A secret base of unknown name.
At this moment, ten brawny men with bulging muscles and fierce, wolf-like eyes were surrounding a bald man whose muscles were just as swollen, his physique as solid as an iron tower.
"Kill!"
One of the brawny men roared, and the other nine let out furious shouts as they charged toward the bald tower of muscle in the center.
A primal and savage human battle unfolded.
There was no magic, no aura, no superpowers — only the most brutal collision of fists against fists, bones against bones.
Bang!
The bald iron tower's strength was simply overwhelming. With just a body-to-body collision, one of the brawny men was sent flying as if hit by a speeding car.
He was flung more than ten meters away, crashing to the ground like a human cannonball, and instantly fell into a pool of blood, losing all combat ability.
But this tragic "car crash" did not draw the attention of the other fighters.
Stimulated by the smell of blood, the intensity of the battle did not decrease — it grew even more bloody and savage.
Despite being built like an iron tower, the bald brawny man was surprisingly agile.
He moved like a leopard, weaving among the nine remaining men like a king at the top of the food chain.
Ah!
One muscular man made a mistake, and the bald iron tower seized the opening. His hand shot out like a claw — like a blue dragon extending its talons — and with a single swipe, five bloody gashes appeared across the man's abdomen.
Blood gushed out, and within seconds, the man lost all combat ability.
"Kill!"
The remaining eight men fought even more desperately. Today, it would be either their death or his.
One minute, three minutes, five minutes—
The battle finally ended. All ten brawny men lay sprawled on the ground, some with broken arms or legs, and some so badly injured that their White bones were exposed.
Meanwhile, the iron-tower-like man who had been surrounded by all ten of them stood in the middle, drenched in blood.
But not a single drop was his own.
A sharp-eyed henchman stepped forward and respectfully offered a White towel.
This bald iron tower was not an unknown figure — he was the underground emperor whose mere stomp could make all of New York tremble: Kingpin.
Unlike Tony Stark — wealthy beyond measure, connected in politics and the military, someone who could even influence presidential elections and wield unmatched financial power — Kingpin was someone the truly powerful considered unpresentable, a dog that could be butchered at any time.
The only reason he was tolerated was because Kingpin was "sensible," paid generous tributes every year, and knew his boundaries.
But in the criminal underworld, a single command from Kingpin could unleash a bloodstorm.
Wiping off the blood with the White towel, Kingpin casually asked, "What happened to that deal in Hell's Kitchen last night?"
Even though his tone was light, the atmosphere instantly turned icy, and countless people trembled.
A man who had been standing by with a forced smile hurried over.
"Boss, I've investigated everything. According to our informant at the police station, the reason last night's deal failed was because a superhero named Hawkeye interfered."
The man, shaking, reported every detail he had gathered.
Having messed up this deal, he feared that if Kingpin was displeased, he would end up feeding the sharks in the Gulf of Mexico.
"Hawkeye?"
Kingpin frowned. First the pest Daredevil, then the butcher Punisher — constantly ruining his business.
Now another Hawkeye popped up out of nowhere? Did they really think he was a soft persimmon anyone could squeeze?
"That…"
Seeing Kingpin's growing irritation, the small leader panicked.
My Lord was clearly in a foul mood, and there was no telling when he might unleash his anger.
Especially since Hawkeye had left him a message — cold sweat streamed down the small leader's back.
"Hmm?"
Seeing him tremble, Kingpin spoke, "Hawkeye left a message for me, didn't he? Say it. I won't get angry."
"Yes, My Lord!"
Hearing those words, the small leader sighed with relief. With this assurance, he felt like he had received a golden token of protection.
"Boss, Hawkeye said to transfer five hundred million U.S. dollars to this account within seven days, otherwise—"
The small leader glanced up at Kingpin. Seeing no visible anger, he continued, "Otherwise, he'll take your head."
"Take my head?"
Kingpin repeated calmly, expressionless, as if the threat had nothing to do with him.
This made the small leader even more terrified — serving a king was like accompanying a tiger, and My Lord's thoughts were becoming more and more unpredictable.
"You may leave."
Kingpin waved his hand, and the small leader immediately felt as if he had been pardoned.
He survived. He actually survived.
He felt like crying. He had botched yet another one of My Lord's deals, yet My Lord still gave him another chance.
From now on, he would work diligently and never again give those meddling pests any openings.
After he left, Kingpin beckoned. A henchman stepped forward.
Kingpin said, "He's botched three deals in a row, costing me over a hundred million. I don't want him seeing the Sun tomorrow."
"As you command, My Lord."
Right after him, two more suit-clad henchmen walked out.
Then, another sharply dressed man entered.
Unlike the trembling subordinates, he was calm.
"Wilson, everything has been fully investigated. Frank Amick is dead — killed inside his heavily guarded base. According to police files, Frank's bodyguards were first shot with arrows, then finished off with gunfire."
"Arrows? Hawkeye."
Cold light flashed in Kingpin's eyes. "Lester, after Daredevil and Punisher, yet another pest appears, calling himself Hawkeye. But he's different from the other two — he's greedy. Extremely greedy. And that will be his downfall. Here's what we'll do—"
Kingpin revealed his plan.
You want Kingpin's money, right?
Then come and trade your life for it.
Lester — known as Bullseye — was Kingpin's top assassin, his skills almost maxed out. He could tear open someone's throat with a playing card, spit out a tooth to pierce a skull, or flick a toothpick out a window to kill someone 91 meters away.
He was one of Kingpin's strongest trump cards — a major reason Kingpin's "empire" existed at all.
Kingpin trusted Bullseye immensely.
This time, Hawkeye must not return alive.
After finalizing the plan, Bullseye left.
Kingpin and Bullseye only knew that "Hawkeye" had infiltrated Frank's base, but not the details.
If they knew that even a barrage of gunfire and Rockets couldn't take him down, they might not be so confident.
Just then, Kingpin's phone vibrated.
When he saw the name "Vanessa," all the coldness vanished, replaced by a warm, gentle smile.
"Will, are you still busy?"
Wilson Fisk replied softly, "I'll be back soon."
Anyone who saw the ruthless Kingpin look so gentle would have their jaw drop.
...
80 power stones 2 extra chapters
Over 100, 3 extra chapters