"You sure your boys can handle the Punisher?" Wade Keys demanded as he paced frantically across the floor of the VIP section of the Saints and Sinners Trenton club.

The muscular white man, dressed in a white suit with a navy-blue shirt, looked up at the frantic blue-eyed punk with a mixture of amusement and disdain. His face was horribly disfigured and looked as if it had been pieced back together, like a puzzle. The explosion that sent him through a window would not have happened had it not been for the Punisher.

Jigsaw, real name John Saint, cleared his throat to get the blonde's attention.

"Mr. Keys, the Eternal Sun are extremely loyal and capable of neutralizing any and all of our enemies. Frank Castle will be no exception."

"What reason do you have for actually agreeing to help me?" Keys asked, stopping his pacing.

A scowl briefly flashed across Jigsaw's scarred face before disappearing into a smile. This guy was a complete idiot, but his father's death didn't make it outside of Tampa news. He couldn't blame him for not knowing what happened to Howard Saint.

"My family. He's responsible for my brother's death, he killed my father and he's got answers to what happened to my mother and a family friend. Also, Frank's a very predictable man, so I left him a nice little surprise back at your place."

Keys stumbled backward, almost falling on his ass. "W-wow, I didn't think you were so smart!"

Saint scowled again. "My father was a very successful businessman who taught my brother and I all we needed to put the world in our hands."

"Sorry."

"Anyway, all we can do is await the end of the Punisher."

KEYS FAMILY HOME

Frank received a tip that Wade Keys had decided to prepare for him rather than skip town, which meant a lot of thugs with more guts than common sense shitting their pants while they waited for certain death. His father had placed a $250,000 bounty on the Punisher's head and there would be a lot of desperate scum all wanting to be the man who clapped the Skull of Justice. Frank had danced to this song too often to not know the steps.

He scouted the two-story mansion for a week. The property was crawling with every hoodlum and gangbanging piece of shit the Keys could scrounge up and give a gun to. This, of course, allowed Frank to properly prepare himself. For this, the Punisher carried a pair of seven-round Colt M1911 pistols on his hips as well as a pair of Uzis that contained sixteen forty-five caliber rounds that were slung under his arms. His main weapon was the sole remaining Pancor Jackhammer fully automatic shotgun, filled with fragmentation shells. His spare ammunition was in various pouches of his black tactical vest that his infamous white skull was adorned upon. On his waist were frag grenades as well as flashbangs and an array of knives. Frank was ready to finish this whole thing and give Wade Keys the punishment he rightfully earned, but first…

Two members of the Crosstown Hammaz, one of the gangs recruited for the Keys' security detail, heard a horn blaring loudly and looked up to see an oncoming eighteen-wheeler barreling straight for them. Instead of moving out of the way, the two wannabe hard-asses raised their MAC-11s and fired at the cab to no avail. Instead of slowing down, the truck plowed straight through the two human speed bumps and kept going until its momentum was halted by the giant steel and concrete fountain that was erected in the center of the grounds with a deafening crash. More of the Hammaz slowly advanced the wreck, their respective weapons pointed at the mangled cab. Perfect. The more, the merrier.

Castle prevented himself from smirking as he pressed a button on a small remote in his left hand while the Hammaz inspected the cab of the truck and saw that the accelerator and steering wheel had been rigged with a metal pipe wedged between both and some rope that lay on the edge of the seat that must've been tied to the gear. The doors literally blew off of the hinges and shot forward, horizontally cutting two of the closest thugs in half. During the chaos, Frank barreled out of a door on the side of the trailer and rolled to a knee in front of two confused Hammaz. He quickly squeezed the shotgun's trigger, blowing a fist-sized hole in the first thug before taking the head off the other goon with another trigger pull. Two more shells ripped off the legs of a third Hamma at the knees before the contents of his skull made a quick exit from the back of his head.

"You're fuckin' dead, Punisher!"

Twin rat-a-tats sent the Punisher stumbling onto his back into a backward roll that he recovered from, his own Uzis in hand and already firing at the bastard who attacked him from behind, giving him a severe case of lead poisoning. Luckily his vest stood up to nine-millimeter rounds and could stop anything short of armor-piercing ammo.

A member of the Bagg Boiz, a Hulk of a man, charged at Frank from the left side armed with a wooden baseball bat. He brought the melee weapon down on Frank's submachine guns, knocking them out of his hands.

