Kingpin's declaration undeniably sent shockwaves through New York's major underworld factions.

Confusion reigned—no one could understand why he had made such an unusual move.

What was clear, however, was the seriousness of his decree. Many gangs decided to lie low, wary of taking any action. True to his word, Kingpin's forces cast a wide net, brutally retaliating whenever extraordinary events were involved. Within just two days, over a dozen murders had been committed, each scene marked by Kingpin's bloody insignia.

In several cases, the victims had been beaten to death, a clear sign that Kingpin had taken matters into his own hands.

Realizing he wasn't bluffing, the city's major crime syndicates quickly fell in line. As long as they avoided dealing with anything "extraordinary," they could continue business as usual.

This sudden change in the criminal landscape alarmed S.H.I.E.L.D., especially its director, who was nearly stunned by the developments.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of New York, a luxury car escorted by several black SUVs pulled up to a villa on the west coast. The guards recognized the familiar insignia on the car's front, and the metal gates opened automatically. The car drove down the path toward the villa's garage.

As the rear door of the luxury vehicle opened, Kingpin, dressed in a crisp suit and clutching his cane, stepped out with his usual stoic expression. He entered the villa, but the moment he crossed the threshold into the living room, he and his bodyguards instantly sensed something was amiss.

Sitting on the sofa in the luxurious but supposedly empty living room was someone who should not have been there.

Click!

More than a dozen bodyguards swiftly reacted, drawing their guns and aiming at the intruder's back. One bodyguard raised his fist, preparing to advance, but Kingpin's eyes flashed as he extended a hand, halting the action.

In the stunned silence, Kingpin calmly ordered, "You all, leave."

"Yes."

There was no further explanation for Kingpin's words. The others didn't dare ask questions and quickly left the villa.

Kingpin strode over to the sofa across from the man sitting there, his presence commanding as always. He looked at the man in front of him, dressed in a black trench coat with a single eye staring back.

"Do you know what I hate?" Kingpin growled. "When people act mysterious with me."

"I'm well aware," the one-eyed man replied calmly. "I made sure to prepare for our meeting, Mr. Fisk."

Kingpin's eyes narrowed with ferocity. "What department are you from? FBI? CIA?"

The man leaned back slightly. "I think my authority is far greater than the ones you mentioned. I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D."

"S.H.I.E.L.D.," Kingpin muttered, his expression changing subtly. "From what I've heard, it's a highly secretive organization, operating within the U.S. government, with immense power and global influence. You're responsible for handling extraordinary events."

"Congressman Smoot and the party behind him are well acquainted with you, Mr. Fisk," the man added.

Kingpin's expression grew darker. This stranger had just named some of his most critical connections. If Kingpin didn't understand the threat now, he wouldn't be who he was. The bald man didn't waste time on pleasantries—he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring Kingpin down with his one good eye.

"Believe me," the man said, "I couldn't care less about your criminal activities. What interests me are the two people who nearly brought down your building."

Kingpin smirked. "That's quite interesting. So, what can you tell me about them?"

The man didn't answer directly, but Kingpin could sense his caution. "Are you planning revenge?"

"Who knows," Kingpin replied, neither confirming nor denying it.

The bald man didn't seem to care about Kingpin's motives. In fact, Kingpin's presence helped maintain a certain balance in New York. If he were to fall, the power struggle between the other gangs would undoubtedly ignite chaos. Kingpin, in his own way, was still useful to him.

"If you ever decide to go after them and want revenge, contact me first. I'll take control of your assets—I don't want New York to descend into chaos."

Kingpin wasn't intimidated by the statement. He simply shook his head and raised a finger. "No. For me, understanding my enemies is what matters most. Just because I want to know about them doesn't mean I'll risk everything in pursuit of revenge."

In truth, Kingpin intended to study his opponents. If he discovered their power was within the range of what he could overcome—even at a steep cost—he would have no hesitation in pursuing revenge. But if it exceeded his limits, he wouldn't go looking for a death sentence.

The bald man understood as well.

"As part of our deal, I can tell you that before this, many vampires in New York were slaughtered."

Kingpin's grip tightened on his walking stick at the news. He was powerful and knew much about the hidden world, beyond just the public knowledge of mutants. He was aware of many legendary creatures—undead beings like vampires and werewolves.

He knew about the vampires in New York, though their business interests never overlapped with his.

As a result, he'd never had direct dealings with them. However, he was aware of their strength.

Vampires, by nature, were faster, stronger, and had sharper reflexes than humans. They were also skilled in combat.

The vampires were undeniably powerful, and even Kingpin avoided provoking them. Yet, these beings had been wiped out by the two individuals in question.

