"I really don't know," Noah replied earnestly, shrugging off George's intense questioning. "God knows why those vampires are chasing me. I'm as clueless as you are."
George frowned, unconvinced, but before he could press further, Noah changed the subject. "What about Gwen? Where is she now?"
"She's safe," George replied reluctantly. "I've already sent her back."
"Good, good," Noah said, walking up to him with an exaggeratedly casual demeanor. "So, what's next? Do I head down to the station for questioning? I mean, considering the chaos—mutants, destroyed buildings, thousands dead or infected—it's a real mess."
Noah gestured toward the destruction around them. The bloodstained streets, the corpses scattered across the ground, and the mangled remains of buildings told a grim story. It was clear that the cost of cleaning up and rebuilding would be astronomical.
George sighed heavily, clearly under pressure. "No need. You can go home for now. We'll summon you if there's anything else."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "That easy, huh?"
George nodded, his face grim. "I just got a call from General Ross. Higher-ups want to use you as a public relations tool. A hero to distract from... other things."
Noah smirked. "Typical. I guess this means no accountability for me?"
"Not exactly," George said, glancing at his notes. "You'll still have to pay a fine for the collateral damage." Before Noah could groan in protest, George added, "But you'll also get a bravery bonus and a medal of honor."
The sheer absurdity of the situation almost made Noah laugh. Heroes saved the day, but then got billed for the cleanup? It was too realistic to be funny.
Before Noah could respond, a deep, commanding voice interrupted. "How about I take care of that fine for our brave superhero?"
Noah turned to see a hulking figure approaching. The man was enormous, over two meters tall, dressed in a crisp white suit stretched tight over his massive frame. A thin cane rested in his hand, though he clearly didn't need it for support.
George's face darkened. "What are you doing here, Fisk?"
Noah hid a smirk. He didn't need an introduction. The man before him was none other than Wilson Fisk—better known as Kingpin. The underground emperor of New York City's criminal world. A man whose name was whispered with equal parts fear and respect.
George attempted to maintain a professional demeanor as he introduced him. "This is Mr. Fisk, a renowned philanthropist and a mayoral candidate."
Noah's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh, a philanthropist, huh? What brings such a good-hearted man to a scene like this?"
Kingpin's smile was as cold as it was calculated. "As a citizen of this great city, I can't stand by while heroes like yourself are left to suffer losses. Allow me to cover the damages. It's the least I can do."
Noah decided to play along. "Why, thank you, Mr. Fisk. Such generosity! With more people like you, New York would be the safest place on Earth."
As the exchange unfolded, reporters nearby eagerly captured the scene. Cameras clicked and microphones recorded every word. By morning, the headline would surely read, "Superhero Noah Teams Up with Philanthropist Fisk to Rebuild New York!"
Kingpin's smile didn't falter. "I've always admired superheroes. Perhaps we could continue this conversation over dinner?"
Noah didn't miss a beat. "Sounds great. How about right now?"
George's expression was priceless—a mix of frustration and resignation. Watching Noah and Kingpin walk away like old friends, he finally broke. "Noah, wait!"
Noah turned, feigning confusion. "Something wrong, Chief? Didn't you say I could leave?"
George's lips twitched as he struggled to form a coherent response. Finally, he muttered, "Just... be careful."
"Of course," Noah replied with mock sincerity. "Take care of yourself too. Oh, and tell Gwen I'll visit soon."
George groaned audibly, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he watched the unlikely duo leave in a sleek black car.
Inside the car, the mood shifted. Gone was the playful banter. Noah's expression turned serious as he addressed Kingpin directly. "So, Mr. Fisk, you didn't invite me along just to talk about philanthropy, did you?"
Kingpin chuckled, the sound deep and menacing. "You're perceptive, Mr. Noah. Yes, I have a proposition. As you know, I'm running for mayor. Your support would be... invaluable."
Noah leaned back, considering his words. "Let me guess. You want me to publicly endorse you? Paint you as the city's savior?"
"Exactly," Kingpin said, his tone smooth. "In return, you'll have my full backing. Resources, connections, anything you need."
Noah's lips curled into a sly smile. "That's a tempting offer. But first, I'll need a sign of good faith. Let's say... fifty million?"
Kingpin's composure slipped, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Fifty million? To see my sincerity?"
"That's right," Noah said, completely unfazed. "You want my help, Mr. Fisk? Prove you're serious."
Kingpin's initial irritation gave way to amusement. This boy had guts. "Very well. You'll have your money. But I expect results, Mr. Noah."
"Don't worry," Noah said confidently. "By the time I'm done, you'll be the most popular mayoral candidate New York has ever seen."
The car pulled to a stop in front of Fisk Tower. As they stepped out, Noah glanced at the towering building, his mind already spinning with possibilities. Kingpin wasn't just a crime lord—he was an opportunity. And Noah knew exactly how to exploit him.
Meanwhile, Camilla, the vampire Noah had recently subdued, joined them as they entered the building. Her presence didn't go unnoticed by Kingpin, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Inside, the atmosphere was electric. Kingpin's henchmen watched Noah warily, unsure what to make of this new "ally."
Noah smiled to himself. The game was on.