Chapter Text
The Kingpin was gone. Wilson Fisk would now rot in a prison cell for the rest of his life along with his fellow compatriots. Peace could now happily be restored to Hell’s Kitchen and perhaps this would lead to a brighter future for all. No more corruption, no more crime, people could walk the streets without fear…that’s what the naïve and foolish would believe.
The rest truly know that Hell’s Kitchen is far from redemption and crime is still rampant. Sure Fisk is behind bars but he wasn’t the only trouble the Kitchen had within its confines. The gang leaders, mob bosses and crime lords are all now fighting with one another to become the next king. And who was to say Fisk would be in prison for good? Criminals manage to walk free from their sentences all the time, all he had to do was strike a few deals with the right people, perhaps grease a few palms, even throw a few names of wanted men in the faces of law officials and he’d find himself a free man in no time.
But for now, it was a becoming a free for all. With Fisk and the four largest crime syndicates shattered, the last remaining scum of the neighborhood were attempting to reap all the benefits and take every territory they could find. And our story begins with one such group lurking within the confines of a small warehouse. More like a small gang, a mix of different types of thugs that were from the remnants of the dead four syndicates. Most of them made themselves comfortable by fiddling with their mixture of weapons or sitting on the rusted crates that once held boat machinery, while the rest kept watch through the dirtied windows of the building and the cracks in the door frames. They definitely were waiting for someone, but the question was who?
“This is retarded,” a rather fidgety man cursed while he picked his teeth. “We’ve been here for a good hour…”
“They’ll be here,” retorted a man reloading a gun. He carried himself with more pride and the others seemed to flinch as he shouted. He obviously was their leader. “Now shut that whole you call a mouth and deal with it.”
“But what if Nick is right?” another thug piped up. He carried the least amount of confidence within the whole team as he kept nervously looking at the windows as if to see someone appear. Fear spewed from his words. “They could have chickened out. Everyone is saying that Kingpin was taken down by some crazy guy all by himself.” The others slightly cringed at the thought. They also seemed to have heard this story and have grown to fear it. “One guy took down his whole empire in less than a month! He’s still out there. I’m shocked that any of the large groups would still be working when-”
“You really believe all that bullshit?!” the leader hollered back turning to his more fearful compatriot “really?! One guy! No one can do that kinda damage! You guys are the biggest dickless pussies I have ever seen. If anything it was those Avenger shits coming back to clean up their mess. You can’t really think that one fuckkin’ guy just came out of nowhere and took down everyone?! The Russians?! The Triad?! The Mob?! The Yakuza?! Oh you guys really believe that bullshit?! There is no way one guy just appeared out of nowhere and took down the Kingpin!”
“I’m afraid I have to tell you that you’re incorrect.” chimed a newcomer entering, being let in by the fellow guardsmen. “The Kingpin was sent to prison by the hands of a man...a powerful one.”
In walked a rather finally dressed man dawning a suit that definitely was above any of these gangsters’ paygrade. He was rather tall, sleek, a wide smug grin piercing his face. He calmly made his way inside accompanied by six other individuals. His guards wore something that a SWAT team would dawn, thus granting a menacing presence and made their leader stand out even more. The grinning man, he was the man the gang was waiting for.
“Your fukkin’ late!” spat the ever fidgeting Nick.
“I like to think FASHIONABLY late. One should try and make a good entrance right?” the grinning man announced with almost a song in his voice.
The lowlife was about to bark more profanities at the shit eating grinner but his leader shot him a venomous look that kept his mouth sealed.
The grinning man turned his gaze back at the leader of this ragtag bunch, “I wouldn’t be questioning the abilities of one man…when you’ve been hired to catch a man who has eluded so many. Don’t worry though, they are two different people, at least, that’s what my sources say.”
“You brought the stuff?” the leader asked gruffly.
“Of course,” The grinning man waved for two of his associates over who silently nodded and proceeded to drag two rather large crates beside the leader’s feet. With a quick snap of the locks, the two gently opened the inside to reveal several intricate looking weapons. “I believe these will be deemed suitable.”
With the opening of the crates, the leader’s own entourage made their way over to inspect the cargo. “There are only twelve. We were promised more than this.” one of them said bitterly.
“Twelve will be more than enough for you and your team.” The man replied with honey in his voice, “I don’t want you to kill the target after all. That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“The deal was we would receive over twenty-five of your weapons!” another spat out already becoming more enraged by the wide grin.
The man’s grin still remained pierced to his face as he replied, “Prove that you can do what you were assigned to do and you’ll receive more weapons. You manage to catch your target, ALIVE, and we will ensure your group becomes the next Kingpins of the city.”
The leader looked at the grinning man with a cold blackened stare. With nothing more to stare at than this annoying grin, he lifted one of the weapons from the crate finding it rather light. Not only was it lighter, but its design was something brand new. Never had he seen such a strangely crafted weapon.
“You trying to fuck us over…?” he growled lowly, “You really think I’m going to agree to a deal where you try and give me some sorta sci-fi bullshit toys?!”
The grinning man just gave a small roll of his eyes with a rather large over the top sigh as he snatched one of the guns from the crate and aimed at a lone wooden crate “Sci-Fi? No my friend. This is reality.” A single shot fired a large laser like blast towards his target, sending the crate flying back with enormous force and letting the contents inside fling about the room like confetti.
“Have you seen what Iron Man shoots from his hands?” the grinning man laughed as the gangsters stared in awe. “This is nearly the same thing, just a more crude design. They are still in the beginning stages of production so what you have here is one of our prototypes.” He gave a small chuckle as he thrusted the gun into the gang leader’s hands. “You’ll be the first to test them in combat. Don’t worry, it’s not going to blow up in your face. It may be crude, but it’s quite durable.”
“….Alright…” the leader gave his group a small nod and his team confiscated the last weapon. He couldn’t help but to stare at the man’s large grin.
“So…you made something like this….” The leader began “something that can take down that menace…yet you have no desire to try and become the next Kingpin?”
“…My dear friend,” The grinning man chuckled, “I have no desire to be part of your and your fellow men’s disputes of power. I just want my target. My reasons for this are my own, much like your reasons to do this battle for your Criminal Throne are your own. I also have no desire to meet this so called ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’.” He turned around gracefully and started walking out the way he came, “from the details I have obtained, the target can be taken down with those weapons, but I’m afraid they won’t stand a chance against the Devil.”