From the way the bald man spoke, it was clear this wasn't just about two people. It suggested an entire organization or force behind them.

Taking a deep breath, Kingpin couldn't shake the memory of those calm, unforgettable eyes.

Without overthinking, he made a decision.

"What do you want to know?"

"I want you to describe those two individuals in detail."

"The man was young, maybe seventeen or eighteen, with black hair and sharp features," Kingpin faithfully recalled based on his memory.

Once he had finished his description, the bald man stood up. "Thank you for your assistance."

With that, he left the villa without hesitation.

Kingpin's eyes flickered. Under the shifting light, his face was cast half in shadow, half in light.

…

It can be said that misfortunes never come singly, and for Kingpin, the troubles were far from over.

During the day, Hell's Kitchen appeared no different from any other New York neighborhood. People bustled about, going to work, shopping, and running errands. Under a large billboard stood Bloody Mary, tall and striking, dressed in a black jacket with scarlet-red hair flowing over her shoulders. Her dark, edgy appearance, combined with her morbidly delicate beauty, made her an eye-catching figure.

To those unfamiliar with her, she might seem intriguing. But those who knew her quickly turned pale and avoided her. When Bloody Mary lost control, the results were always disastrous.

Her face was unusually rosy, and her intense, beautiful eyes held a strange affection as if she were waiting for someone.

A few moments later, a luxury car approached and stopped beside her. The door opened to reveal Kingpin, dressed in his usual suit, sitting inside. Gripping his cane with both hands, he turned his head and spoke in a deep voice.

"Mary, I'm very surprised by your decision. I never thought you'd be the first to leave me."

Indeed, Kingpin was shocked and angry that his most loyal lieutenant had asked to leave him. Bloody Mary, who had always been a trusted and powerful ally, was now walking away. Her abilities were formidable, and she was perhaps even more trusted than Bullseye. Losing her would be a major blow to Kingpin.

"I'm going to find him," Bloody Mary said bluntly, making her intentions clear. Her loyalty to Kingpin had vanished, and she now regarded him as a stranger, her impatience evident.

Kingpin knew exactly who she was referring to. He also saw the deeper reason behind her shift in attitude. Among her many personalities, the most violent and cruel, "Bloody," was in control, followed by her other adventurous, violent side, "Typhoid Mary." These personas allowed her to fully utilize her dangerous abilities. The other, more peaceful or cowardly personalities lacked the power to bring out her full potential.

This shift in Bloody Mary's loyalty was due in part to Kingpin's influence. For a long time, he had skillfully maintained control over her most dominant personalities—Bloody and Typhoid—using his courage, ruthless nature, and sheer force to earn their devotion. These two personalities had been captivated by his brutality and power.

But that night, everything changed. The appearance of the mysterious man shattered Bloody's allegiance to Kingpin. She had always admired strength, domination, and ferocity, traits Kingpin embodied. However, after seeing the man, she knew he surpassed Kingpin in all these aspects. Naturally, her loyalty shifted, and now she was determined to seek out the one who truly had the aura of a king.

Kingpin, aware that there was no way to alter her thinking, stared at her with murderous intent in his eyes.

"Mary, you know what happens to those who betray me," he warned coldly.

"I do," she responded, her voice filled with disdain. "But you're no longer fit to be my boss. That night, in front of that man, you were nothing but a pathetic loser. Get out of my way, Kingpin. Don't stop me from finding him, or I'll tear your heart out."

Her expression turned as fierce and violent as her words.

"You're asking for death," Kingpin roared. Days of bottled-up humiliation finally erupted. With a thunderous boom, he lunged out of the car, his ring-covered hand moving at an almost imperceptible speed, aiming for Bloody Mary's head.

She laughed maniacally.

"Kingpin, I told you—you're just a loser. You're no longer worthy of my loyalty."

As she spread her arms, a terrifying force surged from her, altering the gravity around them. Kingpin's movement, including the hand reaching out to grab her, abruptly stopped mid-air.

Bang!

Behind them, the luxury car crumpled under the sudden gravitational pressure, as did nearby street signs and trash cans. The driver, caught in the onslaught, suffered the worst fate. His head was crushed, and his internal organs were pulverized as blood seeped from the shattered remains of the driver's seat onto the street.

Bloody Mary inhaled the scent of blood, a cruel smile curling on her lips. Though Kingpin stood before her, veins bulging in his forehead with fury, she knew continuing the fight was pointless. Her gravitational power alone wasn't enough to kill him.

Facing Kingpin's silent, enraged stare, she mockingly placed her index finger to her lips and blew him a kiss.

