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

“What refrigerated truck, didn’t you see it?

That's the fresh food company's car.

There must be too many corpses and they can't fit them all in.

So the police department first borrowed a refrigerated truck from the fresh food company. "Lester stood in the corner with his arms folded, listening to the whispers of the Italian gangsters around him, "Do you think the Mexicans won or the Irish won?"

"Of course it's the Irish! What the hell are all the Mexicans?

They only show off their power in the border areas, but this is New York."

Lester grinned at this.

He thought so before.

But the fact is, the Mexicans retreated calmly, leaving almost no corpses behind except for a tactical team of unknown origin and two mutants. The Irish were slaughtered and the entire Hell's Kitchen gathering point was razed to the ground, especially the old Irish gang, the Emperor's New Clothes.

The third person, the drunkard James, the fourth person, the lame Pique, and the fifth person, Therrington, were all carried out.

Countless thugs and gang members died.

Only the second-in-command, the black-hearted prince Benjamin, is missing.

The area controlled by Ireland has become a real vacuum zone at this moment, but no one dares to act rashly now, because... while the Homeland Defense Force is cooperating with the police to collect the bodies, it is also intentionally or unintentionally controlling the entire Hell's Kitchen.

Everyone could see that they were deliberately taking advantage of the situation.

However, no one dared to tell them what to do, but the Italians and Russians were already prepared. After these people withdrew, they would immediately seize the areas controlled by the Irish.

Hell's Kitchen is a steal in economic terms.

The area controlled by the Irish, if converted into US dollars, may not be worth as much as a luxury store they opened on a financial street.

But Hell's Kitchen cannot be measured in money.

This is a famous no-man's land.

It is the nutrient pool for the survival of New York gangs.

So, Hell's Kitchen is important.

Lester suddenly perked up.

He lowered his head slightly, but his eyes were fixed on several body bags in the distance. He flicked the ashes on his hand lightly and watched them being loaded into a black van and then disappear in the distance.

A smile appeared on Lester's face.

Yashida Group!

It turned out to be those short Japanese guys.

No wonder the head chopped off last night was also Asian.

After figuring out the origins and identities of this group of people.

Lester turned and left.

Mrs. Stacy returned to the office just after finishing surgery.

As soon as he entered the room, he saw Fisk holding a pair of tweezers, carefully removing the bullet from his arm. Scarlet blood was flowing out of the wound, but not too much.

However, there were already three or four bullets on the table next to him.

Rolled his eyes.

Mrs. Stacy locked the door and walked over angrily. She first pushed Fisk's head hard with her hand, then sneered and said, "Sooner or later, you will be shot to death!"

"Hahaha, so I came to see you, didn't I?" Fisk hugged Mrs. Stacy in his arms, smelling her faint body fragrance, and suddenly felt much better.

"Hmph, are you sure you're only here to see me?" Mrs. Stacy took the tweezers and spoke in an ambiguous tone while helping him pick out the bullet.

Fisk was stunned.

Is this teasing yourself?

Didn’t she get enough food yesterday?

Fisk was stunned for a moment and didn't react. He was unresponsive for several seconds. Mrs. Stacy narrowed her eyes, thinking that he was ignoring her. She snorted coldly and increased the movement of her hands, which made Fisk wake up immediately due to the pain.

"Huh, so you think of me as a free gangster doctor."

Fisk felt the pain and of course understood what Mrs. Stacy meant. He quickly reached out and grabbed her wrist, "It hurts, it hurts, it still hurts! This is my flesh, not one of those rubber surgical dummies used by interns."

Mrs. Stacy still rolled her eyes: "It hurts, it hurts, it's none of my business."

However, the movements of her hands were obviously lighter.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt myself, something big happened in Hell’s Kitchen last night and several of my employees were in danger.

I can't help it. I haven't had time to buy them medical insurance. If they die in Hell's Kitchen, I'll have to pay for their funeral out of my own pocket." Fisk deliberately tried to find a topic to explain.

Mrs. Stacy stood there, as if she hadn't heard anything. She used the tweezers in her hand to accurately grasp the bullet embedded in the muscle, then took out a needle and thread from the table and began to sew it up. At the same time, she took out a tube of adrenaline and stuck it in Fisk's wrist.

Fisk slowly reached out, gently supported her shoulders, and turned her body to face him.

It was only at this time that he noticed that Mrs. Stacy was wearing a pair of black high heels today, paired with flesh-colored stockings.

This was the first time Fisk had seen her wearing flesh-colored stockings.

