Kingpin's mental calculator was clicking rapidly. In the cramped office, the Arbiter's agility would be neutralized, while a heavyweight tank like himself could leverage pure, crushing force to end the fight in one blow.
The wind howled as his massive fist sped toward Peter's head. Fisk was supremely confident; he had punched through reinforced steel before.
Even if the Arbiter managed to block it, the sheer kinetic energy should rattle his brain. One opening was all Fisk needed to take control of the round.
But reality was a cruel teacher.
Facing the incoming mountain of a fist, Peter didn't budge. He simply extended a single index finger.
Finger Pistol (Shigan)!
Puff!
With a dull thud, the savage grin on Kingpin's face froze. A piercing, soul-shredding pain surged through his arm.
Had he not survived countless gang wars, stabbings, and gunshots in his rise to power, this single moment of agony would have sent him into shock.
Fisk looked down in disbelief. The Arbiter's finger had pierced his fist like a hydraulic nail, driving straight through bone, muscle, and the back of his hand.
Gritting his teeth against the white-hot pain, Fisk withdrew his mangled hand. Without a second's hesitation, the "King of Crime" dropped to his knees.
"I surrender, Arbiter. I am no match for you. I will give you everything—my wealth, my contacts, my empire—just let me leave with my life."
"I swear I will never set foot in New York again."
"If you let me live, I can work for you. I'll expand your territory in other cities, handle the dirt you don't want to touch!"
As a master strategist, Fisk knew when to bow. Dignity, reputation, and wealth were ghosts; only life allowed for a comeback. If he could lull the Arbiter into mercy today, he would spend every waking hour planning how to return this humiliation a thousandfold.
However, Peter wasn't buying.
"You want to live?" Peter looked down at the kneeling giant. "Fine. Survived three of my punches, and I'll let you walk out of New York alive."
Fisk glanced at the framed photo of his family on his desk. He bit his lip and nodded.
"Good. Then... the first punch!"
BANG!
Peter's first strike landed squarely on Fisk's left eye socket. The world went black, then a hot, sticky red as fluid masked his vision. His eyeball burst instantly, a horrific spray of vitreous humor and shattered orbital bone erupting from his face.
Even a hardman like Fisk couldn't take it. He let out a gut-wrenching scream, terror finally overriding his pride. He realized he wouldn't survive a second hit, let alone a third.
"Spare me! Arbiter, you can't kill me!"
"Do you have any idea what happens if I die? I rule Hell's Kitchen with an iron fist. I keep the chaos contained! If I die, the leash is off. My lieutenants will turn into rabid hyenas!"
"The whole city will burn! Gangs will go to war over the scraps, thousands will die, families will be destroyed! You... you will be the cause of all that suffering!"
Seeing that the submission failed, Fisk pivoted to moral kidnapping. He hoped the "heroic" burden of the city's stability would stay Peter's hand. It might have worked on a naive girl like Gwen or a principled lawyer like Matt Murdock.
But Peter? Not a chance.
BANG!
The second punch caved in Fisk's right eye and pulverized the bridge of his nose.
"Do you take me for a fool?" Peter asked coldly.
"There's an old saying: 'Destroy to rebuild.' I'd rather deal with a hundred scattered grains of sand than one solid, rotten brick like you."
"People will die? Why should I care if gang scum kill each other? If I let you live, the people who die every day are the actual innocent ones."
Fisk tried to argue, but his body had failed him. He could only let out a wet, rattling "Heh... heh..." as he gasped for air. He was truly desperate now.
This Arbiter was a nightmare beyond Matt Murdock; in the face of this demon, all schemes and threats were merely punchlines.
"In your next life, try being a decent human being."
Whispering that final advice into Fisk's ear, Peter delivered the third punch.
BOOM!
Fisk's head disintegrated. The massive, headless torso slumped to the floor, the impact making the entire penthouse shudder. The Uncrowned King of Hell's Kitchen was dead.
Peter felt zero guilt. He used the Horse Talisman to cleanse the blood from his hands and activated his Byakugan, scanning the office for loot.
[Detected Deep Green Sacrificable Item: Fisk Family Portrait]
[Description: A photo of Fisk with Vanessa and Richard. It was the only soft spot in his heart. High sentimental and collector value.]
[Sacrifice Reward: 700 Points]
"Sacrifice."
After deleting the photo, Peter found two more things: a hidden wall safe containing the deeds to Fisk's offshore assets and proof of his bribery of high-ranking officials, and an encrypted laptop.
To Peter's genius intellect, the encryption was child's play. As he worked through the code, he made a mental note: I should probably track down Skye—the future Quake. A genius hacker with Inhuman potential would be a top-tier asset...
Once inside the system, he bypassed the ledgers of drug deals and human trafficking. Suddenly, a keyword caught his eye, stopping his scrolling.
The Life Foundation.
The files showed Fisk had been secretly collaborating with them. Fisk provided "volunteers"—homeless people snatched from New York's streets—for illegal biological experiments.
Deep within the logs, he found a more recent entry: The Life Foundation had recently launched a rocket called the Drake.
The ship was scheduled to return to Earth in exactly two weeks.
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