"Goodbye, Mr. Fisk," she teased, her voice dripping with malice.

With that, she turned and strutted toward a nearby alley, her steps seductive, her figure fading into the darkness. As she left, the gravitational field around them dissipated. Though Kingpin's face remained expressionless, his heaving chest betrayed his anger. He glanced back at the crushed car, then slowly pulled out his phone.

By this point, anyone nearby had already fled, terrified by the brief but intense exchange.

In Hell's Kitchen, anyone lacking discernment would have died long ago.

Kingpin ignored the chaos around him. After making a quick phone call, he simply whispered, "Come pick me up." Once he hung up, he stood there, speaking quietly to himself: "Mary, you can't afford the price of betraying me."

While New York's underworld was in turmoil, the one responsible for all of it, Leon, had already left the city—along with his entire family.

Flying a Blackbird jet, they had traveled to a remote part of the Pacific Ocean, where an ancient group of islands lay untouched by modern civilization. The main island, vast and lush with pristine vegetation, was surrounded by smaller islets. This would be their training ground for the next three months.

Leon had instructed Keisha to use advanced spatial isolation technology to conceal the island group within a radius of several kilometers. To the outside world, it appeared as if the islands didn't even exist. Any ships that approached within 70 to 80 kilometers of the area would be subtly redirected by the spatial barrier, none the wiser.

Leon, Wanda, Pietro, Sergei, and the others arrived on the island, their excitement great.

…

Everyone was brimming with energy as they set out to build a large three-story villa near the coast.

Thanks to their enhanced physical abilities, they could chop down trees with a single strike. Having built wooden villas in the Ural Mountains before, they had the experience and skill to construct the house quickly. In just one day, they completed a spacious three-story villa, spanning over 1,000 square meters.

However, this villa was more a nostalgic project than a necessity. They had no intention of staying on the island for an extended period. It was not a closed-off retreat for rigorous training but a place to rest when they grew tired from their daily practice. Every night, Clarice would teleport them back to the manor, so the simple wooden villa sufficed as a temporary base.

That evening, they celebrated with a grand bonfire feast on the beach. The scent of various grilled foods filled the air, mingling with the salty sea breeze. Leon and the others sat by the fire, drinking juice and beer, talking and laughing as they shared stories of their adventures around the world, hunting strange and undead creatures.

The younger members of the group listened in awe, completely captivated by the tales.

Especially when Gennady shared his experience from London, dealing with vampires and werewolves, everyone listened closely. Most werewolves are brutish, violent creatures, but their physical strength and terrifying recovery speed surpass that of vampires. Werewolves and vampires have a deep-rooted rivalry, though the vampires seem to be more intelligent. Gennady discovered that they may have some connections with the British government or military.

An elite team has been formed, whose combat skills are exceptionally well-coordinated. They've developed silver and ultraviolet bullets, which are highly effective against werewolves. However, werewolves have also managed to get their hands on similar weapons, making them just as deadly to vampires.

Gennady stayed in the shadows, observing, taking advantage of the chaos. During his time there, he learned that both vampires and werewolves have ancient ancestors, apparently very powerful figures.

He had planned to investigate further but was called back before he could delve deeper. Still, it's not an issue; Sergei has already obtained the vampire blood they needed. Gennady suspects that there will be significant changes in the dynamics between vampires and werewolves in the future and intends to look into it after the three months of training are complete. He remains highly interested in these two ancient beings.

After a long night, the next day arrived.

Following breakfast, training officially began. The group stood on the beach—girls in vests and shorts, boys shirtless—everyone wore serious expressions, even the youngest among them, though this drew some laughter.

"Now we begin. In the first stage, I'll teach you six combat techniques," Leon announced, wearing only shorts. "These six techniques will maximize your control over your body."

He continued, "The six techniques are Iron Body, Shave, Paper Art, Moonwalk, Tempest Kick, and Finger Pistol. Iron Body tightens the muscles and controls blood flow, making the body as hard as iron for defense. However, with your mastery of Armament Haki, Iron Body's real value is in learning to control your muscles and blood."

Whoosh!

Leon stood still as his perfectly toned muscles suddenly tightened. The group watched closely, their enhanced mental and physical abilities, a result of the Super Soldier Serum, helping them grasp the technique quickly. Like Steve Rogers, they could absorb and remember complex strategies with a single glance, and with years of training, their muscle conditioning had reached remarkable levels.

Learning Iron Body wasn't a difficult task for them.

Next came Shave.

"Shave involves kicking the ground dozens of times in an instant to generate a strong rebound force, allowing for high-speed movement."

Whoosh!

