"F-Five hundred thousand?"
Flint Marko, the future Sandman, felt as if he had been hit head-on by a ton of sandbags; his ears buzzed, and his mind went blank. He gaped, looking up at Kingpin's face, which was stern without being angry, trying to find a hint of a joke.
But there was none. Only a bottomless calm, as if advancing five hundred thousand U.S. dollars was as ordinary as deciding what to eat for lunch.
"Boss..." Wesley, standing beside him, was also slightly startled, but his excellent professionalism quickly allowed him to regain his composure. He quietly confirmed, "Is this an advance directly from the first year's salary? This exceeds our initially drafted advance limit..."
Kingpin's gaze did not even move from Flint, his tone flat but with an unquestionable decisiveness: "His potential is worth this price. Do as I say, immediately."
"Yes, Boss." Wesley no longer had any questions and immediately took out his encrypted communicator to make arrangements.
And Flint remained frozen in place. Five hundred thousand! Not only was it enough to cover the initial treatment costs, but it even covered subsequent rehabilitation and better medication! The immense shock made his whole body tremble slightly, not from fear, but from an emotion he had almost forgotten—hope.
"Mr. Marko," Wesley's voice woke him from his daze, "Please provide your daughter's hospital account information, or any secure account you designate. The funds will be transferred within ten minutes."
Flint fumbled through his worn-out wallet, his fingers uncontrollable due to excitement. He finally managed to find a crumpled piece of paper with the hospital's collection account information, and he handed it to Wesley with trembling hands. Wesley took it, took a picture, and sent the command; a series of actions flowed smoothly.
The next few minutes felt like centuries to Flint. He stood there, clutching the hem of his clothes tightly, head bowed, not daring to look at Kingpin or Wesley, just staring intently at the ground, as if he could see through the floor whether the life-saving money had been sent.
Kingpin also did not speak again. He just walked to the control panel of the assessment room, reviewing the detailed data report about Sandman that the system had just generated. The light of calculation and planning flickered in his sharp eyes. S-Rank potential... material assimilation and manipulation... this was indeed an unpolished gem, worth his heavy investment.
"Beep."
A clear notification sound came from Wesley's communicator. He glanced at it, then said to Flint: "Mr. Marko, five hundred thousand U.S. dollars has been transferred. You can contact the hospital to confirm now."
Flint suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with disbelief. He almost snatched the old flip phone from his pocket—this was his only means of contact with the hospital and Penny. His trembling fingers pressed the speed dial, calling Penny's Doctor.
"Hello? Mr. Marko?" The Doctor's familiar voice came from the other end of the line.
"Doctor! The money... has the money arrived? Penny's treatment fees!" Flint's voice was hoarse and urgent, with a hint of a sob.
"It's here! It just arrived! A full five hundred thousand!" The Doctor's voice also carried obvious surprise and excitement, "Oh my, Mr. Marko, where did you... But this is great! I'll immediately arrange for Penny to be transferred to the special care ward and start the latest targeted therapy! Don't worry, we have hope!"
"Thank you... Thank you, Doctor! Please! You must save her!" Flint choked up, almost incoherent.
The moment he hung up the phone, this weathered man, who had almost never bent under the heavy pressure of life, could no longer control his emotions. He did not wail, but his shoulders shook violently, and hot tears, like a bursting dam, streamed down his rough cheeks, dripping onto the cold, smooth floor, spreading into a small dark stain.
He turned around, facing Kingpin.
Without extra words, Flint Marko, this man with the strength to overturn a tank, expressed his gratitude and loyalty in the most primitive and direct way.
He bowed deeply, almost ninety degrees, to Kingpin.
His body was still trembling slightly from excitement, but he maintained this posture, not rising for a long time.
"Mr. Fisk..." His muffled voice came, with a heavy nasal tone, yet exceptionally firm, "From today on, my life... is yours. Whatever you tell me to do, I will do! Without a second thought!"
This was not a subordinate's compliment to a superior, nor an employee's politeness to a boss. This was a father's oath from the soul, after being pulled from the abyss of despair by a powerful hand.
Kingpin looked at the man bowing deeply before him, his face still devoid of much emotion, but he could feel that the value representing Sandman's loyalty in the system interface (if he could see it) was soaring at an astonishing speed, reaching its maximum.
This was exactly what he needed. Ability could be cultivated, technology could be bestowed, but absolute loyalty, especially in this World, was often more precious than gold.
"Get up, Marko." Kingpin's voice remained steady, "The Hero Association doesn't need you to sacrifice your life. We need you to live, to become stronger, and then to fulfill your duty—to handle crises, to protect those who need protection. This is the best return for you, and for me."
Flint slowly straightened up, wiping his face hard. Although his eyes were still red, a new light, full of hope and strength, now burned in those eyes that had once been somewhat clouded by the struggles of life.
"Yes, Boss!" He straightened his back, his voice resonant. At this moment, he was no longer the Flint Marko struggling at the bottom of society, seeing no tomorrow; he was the Sandman of the Hero Association, a warrior fighting for his daughter, and fighting to repay this profound kindness!
Wesley watched from the side, filled with emotion. He had followed Kingpin for many years and had seen too many people pledge loyalty for money, for power, for fear, but loyalty like Sandman's, forged from the purest gratitude and hope, was something he had never seen before. He vaguely felt that the Boss's seemingly risky five hundred thousand advance might be an investment with an extremely high return.
"Wesley," Kingpin instructed, "Take Marko to complete the formal onboarding procedures, sign the contract, and enter his identity information. Then, arrange for him to undergo a comprehensive physical examination and basic combat aptitude test."
"Yes, Boss."
"Additionally," Kingpin looked at Flint, "Handle your daughter's hospital matters, ensuring she receives the best care. The Association will provide necessary assistance. I'll give you two days to settle in, and then, your first training session will begin."
"Understood, Boss!" Flint nodded vigorously, his eyes full of eagerness.
Kingpin nodded, said no more, and turned to leave the assessment room. His steps were steady and powerful.
In his mind, the system's prompt sounded at the opportune moment:
[Successfully recruited the first potential S-Rank Hero "Sandman". Association members +1.]
[Member "Sandman" initial loyalty has reached MAX.]
[Triggered achievement "Timely Help in Adversity", reward points: 300.]
[Current total points: 520.]
[Hint: The addition of the first core member signifies the Association entering a substantive operational phase. Basic functions of the "Association Construction" section are now available. Please check and plan the development path as soon as possible.]
The corner of Kingpin's mouth finally curved into a barely perceptible arc of satisfaction.
The first employee, in place.
Loyalty, maxed out.
Initial investment, though substantial, with promising returns.
The vast machine of the Hero Association finally welcomed its first core engine.
Next, it was time to make this engine roar and demonstrate its power to the entire World.
He looked at the bustling city outside the window, knowing that soon, this city, and even the entire World, would become accustomed to the name "Sandman," and what he represented—the Hero Association.