Kingpin was very thoughtful.
He even had someone drive William's car, which was parked at the pier, back to the apartment's underground parking garage.
After reading the message, William continued to drive the Cadillac President One, its tires rolling over the streets of New York.
Inside the car.
The expensive leather and solid wood created an isolated tranquility.
William rested his hand on the steering wheel, feeling the steady and powerful heartbeat of the V8 engine under the hood.
["Fisk Collection Special Security and Risk Hedging Agreement" has been terminated!]
[Client "Wilson Fisk" highly appreciates your service and professional capabilities; the policy has entered the performance phase.]
[Drawing client abilities based on policy value and risk level...]
Here it comes!
[Congratulations, Host, you have gained the ability - "Superhuman Strength (Intermediate)"!]
[Ability fusion in progress... "Superhuman Strength (Basic)" has been upgraded!]
[Superhuman Strength (Intermediate): Your muscle fiber density, bone structure, and bio-electrical conduction efficiency have all been significantly enhanced. You can now easily lift approximately 1500 pounds (about 680 kilograms) of heavy objects, and a full-power punch is enough to shatter reinforced concrete walls. Your physical strength and endurance have surpassed the limits of human physique.]
The moment the text disappeared, an indescribable surge of heat suddenly erupted from his heart!
A... warmth of vitality.
Every muscle fiber in his body began to cheer.
They absorbed this newfound power like dry sponges.
The density of his bones increased, emitting subtle and dense "crackling" sounds, as if undergoing a silent reshaping.
He could even feel his blood flowing a few times faster.
Each heartbeat was like a high-power water pump, pumping power-filled blood to every corner of his body.
"Uh..."
William grunted, an unprecedented feeling of fullness making him involuntarily tense all his muscles.
"Creak--"
The leather steering wheel in his hand let out a groan of protest.
He looked down, only to realize that he had unconsciously gripped it, and five clear finger marks had already been pressed into the metal frame of the steering wheel.
This expensive Cadillac felt as fragile as a toy in his hands.
William quickly released his grip, his heart churning with shock.
This was... Kingpin's power?
No, this wasn't even Kingpin's full power, just a fraction of his terrifying strength.
He now finally understood why a nimble hero like Spider-Man still struggled so much when facing Kingpin.
That was not human strength at all.
That was a monster in human skin.
And now, he too had become a... small monster.
William tried wiggling his fingers, feeling the terrifying power contained within his fingertips.
He had no doubt that with one punch now, he could punch straight through the car's hood.
His previous "Superhuman Strength (Basic)" had given him the confidence to protect himself.
But now, the "Intermediate" level gave him, for the first time in this dangerous World, the true qualification to "destroy."
An unprecedented sense of security enveloped him.
Although this security might only be the difference between his death rate dropping from 100% to 99% when facing those monsters.
But having it is better than not having it!
The Cadillac smoothly entered his underground parking garage.
William turned off the engine but didn't get out immediately.
He leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and sorted through his jumbled thoughts.
The power was in his hands.
The chess piece had been placed.
Danny Rand must have already tipped off Matt Murdock.
The nascent group of Defenders was probably already holding an emergency meeting, discussing how to break out of prison... no, how to rescue someone.
Because of him, Jessica didn't seem to have joined, and White Tiger should be the replacement.
As for him.
William Rodriguez, as one of the "culprits" of this incident, needed to quickly extricate himself.
He was just an insurance salesman!
He raised his hand, looking at his five fingers.
These hands, just a few hours ago, were merely those of an ordinary person; now they contained the power to twist steel plates into pretzels.
He carefully, gently touched the car emblem in the center of the steering wheel with his fingertip.
A subtle metallic crunching sound came.
He immediately withdrew his hand and looked down.
A shallow dent had appeared on the exquisite Cadillac shield emblem.
William's eye twitched.
If he drove this out and Kingpin's subordinates saw it, they might think he was provoking them, saying the car he was given was of poor quality.
Power needs control.
Now was not the time to be complacent.
The night in Hell's Kitchen was destined to be restless.
