Cleaning up (chapter 67)

prevously in chapter 66

"With some semblance of a contingency plan, I can start my work. I need to drive a wedge between Fisk and Gao. I also need to tip off SHIELD about possible HYDRA bases that have no real value to me, and I need to create an artifact using the Reality Gem," he thought. With all of his thoughts aligned and enemies planned for, he could finally turn his attention to his goal.

"Setting aside becoming a god, to even attempt that, I need to live long enough. And with the extremes in my blood, I can heal from injuries, but I can still die. So I need immortality, the kind of immortality that makes me unkillable, no matter what part of my body is destroyed." and he was already concocting some ideas on how to achieve that.

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Chapter 67

Inside a dimly lit, abandoned apartment, a single desk and two chairs were positioned in the center of the room. On one of the chairs lay Wesley James, the same Wesley James whose arm Henry had broken, the same Wesley James who worked for Wilson Fisk. His body, marked by several slash wounds.

Fisk stood over the scene, flanked by his men, his usually stoic face twisted in fury. The dim light cast long shadows, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Blood had pooled around Wesley's chair, seeping into the worn, dirty floorboards. The metallic scent mingled with the stale air, creating a nauseating stench.

"When did he leave, and why did he leave alone?" Fisk demanded, his voice low but seething with anger.

One of his subordinates, standing nervously to the side, stepped forward. "He received a call in the middle of the night, sir. He then requested I give him my gun and keys."

Fisk sighed deeply, the sound almost a growl, as he turned his glare towards the subordinate who had spoken. "And you let him go, alone?"

Without warning, Fisk lunged at the man, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off his feet. His massive fists pummeled the subordinate's face with brutal force. Each punch landed with a sickening thud, blood splattering with every impact.

"That is enough, Fisk," came a calm, measured voice from the back of the room. Leland Owlsley, one of Fisk's business partners, although technically working under him, stepped forward. Despite his age, his presence commanded attention. "It's not time to kill one of your subordinates."

Fisk paused, his fist still raised, then reluctantly let the man drop to the floor, a bloody, unconscious mess. "He was a friend," Fisk said, his voice tinged with a rare hint of sorrow as he approached Wesley's lifeless body.

Fisk knelt by Wesley's side, his eyes scanning the wounds. "These are slash wounds. It was her who did this."

Leland sighed, looking at the body with a detached, analytical gaze. "If Gao wanted to kill one of your men, she wouldn't have used a sword. It's too obvious."

"Or she wants me to know," Fisk replied, his voice a dangerous whisper. His eyes burned with a mix of anger and grief.

Leland remained quiet, his expression unreadable. He knew better than to argue when Fisk was in this state. Instead, he watched as Fisk's men began to clean up the scene, their movements hurried and efficient.

"Clean him up," Fisk ordered, his voice cold and commanding. "And I want you to find out who did this. They are going to pay."

As Fisk's men moved to follow his orders, the room was filled with the sounds of hurried footsteps and whispered commands. The air was thick with tension, everyone keenly aware of Fisk's boiling anger. The dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance over the scene of violence and death.

Fisk stood back, his eyes never leaving Wesley's body. Despite the outward calm he displayed, inside, he was a storm of rage and grief. Wesley had been more than just an employee; he had been a confidant, a trusted right-hand man. The loss was personal, and whoever was responsible would face the full force of Fisk's wrath.

As the cleanup continued, Leland approached Fisk cautiously. "We'll find them, Wilson. And when we do, they'll regret ever crossing you."

Fisk didn't respond immediately. His eyes were still locked on Wesley, the image of his friend's lifeless body seared into his mind. Finally, he spoke, his voice a low, deadly growl. "Yes, they will. And they will pay with their lives."

The apartment was soon cleared, leaving no trace of the gruesome scene that had taken place. But the memory would linger in Fisk's mind, fueling his desire for vengeance.

In the middle of the night, the streets of Hell's Kitchen were as dangerous as ever, with crime lurking around every corner. Among the neon lights and dark alleys, a gambling palace operated discreetly, a haven for vice and illicit activities. The place buzzed with activity as gamblers hunched over tables, their faces a mix of desperation and greed. Smoky haze filled the air, mingling with the scent of alcohol and the faint hint of sweat.

Henry, dressed in his Equalizer cloth, slipped through the front door unnoticed. It wasn't just skill that made him invisible; it was the result of an invisibility potion. Patrons and guards alike went about their business, oblivious to his presence. He moved silently, his steps echoing only in his own mind as he navigated the crowded main room, past bustling tables and engrossed gamblers.

He reached a corridor leading to a more secluded part of the establishment. At the end of this hallway stood a heavy wooden door, guarded by two imposing Asian men, their bodies covered in intricate tattoos marking them as members of the Triads. They were alert, their eyes scanning the area for any threats. As Henry's potion wore off, he appeared before them as if out of thin air.

The guards barely had time to register his sudden appearance. Henry drew two pistols from his coat, their sleek, black barrels glinting briefly in the dim light. 

[ Name: Silent Shadow Pistol ]

[ Grade: 4th ]

[ Description: The Silent Shadow Pistol is a sleek, black, refurbished Glock that has been upgraded to perfection. It retains its powerful firepower but has been given a special function to be completely silent when fired. This enhancement was achieved using the Essence of Sound as a supplementary material. ]

[ Effects: This pistol was given the function to be completely silent when fired without compromising firepower, using the Essence of Sound as supplementary material. ]

[ Deterioration-Rate: 0% ]

"Guess using sound as a supplementary material for a silencing function was feasible," Henry thought to himself as he pulled the triggers.

The pistols fired, and the guards crumpled to the floor, silent as shadows. Not a single sound echoed in the hallway, the shots masked by the unique properties of the Silent Shadow Pistols. Henry stepped over their bodies, pushing open the door and entering the room beyond.

Inside, the atmosphere was even more decadent. Triads sat around gambling tables, engaged in their vices with reckless abandon. Smoke wafted through the air, mixing with the scent of expensive liquor and the pungent aroma of drugs. Laughter and shouts filled the room, a cacophony of indulgence and vice.

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A/N: More clean up... hmmm...

P.S. I've been working on a new fanfic about a guy who can control mana. He doesn't have a system, so he will try to understand mana, apply it to items, and imbue them with mana. When he has enough knowledge of his body, he will do the same to himself. That is the path of a knight. Then there is the path of a wizard. It's also based on the Stranger Things universe; I just finished season 1.