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Wilson Fisk was familiar with victory. He was a patient man, biding his time as his many schemes played themselves out. Everything was lined up and in order, carefully arranged so the dominoes would fall in rich succession. Pieces were discarded, towers were reinforced. Cards were gathered until he was able to deal a masterful hand.
Sometimes the plans took months or years to come to a close, but when they did he was sure to reap the boundless rewards of his labors. There was a reason the underground community had named him ‘Kingpin’. He was the insurmountable piece. The undisputed overlord. Thugs tripped over themselves to earn his good graces and share in his wealth.
On the common enough occurrence, obstacles slowed his plans from taking off of the ground. Sometimes a little too observant neighbor would take note of coincidences, or the pathetic law-enforcers would catch a meeting on camera or track an unlucky employee to one of Fisk’s warehouses. He was familiar with obstacles too, yet he had always been able to keep one step ahead- to carry the bigger guns or control the stronger men. His forces were efficient and burly- just the way he liked them. Smart enough to take orders, strong enough to stay on top of the ring, and greedy enough to stay loyal for the right price. Fisk was raking in the income for only a small sacrifice of a few paychecks or IOU’s. He was the unbowed king of the board.
Until Spider-Man showed up.
Honestly, one would think that a single vigilante in red tights wouldn’t be able to cause so much trouble for a genius such as Fisk, but the bug seemed to have a knack for it. In the time since their first disastrous collision, Spider-Man had sabotaged deals, freed merchandise, helped arrest many of Fisks closest partners, and repeatedly beat the living daylights of his supposedly iron-skinned men. Some had had the idea beaten through their thick skulls that they were no longer quite so safe within the Kingpins pride.
The more Spider-Man showed his stupidly expressive lenses, the more aggravated Fisk became.
Spider-Man was becoming more than just an obstacle. He was an active antagonist, seeking out Fisk and actually being marginally successful. He was a nuisance, and he needed to go.
Fisk began to draw up a new plan. Bribes were made. Traps were laid and defenses shored up. He made five backup plans, which was a low move for his track record, but to crush the bug he was prepared to make some uncomfortable choices.
When the stage was finally set, all Fisk had to do was wait for the star to emerge.
Spider-Man, to his credit, put up an excellent fight, but no one had ever messed with Wilson Fisk and gotten away for long. A man with his power was near impossible to defeat.
Fisk emerged from the cell, the clang of the reinforced door muting the dregs of feeble sounds from within. A grin of vicious delight formed on his face.
Wilson Fisk was familiar with the feeling that came with victory.
This, however, was pure euphoria.