On Kingpin's side, the agreement was over, and he had both money and goods.
On Madame Hydra's side... he still needed a perfect "performance report."
A report that could reflect his value as a "business consultant," explain why a high-end dinner party turned into a street brawl, and at the same time, clear his name completely.
He began to formulate his words in his mind.
Respected Madame, regarding Mr. Fisk's dinner party and subsequent events, my preliminary assessment is as follows:
One, the target (Wilson Fisk) demonstrated extremely strong crisis management capabilities and resource mobilization efficiency, but his security system had blind spots against 'supernormal single-entity intrusion.'
Two, the local hostile force (Hellcat) exhibited aggressive operational patterns, lacking precise planning, with a controllable threat level.
Three, this unexpected incident provided us with an excellent, zero-cost opportunity for a stress test, successfully acquiring first-hand reaction data of the Fisk Group's core security forces... Hmm, that's how I'll put it.
To package a disaster that almost killed him into a high-value intelligence gathering operation.
This was very professional.
William was quite satisfied with his ability to twist facts.
Just then, his phone, which was on the passenger seat, vibrated abruptly.
He straightened his tie, cleared his throat, letting the sense of power within him settle, and then reached for his phone.
He warned himself to be gentle, to be careful.
This thing wasn't a Cadillac steering wheel; one slip and it would turn into a pile of electronic parts.
He swiped the screen and put the phone to his ear.
"Mr. Rodriguez."
Ophelia Sarkissian's unique voice, carrying a hint of laziness and arrogance, came clearly through the earpiece.
No pleasantries, no preamble, straight to the point.
"Madame."
William's voice was steady, professional, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "I was just preparing a preliminary assessment report on tonight's events for you."
"A report?"
The woman on the other end of the line chuckled, her laughter filled with undisguised mockery.
"I don't need things on paper, Mr. Rodriguez. I only need one answer."
"What about the 'artwork'? Was it affected?"
William's heart leaped into his throat.
"Based on my on-site observation, Mr. Fisk's team successfully protected the asset and transferred it safely. The asset itself is unharmed."
He only stated what he saw.
This was the safest answer.
"Very good."
Ophelia's tone seemed to soften a bit.
"It seems you, as a 'pioneer,' are quite competent."
William was about to breathe a sigh of relief.
He felt that this crisis management should have barely passed.
However, Ophelia's next words instantly froze the blood in his veins.
"By the way, Mr. Rodriguez."
Her tone became very casual, as if she were just chatting.
"My intelligence network tells me that just over an hour ago, a young man wearing a green training suit with glowing fists visited 'Nelson and Murdock Law Office' in Hell's Kitchen."
William's hand, holding the phone, suddenly tightened.
The phone case emitted a strained "creak."
"And what's even more interesting,"
Ophelia's voice took on a cat-and-mouse playfulness.
"Before that, Mr. Iron Fist had just had a late-night tea with you at his dojo."
She paused, giving William enough time to feel the chill that shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
Then, in a dangerous, almost whispered tone, she asked the final question.
"You seem to have made a lot of new friends in New York, Mr. Rodriguez."
"Tell me, what kind of insurance are you selling to those 'nighttime vigilantes'?"
Beep... beep... beep... the call was disconnected.
William remained in the listening posture, unmoving.
The World outside the car window seemed to recede from him at this moment.
His mind was blank.
She knew.
She knew everything.
His meeting with Danny Rand, she knew.
Iron Fist's late-night visit to Daredevil's office, she also knew.
This meant there had always been eyes watching him from behind.
Every action he took, every clever scheme he devised, might have seemed like a clumsy performance to the other party.
The "Superhuman Strength (Intermediate)" he had just acquired, the power capable of punching through concrete walls, seemed so ridiculous, so powerless at this moment.
He could fight Bullseye, he could fight Kingpin's thugs.
But what could he use to fight an all-pervasive, vast intelligence empire?
HYDRA!
William slowly lowered his hand.
He looked down at the phone in his palm.
The poor device had been deformed by his unconscious strength, its screen covered in spiderweb-like cracks.
-------------------------------
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