"Weasel, pour me a cappuccino."
At Sister Margaret's bar, Robert—wearing a pair of glasses—sat casually at the counter and called out to Weasel, who was busy cleaning a glass.
Weasel looked up, immediately spotting Robert's new look, and couldn't help but ask, "What's with the glasses? You go blind overnight?"
"No," Robert pushed up his glasses with a straight face. "This is my disguise."
Weasel stared at him. "What are you, Superman? Slap on a pair of glasses and suddenly nobody knows who you are?"
"You don't believe in my disguise?" Robert's voice was full of disbelief, as if Weasel had just insulted his life's work.
Weasel scoffed. "If that's called a disguise, then every woman putting on makeup is getting full-blown plastic surgery."
His voice got a little too loud, and from the corner of his eye he noticed a long-haired woman at the bar shooting him a cold glare.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Weasel quickly added, "Just a metaphor, Vanessa. Nothing against women. Respect!"
Vanessa.
Robert gave her a casual glance. Sure enough, it was Wade's Vanessa—the woman Wade had been pining for but didn't dare to approach now that he'd... changed.
Robert quickly shifted his gaze back to Weasel.
"Since you don't believe me," Robert said confidently, "how about a bet? If my disguise holds up, you buy me this cappuccino."
Weasel grinned. "Sure. But how exactly are you gonna prove it?"
Robert looked around, spotted a bearded man wandering past, and waved.
"Hey, Buck!"
The bearded man turned, blinking at Robert in confusion. "Who are you? We met?"
Robert smiled and dramatically pulled off his glasses.
Recognition immediately dawned on Buck's face. "Ah, it's you, kid! Didn't even recognize you at first!"
Weasel: "..."
If he remembered right, Robert and Buck had only met a few days ago. And now a pair of glasses made all the difference?
"...Alright, fine," Weasel grumbled. "That's a disguise. But I still say Buck's half-blind."
Grudgingly, he pulled out his special coffee powder and made a fresh cappuccino, setting it down in front of Robert.
He also slipped over a black card at the same time, smirking. "Here you go, Mr. Fifteen Million. You're so famous now, even I'm tempted."
Robert picked up the black card and gave it a quick scan.
Target: The Punisher and an unidentified Asian male.
Mission: Suspected of sabotaging a transaction between the Scorpion Organization and the Russian Ross gang.
Bounty: $15 million for killing or capturing either target. Bonus for actionable intel.
Robert raised an eyebrow. "You weren't kidding."
"The bounty just updated," Weasel said casually. "Didn't expect you to get mixed up with the Punisher."
"It was an accident," Robert said honestly.
He hadn't even shown his face properly, but Frank had already gotten exposed. Which meant now, Frank was standing squarely in the center of the storm.
Fifteen million was no joke. That kind of money would bring out every bounty hunter, assassin, and desperate thug in New York.
Robert took a sip of his coffee. "You find anything else?"
Weasel nodded and leaned in closer, lowering his voice.
"You were right. That commission you took? It stinks. I dug around. Turns out the frozen Warehouse was rented just two weeks ago. Probably a pop-up location for the deal. And except for the handful of gangsters involved that night, no one else should've known about it."
Robert's eyes narrowed. "Meaning...?"
"Meaning your employer is someone inside the operation," Weasel said. He double-checked the room again before continuing. "And not just any insider. Probably someone high up."
Robert frowned. "You mean... Kingpin? Or the Russian bosses?"
"Exactly," Weasel said seriously. "Word is, the Russian Ross gang is tearing the city apart looking for the Punisher. But Kingpin? He's not making a sound. He's just quietly absorbing the dead guy's turf."
Robert stiffened slightly.
"Wait... you're telling me Kingpin is the one who hired me!?"
He almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
The same guy who posted a $15 million bounty on his head... was also the one who paid him for the job in the first place.
"Just a guess," Weasel said quickly. "But if it's true, you need to lay low. Kingpin's no street punk. If he decides to wipe you out, you won't even know what hit you."
Robert adjusted his glasses with a calm smile. "Don't worry. You've seen my disguise. Foolproof."
Weasel stared at him like he was insane.
Then he leaned back and returned to normal conversation volume. "Anyway, your commission is officially complete. You've got $100,000 waiting. Want it in cash?"
Robert shook his head. "Nope. Use it to buy something for me."
He pulled a folded list out of his jacket and handed it over.
Weasel opened it, scanned a few lines—and almost dropped the glass he was polishing.
"...You're buying gun parts?"
Robert smiled innocently. "I'm planning to do a little... customization."
Weasel narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You even know how to modify guns?"
Robert casually pushed up his glasses again. Confidence radiated from him.
"I dabble."
[End of Chapter 30]
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