Kingpin's declaration undeniably sent shockwaves through New York's major underworld factions. Confusion reigned—no one could understand why he had made such an unusual move.
What was clear, however, was the seriousness of his decree. Many gangs decided to lie low, wary of taking any action. True to his word, Kingpin's forces cast a wide net, brutally retaliating whenever extraordinary events were involved. Within just two days, over a dozen murders had been committed, each scene marked by Kingpin's bloody insignia.
In several cases, the victims had been beaten to death, a clear sign that Kingpin had taken matters into his own hands.
Realizing he wasn't bluffing, the city's major crime syndicates quickly fell in line. As long as they avoided dealing with anything "extraordinary," they could continue business as usual.
This sudden change in the criminal landscape alarmed S.H.I.E.L.D., especially its director, who was nearly stunned by the developments.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of New York, a luxury car escorted by several black SUVs pulled up to a villa on the west coast. The guards recognized the familiar insignia on the car's front, and the metal gates opened automatically. The car drove down the path toward the villa's garage.
As the rear door of the luxury vehicle opened, Kingpin, dressed in a crisp suit and clutching his cane, stepped out with his usual stoic expression. He entered the villa, but the moment he crossed the threshold into the living room, he and his bodyguards instantly sensed something was amiss.
Sitting on the sofa in the luxurious but supposedly empty living room was someone who should not have been there.
Click!
More than a dozen bodyguards swiftly reacted, drawing their guns and aiming at the intruder's back. One bodyguard raised his fist, preparing to advance, but Kingpin's eyes flashed as he extended a hand, halting the action.
In the stunned silence, Kingpin calmly ordered, "You all, leave."
"Yes."
There was no further explanation for Kingpin's words. The others didn't dare ask questions and quickly left the villa.
Kingpin strode over to the sofa across from the man sitting there, his presence commanding as always. He looked at the man in front of him, dressed in a black trench coat with a single eye staring back.
"Do you know what I hate?" Kingpin growled. "When people act mysterious with me."
"I'm well aware," the one-eyed man replied calmly. "I made sure to prepare for our meeting, Mr. Fisk."
Kingpin's eyes narrowed with ferocity. "What department are you from? FBI? CIA?"
The man leaned back slightly. "I think my authority is far greater than the ones you mentioned. I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D."
"S.H.I.E.L.D.," Kingpin muttered, his expression changing subtly. "From what I've heard, it's a highly secretive organization, operating within the U.S. government, with immense power and global influence. You're responsible for handling extraordinary events."
"Congressman Smoot and the party behind him are well acquainted with you, Mr. Fisk," the man added.
Kingpin's expression grew darker. This stranger had just named some of his most critical connections. If Kingpin didn't understand the threat now, he wouldn't be who he was. The bald man didn't waste time on pleasantries—he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring Kingpin down with his one good eye.
"Believe me," the man said, "I couldn't care less about your criminal activities. What interests me are the two people who nearly brought down your building."
Kingpin smirked. "That's quite interesting. So, what can you tell me about them?"
The man didn't answer directly, but Kingpin could sense his caution. "Are you planning revenge?"
"Who knows," Kingpin replied, neither confirming nor denying it.
The bald man didn't seem to care about Kingpin's motives. In fact, Kingpin's presence helped maintain a certain balance in New York. If he were to fall, the power struggle between the other gangs would undoubtedly ignite chaos. Kingpin, in his own way, was still useful to him.
"If you ever decide to go after them and want revenge, contact me first. I'll take control of your assets—I don't want New York to descend into chaos."
Kingpin wasn't intimidated by the statement. He simply shook his head and raised a finger. "No. For me, understanding my enemies is what matters most. Just because I want to know about them doesn't mean I'll risk everything in pursuit of revenge."
In truth, Kingpin intended to study his opponents. If he discovered their power was within the range of what he could overcome—even at a steep cost—he would have no hesitation in pursuing revenge. But if it exceeded his limits, he wouldn't go looking for a death sentence.
The bald man understood as well.
"As part of our deal, I can tell you that before this, many vampires in New York were slaughtered."
Kingpin's grip tightened on his walking stick at the news. He was powerful and knew much about the hidden world, beyond just the public knowledge of mutants. He was aware of many legendary creatures—undead beings like vampires and werewolves.
He knew about the vampires in New York, though their business interests never overlapped with his. As a result, he'd never had direct dealings with them. However, he was aware of their strength. Vampires, by nature, were faster, stronger, and had sharper reflexes than humans. They were also skilled in combat.
The vampires were undeniably powerful, and even Kingpin avoided provoking them. Yet, these beings had been wiped out by the two individuals in question.
From the way the bald man spoke, it was clear this wasn't just about two people. It suggested an entire organization or force behind them.
Taking a deep breath, Kingpin couldn't shake the memory of those calm, unforgettable eyes. Without overthinking, he made a decision.
"What do you want to know?"
"I want you to describe those two individuals in detail."
"The man was young, maybe seventeen or eighteen, with black hair and sharp features," Kingpin faithfully recalled based on his memory.
Once he had finished his description, the bald man stood up. "Thank you for your assistance."
With that, he left the villa without hesitation.
Kingpin's eyes flickered. Under the shifting light, his face was cast half in shadow, half in light.