Alfred had given Russell a thorough rundown of Western etiquette, but he didn't insist that he follow it to the letter.

  As Alfred put it:

  "True nobility and sophistication aren't about rigid rules, they're about attitude..."

  "...If you can treat a 1,500 per-ounce tin of Beluga caviar like peanut butter, enjoying it the way you always would without being swayed by its price, then others will see you as genuine aristocracy."

  The key was maintaining composure, never letting perceived value or status alter your demeanor.

  I eat Beluga caviar simply because I want to...

  No other reason.

  If you could pull that off, even dressed in rags, people would assume you hailed from some ancient, fallen dynasty and not mistake you for a common vagrant.

  Russell wasn't entirely convinced by Alfred's philosophy, but it reminded him of an old East Asian saying: "Be unmoved even if Mount Tai colpses before you; remain unruffled even when deers dart past your left side."

  It seemed to echo Alfred's point.

  So Russell paid no mind to Major General Hughes' imposing presence.

  To him, the man across the table was just an old-timer negotiating a minor deal.

  Seeing Russell's unshakable calm, Hughes finally dropped his initial condescension and studied the seemingly fresh-faced young man more carefully...

  "You should have reviewed the cooperation terms. If there are no issues, we can proceed with signing immediately."

  After thoroughly observing Russell, aside from noting his exquisitely tailored clothing, Hughes failed to discern anything else of particur value.

  "Very well." Russell said little, merely gesturing to Alfred.

  Two copies of the contract were promptly presented.

  When both parties signed the agreement, formalizing Syndicate's partnership with the U.S. Army, Hughes paused at Russell's signature...

  Russell had not signed using an English name, but rather his Chinese name.

  Hughes didn't read Mandarin, but the context was clear...

  Signing a Western contract in Chinese script broke convention, but neither side were ordinary businessmen. This document was symbolic, a token of their new alliance.

  Neither Russell nor Hughes believed a piece of paper could bind the other.

  If either chose to renege, this contract would be worthless.

  After completing this ceremony that held more symbolic than practical significance, Hughes and his delegation departed Syndicate Corporation, taking with them one hundred doses of the test "Syndicate Type-3" enhancement serum.

  Watching the Humvees vanish down the street, Russell realized he'd inadvertently acquired what most spend lifetimes chasing yet never attain.

  The military deal had ushered him into America's elite circles.

  The existence of 'Syndicate Bio' had granted him wealth beyond ordinary people's wildest dreams.

  The company now functioned as a money-printing machine, generating fortunes daily, and all of this was orchestrated by Alfred, Russell's third Apostle reward.

  At this rate, Syndicate Bio would become a corporate titan. And soon...

  Turning to Alfred, Russell said quietly, "Thank you Alfred. You're the finest butler alive. I'm fortunate to have you."

  "Serving you is my privilege, sir."

  Having such a man at his back was reassuring.

  With public affairs settled, it was time to address darker matters.

  Alfred knew wealth and status alone wouldn't satisfy Russell, so he'd prepared accordingly.

  Unlike before when Russell commanded just 21 soldiers, Alfred had spent two months assembling an elite 200-strong force.

  Their backgrounds were… eclectic.

  Ex-special forces. Gangsters. Former spies. Notorious criminals.

  Russell didn't know where Alfred found them, or how he'd tamed such unruly elements into absolute obedience.

  But one thing was certain: Under Alfred's guidance, they rivaled the soldiers Russell had brought from Hydra's base.

  "Use the 'Hungry Wolves' without hesitation, sir. They'll be your sharpest bde."

  Alfred had named the unit himself.

  Why Hungry Wolves?

  Because, as he put it, "They'll tear apart any prey in their path."

  With this force, Russell could finally pursue what he'd longed to do.

  Kingpin's ambush had left a sting impression.

  And st night, Jessica who was still gathering Intel had delivered news that intrigued both Russell and the Daredevil:

  "Bullseye's been spotted. He's at Kingpin's secret compound in the suburbs."

  For two months, Kingpin had seemingly tolerated Syndicate's presence in Hell's Kitchen.

  But Russell knew this wasn't mercy, Kingpin had simply been preoccupied.

  Thanks to Daredevil, the crime lord had suffered significant losses tely.

  Worse, none of his men could stop the viginte's crusade.

  So Kingpin did the unthinkable... He allied with the Hand.

  No one understood his reasoning, but the partnership was undeniable... and disturbingly close.