Looking at those thin stockings, it seems like she is not wearing anything.

Fisk couldn't help but swallow.

Mrs. Stacy seemed to feel Fisk's gaze, staring at her straightly. She finally couldn't stand it anymore and glared back, "What are you looking at? Don't you just think of me as a gangster doctor?"

"Doc, I was just wondering if your stockings might be a little tight?"

As Fisk spoke, he helped her straighten her clothes and held her closer to him.

Mrs. Stacy's cheeks were slightly red, but she seemed to remember something and quickly took a step back.

But how could she escape Fisk's grasp? She was held in his arms. His large palms rubbed her lower back gently, as soft and boneless as water.

His hot breath hit her body, and Fisk slowly moved closer.

Mrs. Stacy had no way to avoid it now, but she didn't look like she really wanted to avoid it. Her hands kept moving and she continued to sew the wound, but her cheeks became even redder.

Fisk slowly moved closer and tentatively touched his lips to hers.

Mrs. Stacy was stunned and hesitated for a moment, but did not resist, which made Fisk feel inexplicably unbearable.

The arms around her waist tightened slightly, clinging to her lithe body.

The bright eyes stared at each other's red lips.

He tilted his head slightly and leaned in again until he kissed Mrs. Stacy's lips.

The hot breath, enveloping the air, intertwined and merged in the air.

Fisk hugged her delicate body tightly, his big hands gently pinching her clothes at the waist, and his lips kept sweeping back and forth, enjoying the sweet lipstick.

Their brains were filled with rising lust, and blood was flowing out from the wounds caused by the bullets, but the two seemed to have forgotten everything about it.

There is only each other in their eyes.

"Well!"

A slight hum escaped from Mrs. Stacy's Adam's apple. Feeling the sudden presence of a thief's hand on her body, Mrs. Stacy's eyes widened slightly, and a light like water waves rippled in her eyes. "Um... take it away..."

Her face struggled slightly, and her lips moved a little.

But the next moment, her lips were sealed again.

The rationality in Mrs. Stacy's eyes completely disappeared without a trace.

But at this moment, the hospital door was suddenly knocked and a voice came from outside the door.

Mrs. Stacy immediately jumped away like a little rabbit.

Then he quickly began to tidy up his clothes.

"It's George, he was just in the hospital, I asked him to come to the office!"

Fisk was stunned. Why did Chief George follow him wherever he went?

Well, if you can't afford to offend someone, can't you just hide away?

He hugged Mrs. Stacy tightly again, kissed her hard on the face, and then walked towards the window not far away, "Wait a minute, you still have wounds on your body, don't you need me to sew you up?"

As she spoke, she slowly stuck out her tongue and licked the saliva from the corner of her lips.

Fisk waved his hands and patted his chest without caring: "It's okay, I just wanted to see if you were in any danger.

Also, I'm still alive.

Now that I see you are not in any danger, I feel relieved.

I can handle this minor injury myself, it's okay.

If you encounter any dangerous situation, remember to call me immediately and I will come to help you as soon as possible. "

Just as he was about to turn over and leave, Mrs. Stacy suddenly grabbed Fisk's hand and pulled him back to the chair next to him, "He doesn't know I'm in there now. I'll help you take out the bullets before you leave. He will say I was too tired and fell asleep on the chair later." As she said that, she sat on Fisk and pressed Fisk directly onto the chair.

Then he picked up the tweezers and began to remove the last few bullets.

However, while she was taking the bullet and stitching the wound, her body was shaking and twisting constantly, and she did not look like a serious surgeon.

Fisk naturally couldn't be an emotionless puppet, and his two hands slowly climbed upwards.

In the spacious dean's office, the sound of breathing became more and more rapid, as if there was an invisible incense burner, emitting an enchanting fragrance slowly wafting upwards.

The bullet fell into the white porcelain plate.

The two lips also touched each other.

The hot breaths intertwined again.

The charming body fragrance rushes into the nose, and the jelly-like feeling in the palm of the hand makes people excited and tremble all over.

Fisk paused the kiss, lips slowly parting.

The tip of his broad nose lightly touched the hot skin on his cheek.

A light began to flicker deep in his eyes, and he stared into Mrs. Stacy's slightly blurry eyes.

"Mrs. Stacy, you should know that your husband, George Stacy, should be outside the room at this moment, right?"

"Yeah!" Mrs. Stacy lay on Fisk's chest with a dazed look in her eyes, "Of course I know, he is outside the door now.