As one of the apex predators standing at the very top of the criminal food chain, Kingpin had begun to feel a faint but unmistakable sense of unease.
Daredevil was certainly irritating, but he was ultimately an idealist who clung stubbornly to his rule against killing.
To Kingpin, someone like that posed no truly serious threat.
That was why he'd never felt particularly compelled to eliminate Daredevil immediately.
Instead, he'd approached their conflict with an almost leisurely attitude.
There was no hurry. He could afford to toy with the man.
Deep down, Kingpin even entertained a few more ambitious possibilities.
Perhaps, with enough dirty tricks and psychological pressure, he could drive Daredevil into a desperate corner and eventually force the vigilante to submit to his authority.
But the mysterious individual responsible for the massacre at Pier Nine was entirely different.
Not only had this stranger killed Kingpin's own men, he'd also slaughtered the entire group of Russians involved in the transaction.
Such behavior demonstrated a frightening disregard for consequences.
Even Kingpin couldn't help feeling wary of someone so utterly reckless.
There was an old saying: the timid feared the strong, the strong feared the ruthless, the ruthless feared those who didn't value their lives, and even those people feared someone who was completely insane.
In Kingpin's eyes, the mysterious perpetrator of the Pier Nine massacre belonged firmly in that final category.
A madman.
And nothing frightened or disgusted Kingpin more than a powerful individual he couldn't control.
Someone with extraordinary strength, no apparent restraints, and motives that remained entirely unknown was like a venomous snake lurking in the darkness.
At any moment, it might strike and deliver a fatal bite.
Therefore, Kingpin decisively chose to attack first.
He would mobilize every legitimate resource and connection at his disposal, using his public influence to portray the mysterious stranger as a terrifying serial killer who murdered people indiscriminately.
If the campaign succeeded, the resulting public pressure would force his enemy to reveal himself.
The man would be dragged out of the shadows and into the spotlight, just as Kingpin himself was constantly exposed to public scrutiny.
And once that happened...
Kingpin would eliminate him with overwhelming force!
"Understood, boss!"
Having received his orders, Bullseye bowed respectfully and withdrew from the room.
Only after leaving Kingpin's presence did he allow the admiration and excitement hidden deep within his eyes to surface.
He was fascinated by this mysterious individual.
No.
Fascinated wasn't quite the right word.
It was more like the anticipation of finally meeting someone whose mind was remarkably similar to his own.
To Bullseye, a genuine psychopath with a deeply antisocial personality, the stranger's methods of killing possessed an undeniable artistic quality.
He even suspected that, like himself, this mysterious person was a true artist of murder!
The thought filled Bullseye with excitement.
But it also stirred an intense desire to kill.
If he could personally murder an artist whose tastes resembled his own, the pleasure he experienced would surely reach unimaginable heights.
As he'd often thought...
That would be even better than sex!
Bullseye faithfully carried out Kingpin's orders, and public opinion rapidly began shifting.
Because Peter hadn't left behind a single photograph or useful clue during his killing spree, the media needed some convenient way to identify him.
The journalists working under Kingpin also wanted a sensational name that would attract attention and increase their audiences.
In the end, they saddled Peter with the thoroughly unimaginative nickname:
The Dockside Butcher.
Before long, newspapers and television broadcasts throughout New York—and even across the United States—were flooded with reports about the Dockside Butcher.
...
Lunchtime, Midtown High School cafeteria.
The television in the dining area was broadcasting the midday news.
Naturally, the topic was still the bloody incident at Pier Nine.
A supposed criminal psychology expert appeared onscreen, delivering his analysis directly to the camera.
"Although most media outlets have described this incident as a case of criminals turning on one another, I can assure you, as a professional criminal psychologist, that the situation is far more complicated."
"The true killer was someone else entirely!"
"Furthermore, every individual who died at Pier Nine was killed by that same person. The enormous amount of cash that disappeared from the scene provides additional evidence supporting this conclusion!"