"I'ma knock ya fuckin' dome straight into Yankee Stadium."

The Bagg Boi swung again, aiming for the Punisher's head and missing when he ducked and weaved, throwing two punches to his rib cage that didn't even register as the monstrous thug swung the bat once more and connected with Frank's crossed forearms which would've been shattered had it not been for the tactical gauntlets he was wearing. Though the shock of the blow spread through his arms, Frank managed to move the bat away from himself and drive his knee into the man's enormous stomach, knocking out wind and giving him room to maneuver. He pulled a throwing knife from his tactical vest and let it fly, the blade lodging itself into the Bagg Boi's neck. The 'banger smiled, reaching to pull the blade out of his neck when he stopped the minute blood began to flow from his mouth. He fell forward, slumped face down, and that was the end of him.

No more time to waste, Frank thought, as he picked up his subguns and began his advance on the Keys Manor.

INSIDE KEYS MANOR

Antonio "Celsius" Ealy stood on the second floor inside the mansion with six other members of his Bank Roll Mob. He and his boys were patrolling outside the study that their employer, Joseph Keys, was locked away in. The Bank Roll Mob was the first line of defense against the Punisher. Inside the study were all twelve members of the BRM's rivals, the Silverback Kingz.

Celsius thought the poor honky was out of his mind when he showed up with bodyguards at his house, especially when he got to talkin' about if he wanted to help him kill the Punisher. Wasn't no doubt he wanted to see the motherfuckin' Punisher dead, but no way in hell was he actually gonna face him. He was about to slam the door in his face when the last person he ever expected to see came walking about behind Keys; not even the devil himself would close his door on Jigsaw. Celsius damn near shit his pants when he saw the crime boss' heavily wrecked mug in the flesh. Jigsaw spoke with an air too calm about him.

"He's not 'fucking crazy,' as you put it, Mr. Ealy. In fact, Mr. Keys is a client of mine and he's here on my behalf. I would like to assist him in the elimination of this particular problem and I immediately thought of you and your… how do you say? Employees. At a fair price of two hundred fifty thousand dollars each, we would like to enlist your services in the death of one Frank Castle."

The mention of money peaked Celsius' intrigue. He knew for a fact Jigsaw was good for it.

"You will all have the best equipment for the job as well."

Celsius accepted the offer on behalf of the entire Bank Roll Mob, which didn't go very well with all but the six remaining members who were present. Celsius didn't want any pussies in his clique, so he and the six made a bloody example out of them. He grew up poor, surrounded by failure and cowards: his pops left his moms when he was six, his moms died when he was ten, his family didn't want him because he didn't get along with his cousins. When Celsius turned 13, he got payback on his eighteen-year-old uncle who had been bullying and molesting him. His grandparents wouldn't believe him and they put him out on the streets. Celsius and a few of his friends broke in the house and stood over his uncle's bed. When the man woke up, they each stabbed him a dozen times. Just for kicks, they stabbed his grandparents the same way. No one ever knew who committed the grisly murders, it was a cold case. The Bank Roll Mob was born that day, and Celsius only saw dollars signs ahead of him after that.

Thus, why he and his boys were present to protect Joseph Keys from the most lethal predator on two legs, even if a huge payday meant teaming up with their sworn enemies.

An explosion came from downstairs, enough to get Celsius' attention. He went over to the stairs and looked down to the front door, which had been blown to pieces along with a handful of men that had also been hired by Keys. That's when the leader of the Bank Roll Mob finally saw him for himself; a tall and athletic white man, dressed in black with the signature skull on his Kevlar vest and armed with a pair of Uzis mowing down his opposition that dared to come at him. When the Punisher's weapons ran dry, he discarded them and drew one of his Colt M1911s.

"Go get him!" Celsius screamed at his men, armed with AR-15 rifles.

The Bank Roll Mob thugs advanced down the stairs, firing wildly at Frank, who had enough sense to dash into the living room and dive behind a couch, now both Colts in his hands. He heard the weapons stop firing for a moment. That's when he unhooked one of his flashbang grenades and pulled the pin before lobbing it over the couch at the feet of the six punks. They were instantly enveloped in a bright flash of light and a thunderous explosion that disoriented their sight and hearing.

