Marvel: Ma'am, I'm your husband's boss

Of course, the biggest possibility for the court is to make a big matter small.

If they are willing to return the money, the court will not recognize the five times penalty.

After all, real estate transactions like this are relatively sensitive economic transactions.

It could easily lead to a riot.

But I didn't expect that a real estate company called Pickham would intervene strongly. They attracted investment from Wall Street and began to acquire the entire block.

They offered us a price that was 40 percent higher than ours, and even those who had already spent all our money were willing to pay a high price to get the residents to tear up their contracts, specifically to get us to return the money we gave them.

Forty percent!

That’s almost half the original price in US dollars.

Almost no one can resist such a temptation.”

Strong became calmer as he spoke, and finally found the aura that a lawyer should have.

"Pickham?" Fisk looked at Lester, who nodded, "Russell Pickham, our acting mayor, his name is also Pickham."

"coincide?"

"It's not a coincidence, sir." The wound on Strong's forehead had stopped bleeding, but the glass shards were still embedded in the wound. Every time he moved, the wound hurt so much that his body trembled uncontrollably. "The founder of this real estate company is this acting mayor. His campaign slogan is - a poor councilman will never be a good mayor.

New York is a financial center, and if the mayor is poor, he will be bribed and unable to serve the lower-class residents of New York. Only a wealthy mayor can better serve the citizens of New York..."

"Interesting!" Fisk sneered, "His real estate company wants to acquire the land in Hell's Kitchen so that he can gain both fame and reputation.

We can also use hype to transform the land in Hell's Kitchen into high-rise buildings and commercial centers... It's a win-win situation!"

Looking up at Strong, Fisk's smile was still icy cold: "Lawyer Strong, you disappoint me. I thought you were a reliable lawyer, but I didn't expect you to be an incompetent good-for-nothing. You make me doubt whether you have the ability to continue working for me.

However, I have always held the view that professionals should do professional things.”

Fisk sneered and put out his cigar. He stood up and patted the lawyer on the shoulder. "I like to give people opportunities, so I decided to give you one. However, I will take over this matter now. Put away your pitiful look. I need you to use the legal knowledge you have learned to help me make everything that happens next legal and compliant.

If there is one thing that cannot be done.

I will throw you off the building."

There was a knock on the door.

A gunman lowered his head and said something to Lester who was walking over, and the latter said something to Fisk's ear.

Fisk snapped his fingers lightly.

Two or three gunmen came in from outside, dragging a man in a suit and tie who was struggling.

"Let me go, let me go, this is New York, you can't do this to me, I'm going to sue you until you're bankrupt..."

Strong's face changed drastically.

This person is his assistant.

He is also a partner in his law firm.

Fisk walked over, reached out and took out a thin and long bug from the man's arms.

Then, he pulled off his watch and crushed the watch and the bug together into a ball of scrap metal. Light blue sparks flashed on the surface.

Fisk ripped the man's mouth open and stuffed the piece of steel fragments in.

The man struggled desperately, but how could he resist Fisk's strength? Soon his mouth was cut by the sharp steel fragments, and blood was flowing. As the steel fragments penetrated deeper and deeper, he could no longer use his tongue to accuse Fisk.

But Fisk didn't stop what he was doing. He grabbed his neck and lifted him up in the air. He gradually exerted force on his hands. Fisk turned his head and looked at Strong. "The cost of the wool carpet will be deducted from your commission."

"Mr. Fisk, what?" Strong asked tremblingly.

Fisk had no intention of explaining at all. He grabbed the man's legs with his other hand and began to bend them backwards. Under the huge force, the man's body bent at a speed visible to the naked eye. A constant creaking sound was heard, like a crisp percussion symphony.

The sound continued.

The expression on Strong's face became more and more ferocious, as if he could feel the pain of his partner. Fisk continued to exert force. The man in his hand was still struggling, but gradually his struggle became weaker and weaker. The skin on his face turned liver color and gradually turned purple. The sound of broken bones became less and less.

"Mr. Fisk!" Strong suppressed the fear in his heart and wanted to plead for mercy.

But not yet, wait for him to say the words of plea.

Accompanied by a deafening bang.

The spine was completely broken.

The man in Fisk's hand was like a broken bamboo, or like a clapperboard with only fragile flesh and tendons still connected. Blood spurted out of the man's mouth uncontrollably, and the light in his eyes quickly disappeared.

