With all five Fingers of the Hand dead, the once-feared organization was now little more than a hollow shell. Their influence, their power, their centuries-old schemes—all undone in mere days.
Of course, there were still remnants. That Beast—the true source of the Hand's power—still slumbered somewhere, waiting. And there were others, snakes hiding in the shadows. But without their leaders, they were scattered, weak, and meaningless.
The Hand was finished.
And now, only one man stood on his target list.
Wilson Fisk.
The so-called Kingpin of Crime.
Unlike the Hand, Fisk was a different kind of enemy. He wasn't some ancient warlord wielding dark arts or a chi master with centuries of training. He was a man—one of the most dangerous men in the world. His influence stretched beyond the shadows, beyond secret orders and assassins. He controlled governments, businesses, law enforcement, and the underworld itself.
And worst of all?
He had targeted Lumia.
Fisk had crossed a line no one should have crossed.
Max exhaled slowly, closing the book in his hands. "Time to deal with the real problem."
Rising from the throne, he stretched lazily before flicking his fingers.
The entire compound collapsed.
Towers crumbled, walls shattered, and everything Sowande had built was reduced to dust, leaving nothing but an empty wasteland behind.
Max walked away without looking back.
His next stop?
New York.
And this time, Fisk wouldn't have the luxury of begging for mercy.
Though Max was focused on his mission, there was a part of him that felt genuine excitement.
This world had mutants.
He knew they existed—he had seen traces of them in the underground, whispers in intelligence reports, subtle movements in the criminal world. But despite all his travels, despite wiping out the Hand's most powerful warriors, he had yet to meet one in person.
And if there was anyone in New York who would have mutant connections, it was Wilson Fisk.
The Kingpin wasn't just the undisputed crime lord of the city—he was ruthless, intelligent, and well-connected. If there were mutants on the streets, he either owned them, employed them, or hunted them.
This meant that tonight, for the first time, Max would finally see what the so-called "Children of the Atom" were capable of.
That thought thrilled him.
Max had already encountered superhumans, chi masters, and mystic warriors, but mutants were an unknown factor.
As for himself?
Technically, he has a mutant too. Maxwell the Hit man king of New York.
Though his mutation was subtle, barely noticeable in comparison to the powerhouses rumored to exist. Unlike those with immense strength, energy projection, or god-like abilities, Maxwell's mutation was minor telekinesis—just enough to subtly control bullet trajectories, adjust angles mid-air, and curve shots.
In a fight, it made him deadly with firearms—his bullets never missed, and even mid-flight, he could adjust their course at will. But compared to legends like Magneto, Storm, or even lesser-known street mutants, it was a weak ability.
Or at least… it would have been.
Maxwell never relied on it. Instead, he had trained his body, honed his skills, and built himself into a weapon. His mutation was just a tool—not a crutch.
But now?
Now, Max might get to see real mutants in action.
Not the weaklings he had ignored in the past. The strong ones. The ones who could warp reality, tear through buildings, and shake the earth with their power.
And they would be standing between him and Kingpin.
A slow grin spread across his face.
"This is going to be interesting."
With that, Max set off toward New York City.
Tonight, the Kingpin falls.
***
Max moved without urgency, taking his time as he made his way through the neon-lit streets of New York.
Tonight, he wasn't sneaking in.
He wasn't hiding from cameras or dodging security.
No.
Tonight, he was walking straight into Wilson Fisk's tower—the heart of the underworld—as if he owned the place.
—---
Kingpin's Tower – Midnight
Fisk Tower stood tall, its black-tinted windows reflecting the city lights.
To the outside world, it was the headquarters of a respected businessman—a philanthropist, real estate mogul, and public figure.
But to those who actually mattered, it was the throne of a king.
And tonight, that king was going to fall.
Max strode through the front doors, his hands in his pockets.
The moment he stepped inside, security moved fast.
Guards in black suits—big, muscular men who clearly weren't ordinary bodyguards—rushed forward, guns raised.
"Stop right there!" One of them shouted.
Max didn't stop.
He didn't even blink.
With a flick of his fingers, every single gun twisted and turned, pointing back at their own owners.
Before they could react—
BANG.
A single moment.
That's all it took.
The guards collapsed, bullet holes in their skulls, their own weapons betraying them in an instant.
Max kept walking, not a single drop of blood on him.
—---
Top Floor – Wilson Fisk's Office
Wilson Fisk sat alone in his massive penthouse office.
He had felt it.
The shifting air. The silence where there should be movement. The subtle weight of power pressing into his surroundings.
Someone dangerous was coming.
And then, it happened.
The elevator doors slid open.
And Max Ryder stepped in.
Calm. Unbothered. Not a scratch on him.
The very sight made Fisk's breath slow.
This was no ordinary assassin.
No ordinary enemy.
Max was something else.
Fisk steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable.
"So, you're the one causing all this trouble."
Max didn't answer immediately.
Instead, Max's gaze drifted across the luxurious office—the mahogany desk, the gold-trimmed furniture, the massive window overlooking the city.
And then…
His eyes landed on a figure sitting on one of the sofas—a girl with long green hair.
"Finally, a real mutant."
Max thought to himself as he stared at the girl, who looked back at him with a calm but piercing gaze.
Unlike the other people he had encountered so far, he could feel power radiating from her.
A power similar to Maxwell's—but far more ferocious.
"Hmm… but who is she?"
As he analyzed her, his smart lenses—a high-tech enhancement implanted in his eyes—scanned her instantly.
Within seconds, a name and profile appeared in his vision.
"Rosaria… strange name."
Max thought as he skimmed through the information.
Her mutant ability was 'Charm.'
***
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