Leon's figure blurred as he vanished from his spot and reappeared a short distance away, repeating this process rapidly. He moved so fast that afterimages trailed behind him as he dashed across the beach.

Sergei, Gennady, and the others watched with their eyes gleaming. Learning the Shave technique could finally close the speed gap with that pest, Pietro. Pietro often used his high-speed movement to taunt and toy with them during battles, which irritated them to no end.

Pietro, meanwhile, shrugged and sighed. This technique was useless to him.

Leon continued, "Next, there's Paper Art, which involves relaxing your muscles and sensing the changes in the air around you. It allows you to move like paper, avoiding the enemy's attacks with fluid grace."

He demonstrated the next technique: "Moonwalk. It uses explosive kicking power to make you appear as if you're vanishing. You can move mid-air with subtle, controlled kicks."

Then came the Tempest Kick. "This technique lets you attack by creating a high-speed vacuum with your kick, generating powerful strikes."

He shifted to Finger Gun. "With this move, you tighten your finger muscles, or use Armament Haki, to make your fingers so strong they can penetrate a human body like a bullet."

After demonstrating each of the six techniques, Leon concluded, "These six moves will significantly enhance your combat effectiveness. But there's another secret behind them—the Life Return technique."

The group listened intently as Leon introduced this new ability, a powerful skill he had derived from studying the human body's structure with the Sky Blade. Life Return was an advanced technique in the One Piece world, but here, it had become something even greater.

"This skill allows you to control various body functions, including your organs and hair. For example, you can quickly swallow food, digest it, and restore energy and vitality in a short time. You can also accelerate hair growth and use it in combat."

He continued, "Beyond that, mastering Life Return can help you control your Haki and other abilities. The potential is huge."

However, they also had downside. Devouring food to restore stamina comes at the cost of some vitality. But with the computing power of Sky Blade No. 7, he could eliminate that drawback, using energy consumption instead.

The group was stunned by the extent of Leon's abilities, including Natasha, Sergei, and the others. They hadn't expected such a vast arsenal of skills at his disposal. Still, it presented a golden opportunity to strengthen their powers.

Without further delay, everyone eagerly began learning the Six Techniques and Life Return, while Leon provided guidance, helping them master these abilities step by step.

…

With a solid foundation, Leon, in cooperation with Sky Blade, continued to monitor and guide the group throughout the training process. Their learning speed was astonishing.

Soon, it wasn't unusual to see Natasha using Moon step to fly around the beach, her slender legs kicking in mid-air. As she moved, a long blue energy slash would descend from the sky, carving a trench hundreds of meters long in the calm sea.

Meanwhile, Sergei and the others seemed to appear and disappear in rapid succession, their movements creating afterimages. To an outsider, it would have looked like ghostly figures darting around in broad daylight.

A month passed since this intense training began. During this time, everyone had reached a high level of mastery over the Six Techniques, and they had also become proficient in the Life Return technique.

Now, it was time for the second stage of their training—one that Leon would personally oversee.

"Flying slashes."

On the familiar beach, Leon stood in front of the group, speaking confidently like a seasoned swordsman. "Your strength is impressive, but you're missing a long-range attack unless you can cultivate Armament Haki to a high level."

"Until then, flying slashes can fill that gap."

He gestured to the group. "Watch closely!"

Holding an exquisite, luxurious cross sword in his right hand, Leon turned towards the sea. As he raised the sword high, a terrifying, sharp aura radiated from him, distorting the air around him. The intensity of his presence caused Sergei and the others to instinctively step back.

In the next moment, Leon's gaze sharpened like a blade. With one powerful motion, he swung the cross sword towards the sea.

Boom!

Before Sergei and the others could comprehend what had happened, a massive golden slash, hundreds of meters wide, was unleashed. The devastating force cut through the sea, splitting it in two for as far as the eye could see. The sea bed was visible in the gap, along with some unfortunate sea creatures that had been severed by the slash.

For a moment, the sea stood divided. Then, with a loud rush of water, the ocean began to fill the void, and soon, it returned to its natural state.

"Whaaat…" Sergei and the others murmured in awe, utterly dumbfounded by the sheer power they had just witnessed.

Pietro was so shocked that he nearly blurted out a curse, but before he could finish, Wanda and Natasha shot him a glare, causing him to swallow the last word. However, that didn't stop everyone's eyes from lighting up with excitement and awe.

It was unbelievably cool—and terrifyingly strong at the same time.

Even from such a long distance, without being directly in the slash's path, everyone felt a chill. The mere thought of that sharp, devastating attack was enough to make them imagine anything in its way being sliced cleanly in half.

This was the flying slash from One Piece.