But Fisk still didn't stop his actions. He aimed the man's head at his buttocks. The sharp bones cut the flesh, and blood, internal organs, and some miscellaneous things like lymph flowed out of the wound and flowed onto the ground, onto the carpet that looked extremely gorgeous.

Strong finally understood what Fisk meant by what he had said before.

It turned out that he was asked to compensate for the wool carpet under his feet.

Fisk continued to push.

Only after he had completely rolled the man into a ball did he stop his movements. He tied a knot with his arms and thighs, threw the body to the ground, and stretched out his fingers.

Lester lit a cigar and handed it to Fisk. Fisk took a puff, wiped the blood on his hand on Strong's expensive-looking handmade suit, and then put the cigar into his mouth: "Lawyer Strong, next time, if you disappoint me again, you'd better find a place to jump off the building.

Otherwise, I will roll you into a ball and throw you off the building.

I will put a basketball hoop on the tree downstairs, and then I will shoot a basketball, letting you pass through the basketball hoop and fall to the ground, just like a mouse falling from a high altitude.

Turned into a pile of rotten meat! "

Strong walked out of the room trembling, holding on to the wall.

Ena Maynard looked at everything in front of her with indifference.

The expression was as if he was watching a vivid drama.

While watching, he took small sips of Coke.

Lester and his gunmen rolled up the bodies and thick wool carpets on the ground into plastic paper, and then began to clean up the splattered blood.

Fisk stood at the window looking out at Hell's Kitchen. Suddenly, he asked Lester and Ena Maynard, "Am I too easy to talk to?"

Lester shrugged and chose not to answer the question.

Instead, choose to answer this question with another answer.

He looked at the bodies that the gunmen carefully put into plastic bags, and poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Boss, this guy must have acted on his own initiative and wanted to record something as a backup... There was no signal source around."

Ena Maynard was silent, too.

Just looked at Fisk calmly.

The reason they didn't answer this question.

Because they knew that as long as they raised this question, Fisk already had the answer in his mind to some extent. What he needed was not the answer from Lester and Ena Maynard. In fact, he was not asking this question to Lester and Ena Maynard, but to Fisk himself.

After a long silence, Fister threw the cigar in his hand out of the window and said, "It seems that I am indeed too kind. I mistakenly believed that sincerity can be exchanged for sincerity.

I gave them money far above the market price, and did not hire gang members to threaten them. Instead, I asked lawyers in suits and ties to negotiate with them, respect their personality, sign a legal contract with them, guarantee their interests, and help them pay taxes!

We can even provide guarantees for home purchases for people who are restricted from trading!

More importantly, after rebuilding Hell's Kitchen, they can return to Hell's Kitchen to work without having to get involved with the gangs.

But they did it for such a small amount of money.

He treated my sincerity as donkey's liver and lungs and trampled on it casually.

It seems that I am indeed too kind?

Since, they chose to reject my sincerity.

Then, I have nothing to say." Fister turned and looked at Lester, his eyes filled with indescribable indifference: "Call everyone back and prepare to work overtime.

Within 24 hours, I will take over all the real estate in Hell's Kitchen, and make sure there are no legal loopholes!"

Chapter 109: Pressing forward step by step!

"Russell, thank you for coming to see me."

George Stacy looked at the man in front of him with a strange expression.

George Stacy and Russell knew each other.

The two had served in the same army.

However, Russell retired relatively early.

I heard that he went to an embassy to work as a diplomatic assistant.

They are the so-called military attachés, who are responsible for helping the ambassador organize intelligence and appear to have a very high status.

In fact, the status is not high.

And because I work in the intelligence field.

The path to promotion is extremely difficult.

Logically speaking, Russell could only do shady things behind the scenes in his life.

But I didn't expect that the other party would be able to come to New York to be the mayor.

George Stacy heard that Russell was going to come to New York to be mayor.

Shamelessly sent him a letter.

Inside were the materials he and Mark Murdoch had compiled at the time.

Including relevant information about Fisk and some evidence that is not very sufficient.

He was just a little unwilling to accept his defeat and wanted to disgust Fisk.

But he didn't expect that Russell would come to see him.

George Stacy was sure.

Russell did not come to see him out of friendship as a classmate.

Because their relationship in the army was not good at that time, and at most they were just nodding acquaintances.

What’s more important is the age difference between the two.

Russell looked at George Stacy.