"The conditions you've offered are utterly laughable to a god." The evil god scoffed with disdain, his voice fracturing into countless echoes—hundreds of Lokis speaking in unison—so that even Kingpin couldn't tell which was real.
"A god?" Kingpin repeated, his brow twitching. Even he, the self-proclaimed Emperor of the Underworld, renowned for his arrogance and tyranny, was momentarily taken aback. His pride was well-earned; his power stretched across America's criminal world, giving him reason to be so bold.
But this stranger before him—this man who called himself a god—had nothing more than tricks of illusion to his name. How dare he?
Kingpin let out a low, humorless laugh, his fingers tightening around his cane. "I'm curious… who exactly gave you the audacity to talk to me like that?"
Loki's expression darkened. For the God of Mischief, this was beyond irritating. In the few thousand years since he last walked Midgard, had everyone truly become atheists?
No one bowed. No one trembled in reverence. Instead, they questioned him—him!
This godforsaken realm had grown so cynical that even divinity couldn't get a proper reception.
How was he supposed to conduct business under such conditions?
Ironically, Kingpin was meant to be his first pot of gold—the cornerstone of his grand plan. Whether he could establish himself in this new age depended on this meeting.
But the mortal's defiance was testing even his divine patience. Loki rubbed his temples, his usual composure cracking as frustration seeped through his grin.
Seeing the tension rise, Bullseye quickly stepped forward to smooth things over.
With a grin, he tapped the target tattoo on his forehead. "Kingpin, I know you're the big man around here, but ever since Tony Stark came out as Iron Man, you've had your share of headaches. Superheroes are popping up everywhere—and I've helped you handle more than a few of them, haven't I?"
He leaned forward slightly, voice lowering. "Given the way things are going… can't you see where the world's headed?"
Kingpin fell silent.
Bullseye wasn't wrong. Lately, superpowered beings had multiplied like wildfire.
Leaving aside the Hand, there were already enough do-gooders causing him trouble: Daredevil, the Punisher, Spider-Man…
All of them strong. All of them troublesome.
And all of them—thanks to his empire—his enemies.
No matter how many talented people he recruited, he couldn't stop wondering when someone stronger, faster, or more righteous would appear to bring it all down.
Even his alliances with the Hand came at a cost—he always had to give up more than he should.
Kingpin's rise to power had never been based on brute force alone; it was his foresight and shrewdness that kept him on top.
And his instincts told him one thing clearly: the future belonged to the superhuman.
Those who couldn't adapt would be swept away.
Bullseye understood this truth too—that was why he spoke up.
But even so, this supposed god didn't inspire much confidence.
Draped in gold, with antlered horns on his head, he looked more like a costumed lunatic than a divine being.
"Illusions alone aren't enough to earn my cooperation," Kingpin said coldly. "Tell me—what makes you think you deserve to stand before me?"
Loki smirked, casting a sidelong glance at Bullseye. His smile deepened into something both charming and cruel.
"What makes me think I can?" he repeated softly.
"I am Loki, son of Odin, the God of Mischief, of Asgard. Behind me stand the Aesir—rulers of the Nine Realms. Does that background qualify me?"
Kingpin froze.
He had assumed Loki was another delusional self-proclaimed god, but the way he spoke—the weight behind his words—made him hesitate.
A man could bluff, yes, but the kind of madness in Loki's eyes… that was something else.
He'd seen plenty of liars in his life. Lies could be exposed.
Those who dared deceive him were either supremely confident—or completely insane.
In either case, the truth would reveal itself soon enough.
If Loki was a fraud, Kingpin would crush him.
But if he truly was divine… then this partnership could be his path to godhood on Earth.
Kingpin finally spoke, his voice low and measured. "If you really are a god… then tell me—what is it you want?"
Loki's eyes gleamed with mischief as he began to explain the Trial of the King.
Kingpin's mind immediately began to race. This world had never lacked opportunists, and Odin's sudden move had undoubtedly given countless ambitious people on Earth the chance to choose sides.
Success meant becoming a loyal subject.
Failure meant certain death.
Moreover, Odin had announced that Thor, the God of Thunder, would descend in six months. When that time came, the truth would be revealed—whether Loki was a true god or a false pretender.
A trial of the king… three candidates for the throne of Asgard. Whom should he support?
Kingpin smirked. "Only children make choices. I want it all."
He leaned forward slightly. "If everything you say is true, then tell me—what can you offer me?"
The fact that he had begun to negotiate meant his stance was softening, and Loki, the God of Mischief, naturally saw through it at once.
Unlike Thor, who only cared for strength, Loki was a master at manipulation—he never wavered when making promises, even if they were all lies.
"Submit to me now," Loki said smoothly, "and when I ascend the throne, I will grant you eternal life and limitless power. Midgard shall be yours to rule in my stead."
Ha! The so-called God-King still speaks of eternal life?
Kingpin sneered inwardly but maintained a calm expression, eyes narrowing slightly as though he were considering it.
The biggest issue now was the truth of the matter—but all would be revealed in six months, when the God of Thunder arrived.
The real question was how to invest in the three contenders… and what role he should play.
Kingpin's mind churned with possibilities. Logically, siding with a god was far more profitable than siding with an American politician.
But the other two "gods" had yet to appear. Even if he planned to hedge his bets, he couldn't afford to offend this one.
He bowed slightly, his massive body like a mountain casting a shadow over the arena.
"To receive a god's favor is my greatest honor. Kingpin is willing to serve as your stepping stone on the path to godhood."
See? That's the power of words.
Loki smiled in satisfaction, his illusions fading away. He didn't mind that the man hadn't knelt; after all, he was just a mortal—an uncultured one at that. "You're not bad," he said with a smirk, "unlike some mortals who don't know when to advance or retreat."
At that, he couldn't help but think of Daredevil—that rock in a latrine, as Loki described him, stubborn and foul-tempered both.
But Loki was oblivious to Kingpin's own schemes. The crime lord had already decided to pamper the so-called god for six months—and if the God of Thunder failed to descend by then, he would grind this "god" to dust.
Two men, each plotting against the other, had somehow reached an unspoken agreement.
If Gilgamesh had seen this, he would have shaken his head in disgust.
To be on equal footing with a man like Kingpin—how pitifully narrow-minded my foolish brother has become.
Meanwhile, in the sacred sanctuary of Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One sat cross-legged in meditation. Her calm expression wavered as she sighed softly.
Odin's so-called "trial" had thrown her into great trouble. Loki and Thor alone were problematic enough—but even the God of Light, Gilgamesh, was beyond her comfort.
If such beings are not properly guided, she thought, they will bring catastrophe upon the Earth.
Especially considering the "Holy Grail War" she herself had set in motion millennia ago—an event that had driven countless mages into madness, spiraling into an endless cycle of blood and obsession.
If she hadn't used her immense power centuries later to dismantle the ritual's foundation, Earth would never have enjoyed the fragile peace it now held.