However, the version deduced by Sky Blade's calculations was different. In One Piece, the ability to cut iron comes from feeling the breath of an object. But with Sky Blade, they could bypass this process entirely, using the most scientific and powerful methods to achieve the same effect.

The principle involved drawing an arc-shaped vacuum wave in the air with the blade, which was then pushed forward by atmospheric pressure. This technique had strict requirements on the sword's hardness, the proper force exertion, and the precision of wrist movement. Additionally, the flying slash's power could be further amplified by wrapping the weapon in Armament Haki.

Sky Blade, with its immense computing power, made it all seem effortless.

In fact, the technique for generating the required force was similar to the Tempest Kick, but applied to the hands and the sword. With enough skill, even a finger, chopstick, or wooden stick could be used to perform a flying slash.

The sheer coolness and power of this technique left everyone eager to master it.

Before long, they were all fully absorbed in learning how to execute the flying slash.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark, stepping away from his lab for a rare break, was about to meet a guest.

At Stark Industries, Tony sat in his office, casually dressed in a short-sleeved shirt. After shaking hands with the woman who had just entered, he gestured for her to take a seat.

The woman, showing no hesitation, sat down in the chair opposite Tony's desk.

Tony's first impression was that she seemed strangely familiar. Then, it hit him—wasn't she the pilot who had taken Natasha away before? He mused inwardly, Could it be that every woman in that organization is this stunning?

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Maybe I should join, he thought jokingly, though he quickly dismissed the idea. He didn't dare say it aloud, mainly because he feared he might get beaten—who knew if this woman's combat skills were as terrifying as Natasha's?

"So, Natasha sent you to pick up the Arc Reactor, huh? How should I address you?" Tony asked, trying to sound casual.

"You can call me Yelena," she replied coolly. It was, of course, Yelena.

Her attitude was professional and business-like. She showed no signs of being impressed by Tony's billionaire status, which didn't surprise him. He simply nodded, gesturing towards the documents he had laid out on the table.

"The two Arc Reactor cores and parts are already loaded on the truck. They're in Warehouse No. 1 of Stark Industries. You can take them whenever you're ready," Tony explained. "There's also an installation flowchart to guide you through the assembly."

Yelena's expression didn't change, and she nodded curtly, clearly treating this as a straightforward transaction.

"Thank you, then goodbye." Yelena said, picked up the document, and was about to stand up and leave.

But Tony stood up and stopped her. "Hey, Ms. Yelena, that's not what our deal said at the beginning."

"What are you trying to say?" Yelena asked coldly, turning to face him.

"I thought we were supposed to be friends, right? But as a friend, Natasha hasn't shown up even once this whole month." Tony shrugged, expressing his confusion. "I mean, what's going on here? Am I just being left hanging?"

Their agreement was clear: within three months, Natasha had promised he wouldn't be targeted by any extraordinary threats. But no one had shown up. How could they protect him if they weren't around? Or were they just that good at staying hidden?

"She doesn't need to show up," Yelena replied coldly. "The deal is still in place. We can guarantee that no idiot will bother you for the next two months."

"How's that supposed to work?"

"If you have the right connections and ask around, you'll understand exactly what that means," Yelena said. Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked out.

…

Yelena left the luxurious, spacious office, and as she opened the door, she bumped into Pepper Potts coming in. Yelena gave a polite nod and walked past her without a word.

Pepper glanced at Yelena, hesitating to speak, then entered the office. She glared at Tony Stark, who seemed deep in thought, and snapped, "Mr. Stark, if you could, please refrain from letting your lady friends waltz into the Stark Industries office."

"You know, with the stock market plummeting, most of the board members are already dissatisfied with you."

Pepper wouldn't admit she felt a bit jealous. She just couldn't stand Tony Stark's "decadence."

However, she suddenly noticed that instead of the usual carefree, teasing Tony, his expression was serious, and he seemed lost in thought.

"Tony?" she called, waving her hand as she approached his desk, trying to get his attention.

Her voice brought Tony out of his deep contemplation. When he saw Pepper standing there, he instinctively smiled and said, "Wow. Believe me, today is your most beautiful day, my dear Miss Potts."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark. Thank you so much for the compliment," Pepper replied with mock anger, although she was relieved to hear his familiar tone.

She wanted to say that if he didn't know how to give compliments, he shouldn't bother trying.

"You're welcome. So, my dear Ms. Potts, what brings you here?" Tony asked.

"I need you to sign the papers I'm carrying."

"Wow, looks like there's a dozen of them," Tony said, making a face full of rejection.

Pepper shook her head. "It's not a dozen, Tony. It's dozens, and this is only a part of them."

