Fisk 2: Chapter 2: Mr.
Fisk A shrill scream pierced the silence of the alley.
Only then did his men snap out of it; they began making bizarre hand gestures as ominous energy fluctuations rippled through the air.
On the other side, Jimmy’s Gang hurriedly pulled out their handguns, their dark muzzles all aimed at Kara.
Fireballs accompanied by heatwaves and bullets tearing through the air swept toward her from two directions simultaneously.
Kara simply tilted her head slightly.
Under Super Speed, the trajectories of those attacks were as clear as slow motion.
She dodged them with ease by a hair’s breadth and then took a deep breath— “Hooo—!!” A surge of frigid Freeze Breath erupted from her mouth, instantly sweeping through the entire alley.
The flickering fireballs were frozen in mid-air, maintaining their exploding forms; the flying bullets were embedded in ice crystals; the two gangs, still in their attacking or terrified poses, had already been turned into ice sculptures.
Kara walked toward Jimmy, the only one she had deliberately avoided, who was now slumped on the ground.
She needed a guide.
“Take me to see Kingpin.” She looked down at the shivering man, her voice devoid of any warmth.
“M-Miss…” Jimmy’s teeth chattered, his words almost incoherent.
“I…
I’m not with Kingpin’s gang…
I’m just a small-timer, how could I possibly know where that gentleman is…” Kara raised her arm and lifted the limp Jimmy completely off the ground.
She tilted her head and smiled at him, a smile that seemed somewhat bright even in the dim light: “You don’t know?
Then how do you dare come to his territory for this kind of deal?
Aren’t you afraid Kingpin will throw you into the river to feed the fish?” “Miss, I really…” “Crack.” The crisp sound of a bone snapping cut off Jimmy’s defense.
Kara expressionlessly broke one of his arms.
She had no interest in playing a Q&A game.
“Ah—!!
Fisk Tower!
Top floor!
He’s in the top floor office!” Jimmy’s face was contorted with pain, sweat pouring down like rain, and he spoke so fast he was almost unintelligible.
“Kingpin…
Mr.
Kingpin has a meeting with the Mayor today!
All of Hells Kitchen’s attention is on that!
That’s why I dared to sneak in for a deal!
Those bastards from the Red Hood…
only in Kingpin’s territory do they not dare to mess around!
I’m telling the truth!
It’s all true!” Kara let go, letting him fall to the ground, and patted his face, which was deformed by pain and fear, with satisfaction: “If you’d said so earlier, it would have saved us both the trouble.” She was pondering how to deal with this floor of “ice sculptures”—maybe she should make an anonymous call to the NYPD?—when a dull thud of cracking ice suddenly came from behind her.
Bang!
A ball of searing fire smashed hard against her back!
The violent impact sent her flying, slamming her into the nearby concrete wall, causing bricks and stones to crumble down.
A strange, stinging pain came from her back—she was actually injured?
The Red Hood leader, whose hand she had cut off, had actually managed to forcibly break through the freezing using some kind of magic.
Now he was kneeling on one knee, his remaining hand raised, with ominous dark red energy swirling in his palm.
Seeing this, Jimmy scrambled to his feet and ran toward the alley entrance without looking back, not forgetting to turn around and fire two shots wildly at Kara during his escape.
The bullets hit her body, only producing a few sparks.
Jimmy was terrified out of his wits and ran even faster.
Kara stood up straight from the brick debris, her heart filled with uncertainty.
Bullets, cosmic rays, extreme cold, and high temperatures couldn’t harm her, but this strange “magic” attack could actually make her feel pain?
There was no time to think.
The Red Hood leader was chanting something, and the energy in his palm became increasingly violent.
Super Speed!
The World instantly fell into stagnation.
The falling dust, the corner of Jimmy’s clothes fluttering as he ran, the distorted red light gathering at the tip of the opponent’s staff…
everything was as if the pause button had been pressed.
This was the first time Kara had been truly injured since gaining her abilities.
A strange surge of anger churned in her chest, and her cheeks flushed slightly due to the emotional fluctuation.
She stared intently at that face frozen in a hideous, cursing expression.
Her eyes began to get hot, burning.
Blazing Heat Vision shot out!
In that near-stagnant time, those two crimson beams were like the most precise laser cutting lines, plunging straight down from the Red Hood leader’s brow, instantly splitting him in two.
When Kara emerged from her Super Speed State— “Squelch—!” A clean sound of separation rang out, and the man’s body, along with the red robe he wore, split neatly into two halves and fell to the left and right.
The cut was charred black, and not even much blood splashed out.
Kara stood in place, her slender body trembling imperceptibly.
She had killed someone.
Even though the opponent was a drug dealer and an enemy who wanted her life, the physical discomfort and psychological emptiness brought by ending a life with her own hands were still clear and sharp.
