Chapter 43: Preparations and a Lucky Pull
The news that Ethan was about to go to war with Hell's Kitchen's gangs spread like wildfire. The whole neighborhood was buzzing.
A nervous tension hung in the air, the kind that signals an invisible storm coming. Residents who had been wandering the streets froze when they heard, then quickened their pace toward home. Their faces showed worry and unease, as if they could feel the weight of what was about to happen.
The neighborhood vendors closed up shop early — some even nailing wooden boards over their windows to protect against whatever the night might bring. They stood in their doorways, watching the late afternoon light fade, faces full of resignation.
Ethan, by contrast, walked back toward his restaurant like he had nowhere urgent to be. His expression was calm, with a faint smile at the edge of his mouth. The fight was unavoidable. He wasn't afraid. He had the confidence to back it up.
On the narrow streets, residents hurried about their business — but when they saw Ethan, they stopped.
Some flashed him a thumbs-up. A silent gesture of encouragement and support. There was admiration in their eyes, because they understood what he was fighting for. Some looked at him with worry, knowing the odds.
"You give 'em hell, son!" a middle-aged woman called out to him. "The day that school opens, my kid is the first one through the door."
Her voice carried trust and gratitude — she knew everything Ethan was doing was for the children's future.
"Ethan — thank you. For everything you've done for Hell's Kitchen. I hope you make it through this." An old man patted his shoulder, his eyes full of hope.
Ethan felt the weight of their faith, and it strengthened his resolve. There was no room for failure tonight. He couldn't disappoint these people. He couldn't let everything he'd built come to nothing.
When Ethan got back to the restaurant, his crew was waiting for him. John Wick. Pietro. Deadpool Dog. Doctor Yinsen. Even Wade — who'd been out chasing bounties the night before — was back, standing with the others.
They were gathered together, watching him with quiet, steady eyes.
Ethan looked at them and felt something settle in his chest. I have these people. I'm not going to lose.
"What are you all doing standing in the doorway? You're not actually worried about me, are you? Get inside." He grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
Nobody answered. They simply fell in behind him as he walked into the restaurant.
They knew. The next several hours would put them shoulder to shoulder, fighting for Hell's Kitchen's future.
In the corner of the dining room, the discussion turned serious. Ethan — young as he was, and carrying more weight than any man his age should — let his eyes move across each face at the table. The lighting was dim, but his gaze was sharp as a blade.
"Our enemies are not simple," he said. His voice carried.
"The Irish gang in the west. The Mexican cartel in the south. And behind them — the Hand and S.H.I.E.L.D. Every one of these forces is a threat we have to take seriously."
What Ethan didn't yet know was that the Brotherhood of Mutants had also arrived in Hell's Kitchen — and their target was him.
"Tonight, we go all in." His voice was iron. "The Irish gang in the west — I've already worked out terms with the Peaky Blinders. They'll provide the support we need. Uncle Fisk is handling that side of things."
"In midtown, the Vongola Family will help us deal with the smaller crews."
"As for the Mexican cartel in the south, and the S.H.I.E.L.D. strike team backing them — Master Ip, Marcus. That's yours. Any objections?"
He looked at Caine and Marcus.
The Mexican cartel had numbers, but their men were ordinary people. Marcus alone — a legendary assassin in his own right — should be able to handle them. The S.H.I.E.L.D. team would fall to Caine. Between the two of them, Ethan was confident they'd manage.
"No problem at all." Caine's voice was calm and certain. "I have no mercy in me for drug dealers."
"And if my read is right," Ethan continued, "they'll have reinforcements coming in too."
His tone shifted. There was a depth in his eyes — the look of a man who had thought the angles through.
"The gangs themselves aren't really the threat. The Hand is."
"The Hand is your job, Wade. Pietro. John. The three of you handle them."
"Wade, consider this an extension of your bounty hunting. Go make some pocket money."
"And take Deadpool Dog with you."
"You really do get me, my dear Ethan. Are you sure you haven't fallen in love with me?" Wade waggled his eyebrows, that signature mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"Doctor Yinsen — would you like to take Little Ye and stay at Tony's place for the night? Or you can stay in the apartment building. Either way, I guarantee no one will lay a finger on either of you."
Yinsen smiled. "I'm not a liability. Give me a gun. I'll stay here at the restaurant and fight alongside you. I'll protect Little Ye myself."
Ethan didn't argue.
He paused, then continued: "I'll stay at the restaurant and coordinate from here. If anything unexpected happens, I'll let you all know immediately. And I'll be watching for any enemies who might come for us directly."
Time passed in that organized, charged way it always does before something inevitable. Each member of the team busied themselves with preparations.
Ethan sat alone in a quiet corner of the restaurant, his eyes distant. He looked thoughtful — and he was, but not in the way anyone watching might assume.
He was actually having a conversation with the System in his head, trying to see if he could squeeze any last-minute help out of it before the fight began.
The moment he opened the System interface, he was hit with a wall of notifications.
「DING!」
「Congratulations, Host! Hell's Kitchen Resident D has added you as a friend!」
「DING!」
「Congratulations, Host! Hell's Kitchen Resident E has added you as a friend!」
「Congratulations, Host! Hell's Kitchen Resident...」
The notifications scrolled and scrolled. Ethan checked the timestamps — all of them had triggered during his walk back from Fisk Tower. The residents who'd cheered him on, the woman who'd shouted about her child, the old man who'd patted his shoulder. Every one of them had passively friended him.
"System — how many Friend Points do I have right now?"
「Current balance: 603 Friend Points. Available for conversion to 6 Family Points.」
「Convert?」
"Convert."
"Run the gacha. System."
「DING!」
「Congratulations, Host. You drew: Better Luck Next Time.」
"That cursed drop rate," Ethan muttered.
"Keep going. Burn all five draws. Now."
He closed his eyes and waited.
「DING! Gacha completed.」
「Congratulations, Host! You drew: ...」
「Congratulations, Host! You drew: the Lost Driver.」
「Congratulations, Host! You drew: the Eternal Memory.」
Ethan opened his eyes. He stared at the two items in his inventory.
A faint smile crept onto his face as the catchphrase surfaced from his memory: "Come on then — enjoy yourself in hell."
He murmured to himself, "Kamen Rider Eternal, huh? Hell, huh? Well — that's almost too perfect for me. System... was this really just a coincidence?"
☆☆☆
-> 20 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you