With that, she placed the hefty stack of documents on his desk.

Tony glanced at the pile, and his expression turned serious. He circled the desk and walked up to Pepper, placing his hands on her shoulders. Looking into her eyes with a mock-serious tone, he said, "My dear Miss Potts, you're already the executive assistant. I hereby authorize you to handle these documents."

"Which means... these files are now your problem."

Before Pepper could respond, Tony bolted for the door. Her face was frozen in disbelief as she watched him leave. Just before the door closed, she shouted, "Oh my God, Tony Stark! You can't just run away!"

Tony wore sunglasses and quickly left Stark Industries with his bodyguard, Happy. They headed downstairs to two sports cars parked in a nearby space. Just as Tony was about to get in, a middle-aged man in a suit with a gentle expression walked over, also wearing sunglasses.

When Tony saw him, something clicked. He paused, letting go of the car door handle and turning to face the man.

The man removed his sunglasses and extended his hand. "Mr. Stark, do you remember me? Coulson, from S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Of course, I remember your flowing long hair," Tony replied, shaking his hand with a perfunctory grin.

Tony had only vaguely remembered Coulson's introduction from when he first returned to New York, a quick briefing followed by a meeting with Nick Fury. It clicked later that Coulson was also part of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Coulson, a little self-conscious, touched his balding head but remained unfazed. He knew well enough about Tony's sharp tongue and sarcastic nature.

But Tony's next question caught him off guard.

"Agent Coulson, has anything big happened in New York this month that might concern me?"

Coulson's eyes narrowed. "Did that woman you met mention something? I'm guessing she didn't give you the full picture."

Clearly, S.H.I.E.L.D. had been monitoring Tony and the Stark Industries closely. The meeting with Yelena had not gone unnoticed.

Tony smirked. "So you're keeping an eye on me? Intriguing. Sounds like they're giving you headaches. Surveillance, I take it?"

Coulson remained calm. "They're too mysterious and too dangerous. We've been trying to trace their origins, but sadly, Mr. Stark, without your cooperation, our hands are tied."

"Well, what did your investigation turn up?" Tony pressed.

At that moment, a voice crackled in Coulson's earpiece: "Coulson, we lost her in a surveillance blind spot on 35th Street in Manhattan."

"The subject is skilled in anti-tracking, likely has backup, and the speed at which both she and the vehicle disappeared was...unusual."

"Understood," Coulson replied, then shrugged at Tony. "We lost the trail."

Tony scoffed, "Ha! Honestly, I hope you do find them. I'd love to know who they really are."

Even Jarvis, with all his advanced facial recognition and search methods, couldn't track Yelena or Natasha. Tony's curiosity was piqued. For a group to operate under the constant surveillance of modern society and leave no trace, it could only mean one thing: they had access to cutting-edge artificial intelligence well beyond anything currently known.

To completely suppress modern network information technology and block the world's networks, allowing that group of people to vanish from the digital world—now that was intriguing. As a genius, Tony was naturally curious.

But clearly, S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't meeting his expectations, and that didn't surprise him. He was still waiting for the other party to reveal the full truth to him.

"A month ago, two individuals infiltrated the headquarters of the largest Crime Boss in New York and utterly destroyed him and several of his subordinates, all of whom had extraordinary abilities," Coulson said. "Their only goal was to ensure that no superhuman would come after you, Mr. Stark."

Coulson paused and added, "By the way, based on the information we received, Mr. Stane happened to be in a meeting with that Crime Boss at the time."

…

In the underground laboratory of a villa perched high on a cliff overlooking the ocean in New York, Tony Stark leaned back in his chair, his head slightly tilted as he tried to relax. On the workbench nearby, partially assembled metal components hinted at the creation of exoskeleton armor. In front of him, a brand-new armor design was displayed on a holographic projection screen.

This was the armor Tony had envisioned ever since his escape from the cave where he had been held captive. With the miniaturized Ark reactor, Jarvis' artificial intelligence system, and his nearly maxed-out technical skills, he had turned what once seemed impossible into a reality. This armor would become his ultimate safeguard.

After being kidnapped, Tony had felt utterly powerless. His status as a billionaire and a genius scientist had meant nothing in the face of armed terrorists. A single bullet could have erased everything he owned in an instant. It was during that time he realized that he could only rely on himself. Flesh and blood alone couldn't stop a bullet, but the hardest armor could.

Thus, the MK armor was born. But even with this new creation, Tony wondered: would it truly keep him safe? Or was it just a source of fleeting comfort?

