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"Mr. Fisk?" Link appeared genuinely surprised. "How could I forget? That card game changed my life."
After shaking hands, Link asked, "Are you here to purchase paintings as well, Mr. Fisk?"
"I've bought one before. The pieces here are indeed excellent, and I fully agree with your perspective," Wilson Fisk replied at a measured pace. "The value of art lies in its audience."
"Have you left the police force, Mr. Link?"
Link nodded and said, "Yes, that trip to Las Vegas made me a millionaire. Why would I continue as a cop, especially at the West Midtown precinct?"
"And it also made me realize the power of psychology. After returning, I resigned."
"I also sold my old home and bought a new apartment. Given a cop's salary, I couldn't even afford decent decor, so I figured it was time for a career change."
Link took out a business card and handed it to Fisk. "I'm now a professional gambler. Recently, I've gained some reputation in New York's poker circles."
"I'm impressed by your knowledge of psychology, Mr. Link," Fisk said. "I'd love to see your skills in action again."
"I regret not keeping in touch after that game, especially with Madame Alexandra. If we had another round, I doubt I'd win against her this time," Link said with a hint of regret.
Fisk responded, "Madame doesn't often appear in public; it's usually only for business. If I meet her again, I'll be sure to mention you."
"Here's my card as well. I have great respect for your talents, Mr. Link."
"Gentlemen, might I interject for a moment?" Vanessa, who had been standing quietly nearby, finally spoke.
She hadn't interrupted the conversation earlier but saw an opportunity now.
"Of course!" Fisk immediately took a step back.
Link also added, "I'm interested in this painting. Can it be delivered?"
"Certainly. Please follow me to register your address and delivery time," Vanessa said, gesturing for them to follow.
Link, with Jessica on his arm, walked over. Tracy followed behind, and Fisk, seeing this, had no suspicions.
This man wasn't here for him. Fisk glanced at the card Link had handed him. It only had a name and a phone number. It was clear this man had indeed become a millionaire, and it made no sense for him to go back to being a frontline officer.
Link pulled out his checkbook and wrote a check for $30,000, the asking price for the painting.
After providing his address, he said, "Have it delivered tomorrow at 10 AM."
"No problem, it will be delivered on time," Vanessa replied with a professional smile, showing no sign of emotion from making the sale. "Is there anything else you need, Mr. Link?"
"I haven't finished browsing, but it seems Mr. Fisk is waiting for you. Perhaps I'll come back another time," Link said with a smile. "If any new pieces come in, do let me know. I've only just bought one."
"And please recommend other notable artworks as well."
"Certainly, here's my card." Vanessa exchanged business cards with Link and then escorted them out of the gallery.
Afterward, Vanessa returned to Fisk's side and asked, "Do you think he bought the painting out of courtesy to you?"
"No, Mr. Link has a deep understanding of psychology. If it weren't for me, he likely would've continued browsing," Fisk remarked. "If anything, I interrupted your business."
"No worries. He left his card and even asked me to recommend some colleagues." Vanessa smiled. "It's the first time I've met someone who selects art through the lens of psychology."
Fisk offered his own insight. "Just like the piece I bought, truly great art touches the soul."
…
Link didn't engage in deep conversation today. When gathering intelligence, one must be cautious and patient, especially without rushing, as it made things more interesting.
After leaving the gallery, Link helped Jessica into Tracy's car, leaned into the passenger-side window, and said, "Don't stay out too long. I'll miss you."
Jessica blushed. "I won't."
After a brief kiss, Link stepped back, waved goodbye to them, and returned to his own car, starting it up and driving away.
Back home, Link pulled out a secure phone and called Coulson to report.
"I met Wilson Fisk today. He's pursuing that female art dealer at the gallery," Link said.
"Great, that's a solid start. What's your next move?" Coulson asked.
"I bought a painting from the woman. She has good taste in art, and I mentioned that my home needs more pieces for decor," Link shared his plan. "I also asked her to recommend other art dealers."
"I plan to use that as my inroad. After all, I'm a millionaire now."
"But my knowledge of art is limited. Does the agency have any experts who can check out the gallery first and give me some professional advice?"
"No problem. Since you're spending your own money, we'll make sure you don't get shortchanged. I'll send someone to take a look," Coulson agreed, knowing it was only fair. After all, Link was spending real money for this operation.
If he ended up buying something worthless, Link would essentially be paying to work. His joining of S.H.I.E.L.D. had been more out of curiosity or as a personal hobby.
Still, his individual talents were exceptional, making him one of the most suitable candidates for this mission.
Originally, Natasha had been considered for the assignment, but Fisk had shown little interest in women, and his private life was exceedingly plain.
Ordinarily, a figure like Fisk wouldn't fall under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s purview. However, the sudden expansion of his influence had caught the agency's attention.
This mission was also a test for Link, as routine intelligence gathering wouldn't reveal his true potential.
…
Jessica and Tracy returned to Tracy's house, where Jessica had a room. The two had lived together for some time.
"Jessica, are you really moving in with him?" Tracy asked. "Are you sure Link's not just a playboy?"
"He doesn't seem like it. I haven't lost my mind," Jessica shook her head. "It looks like he was telling the truth. He used to be a cop. I saw some photos at his place."
"Graduation pictures from the police academy, and some where he's in uniform. And tonight, we met that big guy who confirmed his story."
"He wasn't lying."
"And his house shows no signs of another woman. I'm pretty sharp at spotting that kind of thing."
"But right now, I'm more focused on finding my own career. Do you know how much he spent on me today?"
"Nearly a million dollars!"
"And he wants you to work?" Tracy asked, astonished.
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