The opening Frank needed. He emerged from cover, aiming and three shots each from both pistols later, he stood before headless corpses. They had come from upstairs; a sign that his target was hiding somewhere in the general area. He began his ascent, coming face to face with Celsius, who was wide-eyed with what looked like a mix of fear and rage before he raised his own AR-15.

"You motherfucker, you k—" Celsius began before the fury of God himself went through his thighs.

Castle advanced, sticking the barrel of the Colt in his left hand in the gang leader's mouth while the right one was pointed at his left temple.

"Head movement for yes or no. Is Joseph Keys in there?"

Celsius nodded frantically, mostly due to the agony in his upper legs.

"How many with him?" Castle demanded, taking his gun out of the man's mouth.

"Twelve, and I hope they fuck your ass up, you little bi—"

Castle stuck the gun back in Celsius' mouth as he holstered his other weapon. He pulled the gang leader to his feet and simply kicked him in the chest through the thick wooden doors, forcing them open. Chaos spilled immediately as Celsius was ripped apart by 7.62-millimeter rounds coming from all directions. The Punisher took advantage, having picked up the fallen AR-15. He locked on to his first target and unleashed a three-round burst into his chest before moving on to the next and giving him the same treatment. His right hand reached over the left side of his waist and pulled out a throwing knife that he hurled at one of his attackers rushing him. The blade struck true, sinking into his trachea and dropping him.

This was too easy; the enemy had emptied their magazines on a decoy. He raised the AR-15 and finished his targets off with quick three-round bursts. When the last of his enemies took their dying breath, Castle scanned the entire room for who he had come for but ultimately saw no one. He had known in the back of his mind that this was a trap, but he had to spring it to get what he wanted. His eyes landed on a giant golden sarcophagus in the back of the study next to a window; an item out of place for what was supposed to be a sitting room/library. He gazed at the sarcophagus again and walked up to it to look it up and down. Upon examination, Castle saw that it was not truly made of gold, but rather painted as such.

Hard plastic. Hmm.

Castle turned his back and began to make his way out of the room when the false sarcophagus' lid quietly open and out ran Joseph Keys with a knife in hand. The Punisher turned and caught the man in the stomach with the butt of the AR-15 before hitting him under the chin, rendering him unconscious…

Hours later, Joseph Keys awoke to find himself naked and tied to a chair. The room he was in the center of was dark and spare. From what he could tell, it looked like a kitchen.

"Joseph Keys, award winning philanthropist. Tell me, how do you get mixed up with gangbangers?"

"You touch one hair on my head, you'll have a fucking army on your back for the rest of your life! You don't know who I am, do you?!"

Castle rolled himself over to the suspended man in a desk chair and tapped him on the nose. Hard.

"I just said it. I know your son's a rapist who has yet to get what is coming to him."

"He didn't do anything to that little bitch!"

The Punisher made a habit of not losing his temper, but hearing the insult that was directed at Lacee West set off something inside him. Keys didn't see so much as he felt the stone like right hook connect with his jaw. The force would've take him off the chair had it not been bolted to the ground.

"That 'little bitch,' as you called her, has a name. Because of your son and his friends, she will never have a normal life. She is scarred for life due to their actions and you protecting him by hiring men to kill me makes you just as culpable."

"You'll never find him, Castle!" Keys roared, spitting at the Punisher but falling short.

"I never asked where he was, but that's a good place to start."

"Fuck you!"

Castle bent down and opened a toolbox that was at Keys' feet. From out of the box came a claw hammer and nails. Castle took a nail and held it at the philanthropist's left knee before driving it in with the hammer. The high-pitched shriek of agony filled the room, followed by Keys' rapid breathing to take his focus off the pain that consumed him.

"I was raised Catholic and once I managed to see The Passion of the Christ. It was the closest one can ever get to living the Crucifixion. Like so."

Castle hammed another nail, this time in Keys' right knee.

"Trenton! He's in Trenton with John Saint!"

"Thank you. Now do the world a favor."

"What's that?"

"Die," Castle replied, driving a final nail dead center into Keys' forehead.

So, Wade Keys was being protected by the Eternal Sun Yakuza. For Frank, this was an interesting development. But in his career as the Punisher, interesting meant that things would get a whole lot worse before they got better, especially if Jigsaw was now involved. Most likely, the young rapist would be holed up at one of the crime boss' clubs that belonged to his late father, surrounded by Eternal Sun wiseguys armed to the teeth.