His mind drifted back to a memory from the cave—the vision of a beautiful woman with short, burgundy hair that had shattered his understanding of reality. He would never forget the scene: blazing flames licking the walls of the cave, bodies lying in despair, eyes wide with disbelief. Among them stood the woman, holding the terrorist leader by the neck, tossing him like a ragdoll against a distant wall. The man's body burst like a bubble, blood splattering everywhere.

Could the MK armor he developed ever protect him from that kind of power? Tony had his doubts.

Coulson's recent words, coupled with the vast information Jarvis had collected by hacking into New York City's networks, only deepened his confusion. Yelena's cryptic message echoed in his mind. It wasn't just talk—two individuals had single-handedly intimidated world-class crime lords, including the most powerful in New York, with devastating force.

Tony felt an oppressive weight settle on him, a pressure brought by power and mystery far beyond human limits. For the first time, Tony Stark—always confident, always proud—began to question himself.

He didn't know whether the knowledge and creativity he possessed—the crystallization of endless inspiration and advanced technology—could bridge the vast gap, as wide as mountains, rivers, and oceans, between him and what he was facing now. Tony's expression darkened.

He hated this feeling—the insecurity, the self-doubt, everything.

Time passed, and Tony remained slumped in his chair, eyes vacant, almost like a lifeless corpse. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there. Then, by chance, his eyes fell on an object in the corner of the room, something he had forgotten about.

It was an unfinished star-shaped shield leaning against the wall.

The shield was based on one of his father Howard's earliest designs. Tony recalled words his father had once said to him as a child—words he had long forgotten and never cared much about at the time.

"Tony, you are the son of Howard Stark, the greatest scientist of this century. You are also my greatest work. I believe that in a more prosperous and advanced world, you will create stories far greater and more legendary than mine."

"Hey, Tony, put down those damn comic books. It's always Carl Anderson books you're reading."

"Son, crying is not how the Stark family deals with problems. We may be proud and arrogant, but we never doubt ourselves, never give up, and never cry."

"In this world, no one can bring the Starks down. If your beliefs remain strong, once the race begins—whether you're on a curve or a straight road—you must surpass it. You must stay determined and grit your teeth."

The voice, once blurry in his memory, came rushing back into his heart, and Tony's dull eyes began to brighten.

"Dad, maybe you were right."

Tony murmured to himself, then stood up from his chair, stretched his muscles, and walked over to the workbench. "Jarvis, we're not done yet, so don't fall asleep on me."

"Nice to have you back, sir."

Zzzt! Zzzt!

The sound of a laser cutting metal echoed through the underground lab. Tony's voice broke the silence occasionally.

"Hey, don't hold it against me—I'll donate you sooner or later."

"I'm sorry, am I blocking you?"

...

Meanwhile, at the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, in the large hall with floor-to-ceiling windows, Agent Hill approached Nick Fury, who was holding a cup of coffee and staring out at the city below.

"Sir, according to the results from our one-month facial recognition search, we've come up empty. We checked a total of 383 city surveillance networks and found fewer than 30 people whose facial match exceeded 35%."

"However, our agents investigated all their backgrounds and histories, and ultimately eliminated them all."

Fury took a sip of his coffee, his expression unchanged, as if he had expected this outcome all along.

"What do you think, Hill?"

"They're like ghosts," Hill replied helplessly.

She had been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for over ten years. As Fury's right-hand and a senior agent, she had seen and investigated more than a hundred bizarre and seemingly impossible cases. Yet, thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s advanced technology, she had always managed to find some clue.

But this time, she couldn't even begin to describe this group. All she could say was that they were ghosts.

Their numbers were unknown, their information was unknown, their powers were unknown, and their movements were impossible to track. Even though Kingpin had verbally described the appearance and figures of the two people, there was no trace of them on the internet.

A group of ghosts, living beneath the gaze of society's watchful eyes, invisible and untouchable, leaving everyone feeling powerless.

Fury nodded, but kept his thoughts to himself.

After a moment of silence, Hill added, "Secretary Pierce is looking for you."

Fury raised an eyebrow.

…

Boom!

Above the sea, a terrifying roar suddenly exploded, and several figures were seen flying through the sky like birds.

With every step in the void, an explosive transparent ring of airwaves burst out, allowing them to move gracefully through the air.

In the midst of these airwaves, Sumarokov emerged, muscles bulging, his upper body bare. He raised his double chain swords, now blackened, and slashed downward.

In an instant, two terrifying golden slashes, each dozens of meters wide, tore through the sky.

The others, each wielding a cross sword, swung theirs down in unison.

Countless flying slashes filled the air, densely packed and overwhelming, as though they intended to slice through the sea itself.