"Since we haven't obtained any biological information that could identify the suspect, I've chosen to refer to him as the Dockside Butcher."
"Based on the evidence remaining at the scene, we believe the Dockside Butcher is an adult male standing approximately five feet eleven inches or taller, weighing more than 150 pounds, and displaying severe antisocial personality traits."
"He enjoys the act of killing and takes pleasure in brutally murdering people weaker than himself."
"This individual poses a serious threat to the safety of every resident of New York City."
"We must apprehend him as quickly as possible. Otherwise, he may carry out further indiscriminate killings throughout the city..."
'The Dockside Butcher? Seriously?'
Watching the television, Peter couldn't resist complaining inwardly.
'What a terrible nickname.'
'This has to be the least imaginative generation of journalists I've ever seen.'
Even something like the Harbor Phantom or the Saint of Pier Nine would have sounded more distinctive than the painfully generic Dockside Butcher.
Unlike Peter, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, Gwen was visibly troubled after hearing the report's description of the massacre.
Her delicate eyebrows drew together.
"That guy's way too cruel..."
"Even if those people were criminals, nobody deserves to have their life treated like that."
'It wasn't torture!'
Peter nearly protested aloud.
Those gangsters hadn't even had time to understand what was happening before he'd destroyed their heads or torsos with a single punch.
They'd gone straight into the kind of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep that babies enjoyed!
It was practically more comfortable than euthanasia!
Still chewing his sandwich, Peter finally spoke in a slightly muffled voice.
"Personally, I don't see a problem with what he's doing, as long as he doesn't hurt innocent people."
"If anything, wouldn't the gruesome state of those criminals' bodies serve as a warning to other criminals?"
"Before, they probably believed they could get away with anything as long as they weren't caught."
"And even if the police arrested them, they could always use money and connections to get themselves released and go right back to committing crimes."
"But now there's someone out there who's genuinely dangerous."
"Next time those people think about committing a crime, they'll have to consider the consequences a little more carefully."
Peter swallowed his food before adding, "They might be able to exploit loopholes in the law, but the Butcher won't show them any mercy."
Gwen stared at him.
She'd never considered the issue from that perspective before.
Now that Peter had explained his reasoning, she had to admit that it wasn't entirely without merit.
"Well... maybe you've got a point."
"But I still think this guy is taking things way too far!"
"Anyway, if I ever had that kind of power, there's no way I'd behave like him."
Gwen made the declaration with absolute conviction.
Peter merely nodded without commenting.
'Well, with me around, you really can afford to stay a sweet little neighborhood spider hero.'
While the two were talking, the television broadcast suddenly switched to another segment.
A bald, heavily built man wearing an expensive tailored suit appeared onscreen.
It was Kingpin.
Or, to use his public name, Wilson Fisk.
The uncrowned ruler of New York's criminal underworld now wore an expression of profound grief and compassion.
"I am deeply shocked and saddened by the appearance of the individual the media has named the Dockside Butcher."
"Such barbaric and bloody behavior is a direct attack on the civilization and social order of our great city."
"To help bring this dangerous individual to justice as quickly as possible, I am personally donating one million dollars to the New York Police Department to assist in upgrading its equipment."
"Furthermore, I am offering an additional reward of one million dollars for information that leads to the discovery of the Dockside Butcher's true identity."
The moment that announcement was made, the entire cafeteria erupted in excitement!
One million dollars!
For a group of high school students, it was an almost unimaginable amount of money!
Bzzzz!
Bzzzz!
While everyone was still excitedly discussing the Dockside Butcher, the cafeteria windows suddenly began vibrating violently.
One pane of glass even shattered for no apparent reason.
At that exact moment, a student burst through the cafeteria doors, his face flushed with excitement.
He shouted at the top of his lungs.
"GUYS! HUGE NEWS!"
"The Manhattan Bank just east of the school is being robbed!"
Read more & join member at patreon(.)com/Lestusk