----
Nolan and Fisk locked eyes in a heavy silence.
Fisk's stare was as aggressive as ever intimidating, forceful. But Nolan's gaze was something else: calm, still, like the depths of the ocean. Unreadable.
Fisk knew full well until the day he killed his wife with his own hands, she and their daughter were his most vulnerable point. The one line no one dared cross.
But when you're facing an enemy you can't kill, and they know how to leverage your weakness?
That weakness becomes a liability.
That's why, in the end, Wilson Fisk murdered the woman he loved the most.
He wanted to become someone without weakness.
Someone more than human.
Fisk's cold face suddenly shifted, a smile breaking through the tension like nothing had just happened.
"Dr. Nolan, you're quite the joker. Please let's sit and talk business."
As if Nolan's threat had never been uttered, Fisk gestured for tea. "Janine, bring us some tea. Got it straight from the East thought you might appreciate it."
Nolan took his seat again with a polite smile. "Mr. Fisk, let's keep this professional. I've looked into those three chemical plants. To you, they're just production facilities. You've got plenty these three won't hurt your bottom line."
Fisk forced his anger down and replied, "And what do I get out of this?"
"I can ensure the circulation of our serum in Clinton drops significantly. And from now on, you'll be informed ahead of time before any Osborne shipments land in your territory."
Fisk narrowed his eyes. "You're offering a solution to a problem you caused. That's not a negotiation. That's extortion."
"You're not curious about our product?"
That got his attention. He'd seen the results firsthand—what those injections did to people.
He sat forward, his interest piqued. "You're offering me the Phoenix Serum?"
"I'm proposing this OsCorp will grant you exclusive bidding rights for distribution in the Clinton District. Control the channel, and you become the undisputed king of this region. Expand your network. Consolidate power."
Nolan leaned in. "You and I both know how annoying superheroes can be. This is my way of showing respect."
Just then, Fisk's phone buzzed.
Janine answered it.
"It's Bullseye."
Fisk didn't even turn his head. "What did he say?"
"He says… Murdock's dead."
She didn't recognize the name, only repeated the message.
Fisk looked at Nolan, then slowly nodded.
"Alright. Let's talk."
---
Back in the car, Klaw drove them back toward Oscorp, still looking confused.
"Why sell distribution rights to Fisk? We're leaving a ton of money on the table."
From his perspective, it didn't make sense. They already had their own networks, especially in a place as chaotic as Clinton. Sales were booming there—less so in polished, upper-city zones.
"Fisk controls more channels than we do. Handing him the contract just shifts our strategy to high-volume, low-margin sales," Nolan explained. "Besides, the chemical plants were the goal. And now they're ours."
"Still feels like a steep price."
"Not really. Fisk is on our side now. And the more tech we develop, the more people will come sniffing around Ross, Fisk, whoever. They're all part of the web I'm weaving."
Nolan shook his head. "There's a difference between being a hustler and a businessman. Before we were just street dealers. No matter how valuable our product was; we weren't taken seriously. Now, we are."
Klaw was quiet for a moment, then nodded.
"You're smarter than me. I'll follow your lead."
Nolan glanced down at the file in his hands. "Once the next-gen formula is ready, you'll handle distribution again. But this time, our target market isn't just street-level dealers."
He looked up.
"We're going after power brokers. Senators. Diplomats. Stark has money, sure but his power lies in connections. You think half those political wolves would dare speak against him? They owe him their jobs."
"If there's ever a vote targeting Stark, it'll be shot down before it reaches the floor. Money's a tool, not the goal."
"Understood."
"Oh—and heads-up. T'Chaka's probably going to be killed in a terrorist attack soon. It's part of a setup someone's trying to trigger public outrage against superheroes."
Nolan's voice was calm, casual but Klaw stiffened. He tapped the steering wheel, trying to process.
By now, Klaw trusted Nolan's words almost blindly. He didn't know how Nolan got his intel just that it was always right.
Even something like this…?
An assassination plot against the King of Wakanda?
"Any thoughts?" Nolan asked.
Klaw didn't answer immediately. He was still digesting what this meant.
Wakanda was supposed to be untouchable. But ever since partnering with Nolan, Klaw had gained more power than he'd ever dreamed of.
And it all started with one sentence—"I can help you bring Wakanda to its knees."
Now… it didn't sound like a fantasy anymore.
"If the king's going to die anyway," Nolan said, "why not make sure we retrieve the body?"
He looked out the window, voice low.
"Vibranium isn't the only valuable thing in Wakanda. T'Chaka himself could be just as useful. If we get him in time, I might be able to bring him back."
"But… he'll be killed during a speech," Klaw muttered. Then his eyes widened. "Oh. I get it."
He finally understood.
Nolan was planning to orchestrate a massive explosion during the assassination big enough to mask a body swap.
"Exactly," Nolan nodded. "Since there'll be an explosion, either way, might as well make it really count."
"I'll make the arrangements."
"And once we're back, hand-pick a few loyal men. Inject them with Phoenix Serum 2."
"What about me?" Klaw asked, eyes shining. That near-immortal ability? That was superhero-level stuff.
"You sure? If I inject you, your arm will regenerate. You won't be able to use your cybernetic weapon anymore."
Klaw hesitated.
He glanced down at his mechanical limb—so much firepower. Letting go of it felt… wrong.
"Then again," Nolan added, "you're not a front-line guy. Keep the weapon for now. I'll make you a new suit that integrates it—once I finish the power armor series."
Klaw lit up. "Thanks, boss."
"Boss? Don't call me that."
Klaw laughed. "Come on. I work for you now. And it sure beats being a fugitive. Who'd have thought I'm actually on my way to becoming a superhero."
"Superhero?"
----
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