"How much is the bounty on us?" Robert asked bluntly.
"Jin Bin offered five million. The Russian Ross gang offered ten million," Frank replied coldly.
"Total, fifteen million USD for our heads."
Robert clutched his chest dramatically.
"This wave... blood loss!"
Frank frowned. "What blood loss?"
"I'm talking about the commission I accepted!" Robert said with a look of injustice.
"The employer's request was simple—disrupt the drug trade of the Russian Ross gang and provide proof of the location. I thought it was a regular gang deal... but instead, I accidentally offended both the Russian Ross gang and Jin Bin!"
Robert's face was full of grievance.
"The most outrageous thing? The reward for this commission was only a measly hundred thousand dollars! A hundred grand! For stepping into hell!"
Frank stared at him blankly.
Even though they hadn't known each other long, Frank instinctively knew—
Robert and the word honest were about as compatible as oil and water.
Still, he let Robert vent without interruption.
Robert grumbled for a bit longer before falling silent.
Frank finally spoke, his voice calm but sharp:
"Think about it. Anatoly—the brother of the Ross gang leader—was handling a drug deal directly with one of Jin Bin's men. Yet, your mysterious employer knew exactly where and when the deal would take place."
He paused.
"There's a problem with this commission."
Robert blinked.
"Now that you mention it..."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"It really was too easy. Normally, trying to find a gangster in New York is like finding a needle in a haystack. But this time? A direct address served on a silver platter..."
His expression grew serious.
"Feels like someone dug a pit—and I was the unlucky guy who fell into it."
Frank nodded. "You weren't the target, though. You were just the unlucky bait who happened to take the job."
"A setup," Robert muttered.
Frank asked, "Who was your employer?"
"No idea. The information was encrypted—standard procedure. I'll have to go back and dig for clues."
Now that he was thinking clearly, Robert realized how many red flags he'd missed.
The more he listened to Frank, the more convinced he became that this "easy commission" was a deliberate fishing expedition—
And he'd been the worm on the hook.
Robert suddenly remembered something.
He turned to Frank. "Speaking of which... why were you there tonight?"
Frank didn't answer immediately.
Robert's tone sharpened.
"C'mon, that's not fair. I've told you everything—my name, my job, my very soul! We survived a life-and-death shootout together, man. We're brothers in arms now!"
Frank remained silent for a long moment.
Finally, he said flatly:
"Katchi was my target."
Robert blinked. "Katchi?"
"Leader of the drug organization," Frank elaborated.
"He's the one who partnered with the Russian Ross gang for tonight's trade. My mission was to eliminate him. But you killed him first."
Robert scratched his head. "Ohhh. No wonder you were lurking around there too."
It was pure coincidence.
Robert had accepted a random mercenary mission to disrupt a trade.
Frank had come hunting his own prey.
If Robert hadn't appeared, Frank would still have attacked the warehouse himself—and the carnage would have been much the same.
"Guess we're both trouble magnets," Robert said with a wry smile.
Then he extended his hand.
"Name's Robert. Ordinary working-class hero."
Frank looked at the hand for a beat before shaking it briefly.
"Frank."
But Frank's next words wiped the grin off Robert's face.
"You should find a place to hide. Preferably somewhere no one will ever find you."
"Hide?" Robert asked, puzzled.
"Why? I'm not scared. Bring it on!"
Frank gave him a rare, faint smirk.
"Did you forget? We have a fifteen million dollar bounty on our heads. As long as you show your face, the entire criminal underworld of New York will be after you."
Robert touched his face. "Eh... but I'm Asian. Are you sure they'll even recognize me?"
Frank fell silent.
...He had to admit, Robert had a point.
To these gangsters, one unfamiliar Asian face looked much like another.
Unless they had a photo, the chances of someone accurately identifying Robert were slim.
Frank said nothing, but his silence was enough.
Robert grinned. "Exactly. Natural camouflage, my friend. Advantage: me."
"Even so," Frank said seriously, "you should lay low. Don't be stupid."
"What about you?" Robert shot back.
"You're on the bounty list too. You planning to hide?"
Frank's answer was chilling.
"I want them to come."
The look in Frank's eyes made Robert shiver slightly.
This man wasn't hiding.
He was setting the trap.
Anyone who dared hunt Frank Castle was going to meet a brutal end.
Robert sighed.
"Man... you're hardcore."
Before leaving, Robert scribbled a number on a scrap of paper and handed it to Frank.
"If you ever need help, call me. Seriously."
He smiled. "After all, I kinda dragged you into this mess."
Frank didn't respond, but he pocketed the paper anyway.
Robert turned to leave.
Before stepping out the door, he cast a lingering look at the Gatling gun mounted on the wall—
His fingers itched.
Frank noticed and gave him a warning glare.
Reluctantly, Robert waved goodbye to the beautiful weapon, and slipped out into the night.
[End of Chapter 27]
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