Her mutant ability was 'Charm.'
But that wasn't all.
She could summon and control mist, a special kind that couldn't be sensed or dispersed by normal means.
Even more impressive—she had a unique sensory field, allowing her to see everything happening in the entire city as long as her mist was present.
"No wonder Kingpin kept her close. A person this powerful… he must've been using her as a secret weapon."
Max mused as he finished reading the data.
His lips curled slightly.
Tonight just got a lot more interesting.
Kingpin, sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, kept his expression calm as he observed Max Ryder approaching.
But internally?
He was cursing every single decision that had led to this moment.
No one knew better than Wilson Fisk just how dangerous Max Ryder was.
Unlike most fools who underestimated him, Kingpin had direct sources within SHIELD.
And through them, he had learned things about Max that most wouldn't believe.
This wasn't just some assassin.
This was a man who had killed an invading alien super-soldier and took her speed-enhancing boots for himself.
'Damn it. He figured it out. He knows I put that bounty on him, didn't he?'
Kingpin clenched his jaw, but his face remained as impassive as ever.
Not a single flicker of emotion showed—years of discipline and experience allowed him to maintain his mask of composure.
'Surely, I left enough distractions… enough people involved in the contract… he couldn't have traced it all the way back to me…'
Yet, here Max was.
And that meant only one thing.
He had.
"You came all this way… killed so many of my men… Why?"
Kingpin finally spoke, his deep voice steady as his massive hands folded together.
Max, standing just a few steps away, raised an eyebrow.
With one lazy motion, he waved his hand.
Bodies of Fisk's elite guards—men trained in the most brutal combat arts—were scattered around the office, lifeless.
Blood pooled beneath them.
"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" Max said, his voice dripping with amusement.
Kingpin's fingers twitched.
And then…
The mist began to rise.
A cold, creeping fog started spilling across the office floor—dense, unnatural. It came from the woman sitting nearby.
Rosaria.
She hadn't moved at first, watching everything unfold with unreadable eyes. But now, her presence grew oppressive as her mutant aura flared.
The mist poured from her like a living entity—one that couldn't be sensed by normal means.
It curled around Max's feet, creeping up toward his body like phantom hands reaching for prey.
"How dare you?"
Rosaria's voice cut through the heavy atmosphere like a dagger.
Her green eyes burned with intensity as she slowly stood, raising a single delicate hand.
Max felt nothing.
But his advanced smart lenses picked it up instantly.
A clone of mist had already formed behind him, a perfect replica of Rosaria, its hands outstretched to slice his throat with an invisible blade.
A deadly technique.
Max didn't even blink.
"Weak presence."
His voice was utterly disappointed.
Then—
Rosaria froze.
No—her clone froze.
Her body suddenly convulsed, her pupils dilating as if something had severed her connection to her own mist.
And before she could even process what had happened—
She collapsed.
Max hadn't even moved.
He had simply thought about shutting down her nervous system.
And reality obeyed.
"W-What… are you?"
Rosaria gasped from the ground, her body paralyzed.
She looked up at Max in pure terror as the mist around her dissipated into nothing.
Max finally turned to Kingpin.
"Your turn."
"Surely, we can talk about this," Kingpin said, clearing his throat.
For the first time in years, he felt something he rarely experienced—fear.
Today might be his last day.
He knew it.
The way Max was looking at him—with those emotionless, predatory eyes—sent chills through his massive frame.
"I was… mistaken," Kingpin admitted, his voice remaining steady despite the tension in his shoulders. "I put a bounty on you. That was a mistake. But from now on… I'll work under you, if that's what you want."
His massive hands clenched on the desk.
Or, perhaps…
"Or maybe just spare me. As long as you let me live… I'll stay out of your way."
Max tilted his head slightly, considering the offer.
Then he took one step forward.
Kingpin flinched.
Max's cold fingers suddenly rested on Kingpin's bald head.
His touch was gentle.
But his voice?
Sharp. Cutting. Final.
"Ah… so you understand the value of life."
Max smiled, his grip tightening just slightly.
"If you knew that, then why did you target my sister?"
The room went silent.
Kingpin's pupils shrunk.
A single bead of sweat slid down the side of his face.
Max leaned in, his voice almost a whisper now.
"Is your life valuable… but not hers?"
Fisk tried to open his mouth—to say something, anything.
But the pressure around his skull grew heavier.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
For the first time in his life, Wilson Fisk knew… he was about to die.
Kingpin felt it.
A pressure—not physical, but something deeper.
Something that sank into his very bones.
Max wasn't squeezing his head.
He was squeezing his soul.
"M-Max… please…" Fisk's voice cracked.
Max didn't respond.
Instead, his fingers tightened ever so slightly—an action so casual, so effortless.
And yet…
CRACK.
Kingpin felt it.
Something inside him fractured.
His vision blurred. His ears rang. His legs wobbled.
He was Wilson Fisk.
The Kingpin of Crime.
And yet, at this moment—
He was nothing.
"You took everything from people," Max muttered, staring down at him. "You crushed them, like this."
His fingers tensed.
"You killed innocent families, like this."
More pressure.
Fisk's knees buckled.
"You tried to take what's mine."
A low groan left Fisk's throat—his entire body now trembling under the overwhelming force.
"And now, I take from you."
Fisk gasped.
The world around him darkened.
His thoughts scrambled.
And for the first time in his entire life—
Wilson Fisk knew what true helplessness felt like.
Then—
Max let go.
Fisk collapsed onto his knees, coughing violently.
Sweat poured from his skin as he gasped for air, his massive frame shaking.
He was alive.
But he wished he wasn't.
Max tilted his head slightly, looking down at him like a bored god gazing at a broken toy.
"From now on, Kingpin," Max said, his voice calm, "you work for me. You don't breathe unless I allow it. You don't move unless I permit it. You don't even think unless I let you."
Kingpin shuddered.
"Yes…" he croaked. "Understood."
***
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