

"Just call me John," John said helplessly, covering his face, "You really didn't need to describe my scent."

The Wizard King's lifelong reputation was almost ruined by the euphoria imprint. John's desire to dig into Simon's thoughts grew stronger.

...

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