She took a few deep breaths of the cold night air to suppress the nausea in her throat.
The magic fireball just now had proven that this type of supernatural power could pose a threat to her.
Before figuring out the details, using Heat Vision to solve the caster instantly from a distance was the safest choice.
It was a pity Jimmy got away.
But there were more important things now.
Enduring the nausea, she crouched down and quickly searched the corpse that had been split in two.
Besides a few thousand dollars in cash, she only found a parchment invitation with a special texture in the inner pocket.
On it, in elegant yet slightly eerie cursive script, was written: “You are cordially invited, fellow practitioners of New York’s mystic community, to attend the ‘Midnight Salon’ tomorrow evening.
Location: Lower Manhattan, Seventh Avenue, abandoned multi-story parking garage (Basement Level 3).
Awaiting your arrival.
— Grandma Enya” A gathering of the magic World?
Kara carefully put away the invitation.
Her resistance to magic was clearly weak, which was a fatal flaw.
To understand or even defend against magic, contacting this circle was the most direct path.
Moreover, she had always been curious about the “mysterious.” Her experiences in Europe during high school—seeing that “White Knight” who had single-handedly taken down dozens of armed thugs under unusually bright moonlight—had left her deeply shocked.
She had also leafed through some obscure ancient books and vaguely knew the name “Kamar-Taj,” but she could never find a way in.
As for the location of “Kamar-Taj,” even the authors of those books probably didn’t know where it was.
Right now, this blood-stained invitation was like a key.
She decided to go and take a look tomorrow night.
Pulling back her thoughts, Kara picked up the suitcase full of cash, walked out of the alley, and headed toward Fisk Tower.
The building wasn’t the tallest in New York, at least far less so than that flamboyantly designed Stark Tower.
Kara walked into the lobby and went straight to the front desk.
“Hello, I’m looking for Mr.
Fisk.” Her tone was flat.
The receptionist glanced at her—a beautiful girl in an ill-fitting old coat who looked very much like a student—and doubt appeared in her eyes: “I’m sorry, Mr.
Fisk does not receive visitors without an appointment.” Kara didn’t say anything; she just gently placed that dark red hooded robe, its unique texture still stained with blood that hadn’t fully dried, onto the polished counter.
The receptionist’s gaze changed instantly.
He immediately picked up the internal phone and said quickly in a low voice: “Boss, there’s a…
young lady downstairs who wants to see you.
She brought a robe of a high-ranking Red Hood member with fresh blood on it.” There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone before a brief instruction was given.
“Miss, please come this way.” The staff’s attitude became respectful as he led her toward an exclusive elevator that required a special key card to activate.
The elevator went straight to the top floor.
The doors opened to reveal a vast space akin to a monarch’s hall.
With its high vaulted ceiling, expensive artwork, and thick sound-absorbing carpets, it was less an office and more a small palace.
At the end of the hall, behind a massive high-backed chair facing away from the entrance, half of an enormous head silhouette reflected the light from the ceiling lamps.
“That Red Hood, is it yours?” A low, deep voice with a metallic quality came from behind the chair.
“No.
I killed its owner and stripped it off him,” Kara answered directly and calmly.
The chair slowly turned around.
A giant—that was Kara’s most immediate impression.
Standing over two meters tall, he had a massive body that was less fat and more a mountain of rock-solid muscle and fat.
Just sitting there, he was like an impenetrable wall, radiating a heavy sense of pressure.
He wore a custom white suit and held a cane topped with gold in his hand, his bald head gleaming under the lights.
“You?
Killed a high-ranking member of the Red Hood?” The corner of Kingpin’s mouth curled into a cold smile.
“Those people may be few, but their ‘little tricks’ are very troublesome.
Even my most elite tactical teams would have to pay a price to take one down.” “They have their tricks,” Kara said, meeting his scrutinizing gaze without flinching, “and I have my ways.” “Hahaha…” Kingpin laughed, his laughter echoing loudly in the empty hall.
“Interesting.
I am Wilson Fisk, though some call me ‘Kingpin’.
So, this…
young lady with extraordinary ‘ways’, how should I address you?” “Kara.
Kara Danvers.” She used the surname of that Supergirl from the comics; the name also happened to be similar to her original Chinese name.
“Miss Danvers.” Kingpin nodded slightly, his thick fingers stroking the lion’s head on the top of his cane.
“So, what brings you to see me?” “I need an identity.
A legal, clean U.S.
citizen identity that can withstand any background check,” Kara said, getting straight to the point.
“I’ve just ‘arrived’ in New York, and currently…
I’m undocumented.” “Oh?” Kingpin leaned forward slightly, a subtle movement that brought even stronger pressure.
“A smart choice, knowing to come to me.
