After considering his options, Karl made a decision.
He would make Tony Stark owe him a favor.
If Stark could refine advanced bioengineering or super-soldier derivatives, obtaining a perfected enhancement serum in the future would not be impossible.
His current physique was still too weak.
Elementalization protected him, but once his stamina was depleted, he would become vulnerable. The Ice-Ice Fruit itself required gradual mastery. He had barely begun to unlock its true potential.
In One Piece, Admiral Aokiji could freeze vast stretches of ocean.
Karl was still far from that level.
After resting for thirty minutes, he stepped outside, mounted his motorcycle, and pulled on his helmet.
The engine roared to life.
He twisted the throttle fully and shot toward New York City like a white streak across the highway.
He could have traveled through the Shadow Realm.
But tonight, he wanted Kingpin to know:
I'm coming.
If he didn't teach them a lesson, they would never stop.
Fisk Tower
"Boss," Wesley said, lowering his head, "all deployed operatives have lost contact. We've also received reports of a black-and-white motorcycle heading toward Hell's Kitchen. We've identified the rider as Karl Auguston Zhang."
Wilson Fisk sat silently.
"Mobilize everyone," he said calmly.
"If he enters Hell's Kitchen… I want him dead."
Those who knew Fisk understood:
the calmer his voice,
the greater his fury.
"Yes, boss."
Wesley withdrew quickly. He had no desire to provoke Fisk's temper — his predecessor had died for far less.
Orders spread rapidly through the underworld.
Hell's Kitchen mobilized.
Barricades formed. Gunmen assembled. Rooftop lookouts deployed.
Even the Manhattan Police Department became aware of unusual gang mobilization. Yet they hesitated. Deploying enough officers to control Hell's Kitchen would require massive reinforcement — and the risk of escalation was high.
Let the gangs fight each other, some officials reasoned. Fewer criminals afterward.
Karl slowed as he entered the city.
Something was wrong.
Hell's Kitchen was too quiet.
This neighborhood was never silent.
He dismounted and sent several shadow ninjas ahead.
Their feedback returned instantly:
Kingpin's forces were waiting in ambush.
If Karl entered the next street, hundreds of armed gang members would open fire simultaneously.
Karl sneered.
He stored the motorcycle in system space.
Shadow ninjas emerged behind him.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Soon nearly five hundred stood in silent ranks.
Karl walked forward, shadow soldiers flowing behind him like a living tide.
At that moment, he looked more like a warlord than the gangs opposing him.
If he wore a tailored suit and gold-rimmed glasses, he might have passed for a crime lord himself — calm, refined, and terrifying.
They advanced.
The oppressive presence alone made several gunmen tighten their grips.
"Fire!!"
Gunshots exploded.
Pistols, rifles, submachine guns — controlled but overwhelming firepower filled the street. Heavy weapons were absent; deploying them in New York would invite federal intervention and jeopardize Fisk's political protection.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT—
BANG! BANG!
Karl raised his right hand, blue light shimmering across his palm.
An ice wall erupted from the pavement, instantly forming a crystalline barrier that absorbed the storm of bullets.
He tilted his head slightly.
The shadow ninjas vanished.
Three seconds later—
screams erupted ahead.
"What are these things?!"
"Ahhh—!"
"Shoot them! Shoot—!"
"They won't die!!"
The darkness itself had come alive.
Shadow ninjas emerged from blind spots, rooftops, alleys, and behind vehicles. Blades flashed. Gunmen vanished into shadow.
Five minutes later, the street fell silent.
Bodies lay scattered.
Karl lifted his gaze toward a surveillance camera mounted nearby and smiled faintly.
Inside Fisk Tower, Wilson Fisk watched the live feed.
The smile felt like mockery.
Fisk's anger burned — but so did his respect.
Karl had not even engaged directly.
Those shadow soldiers had slaughtered everyone.
Fisk briefly considered whether the attackers were connected to the Hand, the ancient ninja cult known for resurrected warriors and shadow operations.
But these entities emerged directly from darkness itself.
The Hand did not operate like this.
And they certainly would not risk conflict with Fisk over cash.
Fisk dismissed the thought.
Unbeknownst to him, the Hand's centuries-old leadership possessed wealth and influence far beyond his own. To them, Fisk was merely a powerful crime lord — not a figure of true significance.
Karl continued advancing toward Fisk Tower.
Any gang forces that appeared were swiftly eliminated by shadow warriors.
The escalating violence triggered alerts far beyond the underworld.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Triskelion — Operations Floor
"Director… you need to see this," Maria Hill said, handing over a tablet.
Nick Fury — clad in dark tactical attire — took it and began reviewing the footage.
The video showed Karl advancing through Hell's Kitchen, shadow soldiers erupting from darkness, and entire gang units collapsing within seconds.
Another clip showed ice structures forming instantly under his command.
Fury's remaining eye narrowed.
Shadow constructs.
Cryokinetic abilities.
Unknown origin.
Unknown allegiance.
And operating openly in New York.
The board had just changed.
...…