At the top of a skyscraper in New York City, inside a massive and luxurious training hall filled with all kinds of exercise equipment, a group of elite fighters from around the world surrounded a towering figure in the center.
Dressed in an expensive white suit with red trousers, his forehead covered in sweat, the man stood like an immovable mountain. He was 2.1 meters tall, weighing around 450 pounds, with a cigar hanging from his mouth. His cold, ruthless face reflected cunning, madness, cruelty, and absolute dominance.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Despite their fear, the fighters roared and charged toward him—only to be sent flying through the air before they could even strike.
"Pathetic."
Standing calmly in the center, Wilson Fisk—better known as Kingpin, the underworld emperor of New York—glared down at the broken bodies around him, his voice cold and merciless.
Though he looked like a massive fat man, underestimating him was a death sentence. Ninety-five percent of his bulk was pure muscle, and his physical strength had reached the very peak of human capability. Even superheroes once found him troublesome.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
A heavy knock echoed at the training hall door. Kingpin's sharp gaze shifted, and he strode to the grand chair at the end of the room, seating himself like a monarch.
"Enter."
The cold command was followed by a suited gangster stepping in, head bowed low, trembling as he addressed the crime lord.
"Boss… New York is in crisis. Meteors and unidentified ships have appeared in the sky. Our scientists say if those meteors fall, the entire world could be destroyed."
Drops of sweat rolled into the man's eyes, but he dared not wipe them. Kingpin leaned back, tapping a thick finger against the chair's armrest, the dull thud echoing through the hall.
The oppressive atmosphere was suffocating. All the fighters from earlier now lay dead on the ground.
"…New York City, always drowning in disaster," Kingpin muttered with a cruel smile. His deep, ruthless eyes glimmered with cold amusement, as though he were already scheming how to use this chaos to expand his empire. The fate of the world? That had nothing to do with him.
"Boss, this time it's serious—our scientists insist—"
Before the man could finish, Kingpin's massive hand clamped around his throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. His blank face and dangerous gaze made the gangster freeze in terror.
"Are you trying to teach me how to run my business?" Kingpin's voice was as cold as death.
The man could only choke and tremble, unable to speak.
Then—Ring! Ring!
A golden phone on the nearby table rang. Kingpin's eyes flicked toward it. Only a handful of powerful organizations had access to that line. He picked up.
"…Who?"
His deep voice carried no emotion, but his mind raced.
"Mr. Fisk, this is Phil Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D. We're in trouble—and we need your help."
If not for the desperate situation, Coulson would never have reached out to the underworld emperor. Kingpin ruled America's criminal underworld and had always been a thorn in S.H.I.E.L.D's side.
"S.H.I.E.L.D? You want me to help evacuate New Yorkers?" Kingpin sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The life and death of ordinary citizens meant nothing to him.
"If you agree, S.H.I.E.L.D will help your organization infiltrate Europe," Coulson offered coldly. He knew that with Kingpin, only deals and power mattered.
"Not enough," Kingpin replied smoothly. "I want S.H.I.E.L.D's help consolidating control over Europe and Japan. I also expect full intelligence on the enemy—powers, abilities, everything."
His greedy grin was like that of a wolf closing in on prey.
"Kingpin, the military can do that too," Coulson snapped, his patience thinning.
"The military? Perhaps before you called me. But now… they can't." Kingpin's cold confidence carried weight. His influence extended into the U.S. government itself—many senators owed their careers to him.
"…Damn it."
Coulson cursed under his breath, his usually calm face hardening. He knew Kingpin wasn't bluffing.
"Fine. Wilson Fisk—S.H.I.E.L.D agrees. But mobilize your forces immediately. Evacuate New York's citizens now!"
Even if it meant bowing to a criminal, Coulson had no choice. The world itself was at risk.
"Agent Coulson," Kingpin said with a sly smirk, "don't forget the information I requested."
Like a victor delivering orders, the crime lord leaned back, savoring his leverage.
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