But, Miss Danvers, why should I help you?” “Five hundred thousand dollars.” Kara placed the suitcase on the floor and opened a crack, revealing the neatly stacked green bills inside.
“It should be enough to buy an identity.” “Haha!
The money is certainly enough.” Kingpin’s laughter grew louder, yet it carried no warmth.
“But haven’t you heard the rumors about me?
What’s to stop me from simply taking your money and sending you to one of my clubs that needs a fresh, beautiful face?
In New York, a…
unique and charming young girl like you is worth a lot of money.” His gaze swept over Kara like he was evaluating cargo, filled with undisguised calculation and coldness.
“You can certainly try, Mr.
Fisk,” Kara’s voice turned cold.
“But if you do that, before you can send me anywhere, you will meet the God of Death first.” Kingpin slowly stood up.
When he was fully upright, that mountain-like pressure almost became physical.
He looked down at Kara and said slowly: “Miss, I’m curious, how do you plan to make me meet the God of Death?” Kara didn’t answer.
She just moved.
An instant before the surrounding bodyguards could even react, she had appeared like a ghost beside a guard next to Kingpin.
The handgun at the man’s waist had somehow ended up in her hand, its cold muzzle firmly pressed against Kingpin’s gleaming bald head.
The entire process was so fast it was nothing but a blur.
Kingpin’s pupils suddenly contracted.
A Mutant?
Or some other kind of superhuman?
Alarm bells rang in his heart, but his facial muscles didn’t move an inch.
“Ordinary bullets have limited effect on me,” he said deeply, not bluffing; his incredibly dense muscle layer could indeed withstand most handgun rounds.
“Is that so?” Kara’s fingers exerted a bit of force.
“Creeak…
Bang!
Pop pop!” The steel handgun was easily crushed and deformed in her slender white palm.
The unfired bullets in the chamber exploded from the intense pressure, making several muffled pops in her palm, yet they couldn’t even scratch her skin.
Kingpin sat back down in his large chair, his movements slow and deliberate.
He waved his hand, signaling the bodyguards who had instantly pulled their guns on Kara to lower their weapons.
“It seems we are indeed discussing a deal, Miss Danvers.” His tone returned to its previous calm, even taking on a hint of feigned gentleness.
“Making too much of a scene in New York is no good for a…’special individual’ like you, is it?
There are always agencies, like S.H.I.E.L.D., that love to keep an eye on people like you.” Mutants?
S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Kara silently noted these terms but remained impassive on the surface.
“So, Mr.
Fisk, have we reached a consensus?
You handle the identity for me, and I pay.
A clean and straightforward transaction is good for everyone.” Kara let go, and the deformed gun parts clattered onto the carpet.
Kingpin stared at her for a few seconds before finally smiling again, this time with a bit more sincerity.
He clapped his hands.
In less than two minutes, a man who looked like a secretary wearing gold-rimmed glasses quickly delivered a thick manila folder.
Kara took it and flipped through it quickly.
Inside was a complete set of identity documents: a birth certificate, a Social Security card, a New York State driver’s license, several initial cards from different banks, and even a clean criminal record certificate.
All the documents were well-made with clear stamps and looked flawless.
The photo on the file was exactly how she looked now, clearly a still taken from the building’s internal surveillance footage.
“Very efficient.” Kara tucked the folder away.
Kingpin just smiled.
Kara pushed the suitcase over, said no more, and turned toward the massive floor-to-ceiling window.
Under the stunned gazes of the bodyguards, she grabbed the heavy curtain and yanked it aside, then unlatched the window lock, letting the night wind howl into the hall.
“Pleasure doing business, Mr.
Fisk.” Before she finished speaking, she had already leaned back, her figure instantly swallowed by the glittering night view of Manhattan as she vanished.
Kingpin walked to the window, overlooking the brightly lit city below that looked like a flowing stream of gold and silver.
The smile on his face gradually faded, becoming deep and inscrutable.
“Boss, do we need to leak this ‘Kara Danvers’ information to the Mayor’s office, or…
over to S.H.I.E.L.D.?” A trusted henchman approached and asked in a low voice.
“No need.” Kingpin stroked his cane, his gaze still fixed outside the window.
“Our Mr.
Mayor will soon be overwhelmed with his re-election campaign; he won’t have time to worry about a Mutant girl who suddenly appeared.
As for S.H.I.E.L.D….
I’m not familiar with them.” He turned around, glanced at the red hooded robe on the floor with its now dark-brown bloodstains, and thought again of Kara’s inhuman speed and strength, as well as her cold eyes when she crushed the handgun.
“The waters of New York are going to get muddy again.” He whispered to himself, his mouth widening into a mirthless grin, revealing his signature gold tooth.
“Now this is interesting.”