Their target: Leon.

Leon stood on the roiling, boiling sea, wearing only shorts, a shining cross sword made of golden particles in his hand.

Faced with the overwhelming storm of flying slashes, his right hand tightened around his weapon, sweeping, slashing, and blocking at a speed too fast for the naked eye to follow.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The slashes, powerful enough to cut through mountains and rivers, were blocked and deflected by Leon in the simplest and swiftest movements.

Dazzling sparks burst out at every point of impact. The deflected slashes crashed into the sea, causing explosive water pillars to rise, filling the sky with heavy rainfall.

Once this onslaught ended, Wanda, Sergei, and the others appeared around Leon, descending from the sky at some unknown time. Without mercy, they launched another attack.

They charged across the surface of the sea, moving at nearly subsonic speeds, leaving long, rapid waves in their wake.

With his heightened sense of awareness, Leon had already sensed their approach.

Facing the frenzied siege from Sergei and the others, he remained calm, resisting their attacks with nothing but his own strength.

Boom!

With a single sword strike, Leon sent Wanda flying a thousand meters away.

Wanda, leading the charge, ignored the seawater soaking her hair and sticking it to her cheeks. She continued speeding forward, gripping her sword in her right hand while extending her left hand.

A giant red hand, formed from chaotic magical energy, grabbed the thousand-meter flying slash and violently shook it.

Bang!

The flying slash shattered into pieces.

Pietro, Sergei, and the others sharpened their focus, accelerating once more as they passed Wanda and rushed toward Leon.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

This was a battle beyond imagination, a clash that subverted the human worldview. Over a dozen fighters displayed the results of months, or even years, of intense training. Their swordsmanship, combat skills, energy manipulation, and tactical coordination had reached their peak.

Every flying slash impacted the sea with explosive force. Each collision caused airwaves powerful enough to create massive craters in the ocean's surface. The sea churned violently, transforming into a chaotic expanse of whirlpools and towering waves. The entire area, stretching for dozens of kilometers, became a death zone, and all marine creatures instinctively fled from the impending disaster.

On a distant island cliff, three young girls stood, witnessing the shocking battle with wide, unblinking eyes. Though they had not yet been injected with the super soldier serum, their use of Haki allowed them to barely follow the combat. Even so, the intensity of the battle felt like a real life-or-death struggle.

Despite being surrounded, Leon fought back fiercely, mercilessly kicking Sumarokov. Even though Sumarokov instinctively used his Armament Haki, he was sent flying thousands of meters, coughing up blood. Yet, without hesitation, he returned to the fray. To be honest, a battle like this would terrify any normal thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl, but Clarice, Alina, and Polina had long grown accustomed to it.

Pushkin, on the other hand, was a different story. His precocious eyes shone with enthusiasm and longing. His blood boiled as his fighting spirit surged, almost overflowing, but he hated his lack of strength and seniority. He yearned for the same power as his older brothers and sisters and craved to be part of the battle he was witnessing. But he was still young and not yet in his golden period of physical growth, forced to watch as his siblings grew stronger before him.

Even Yuriko, who had joined the group later, had already surpassed him in strength. In this battle, she played a crucial role. Pushkin's heart pounded as he watched the fight, having stood there for two whole days. That's right, the battle between Leon, Sergei, and the others had raged on for two full days, seemingly without end.

No one took a moment to rest. From Wanda and Natasha to Sergei, Sumarokov, and Yuriko, they all had one goal: to kill Leon. Because when Leon found an opening, he would show no mercy.

Everyone bore injuries. Natasha and Wanda had sections of their hair cut off by flying slashes after failing to dodge in time. Sergei and Pietro had wounds from finger guns, while others carried long bloodstains from kicks and slashes. Yuriko fared better, her unparalleled self-healing ability sparing her from scars.

But Pushkin had seen everything from the beginning, and he knew just how close Yuriko had come to being cut in half by Leon's sword.

Wanda and the others had narrowly escaped when they surrounded Leon. The battle had been intense, and it was clear that this confrontation was Leon's final assessment of their training over the past three months.

No one felt fear, no one gave up. Their determination to fight was unshakable, as if the fighting spirit had been ingrained in their very bones and souls—even with Leon as their opponent.

Boom!

As yet another day passed, a terrifying, tsunami-like force erupted from Leon, while over a dozen equally powerful auras exploded like volcanic eruptions in response. The clash of these energies turned the sea and sky, stretching for kilometers, into a chaotic, bloody purgatory. Red and black lightning streaked across the heavens, and dark clouds loomed ominously overhead.

…

The earth and mountains trembled, and the explosive momentum felt like the collision of massive forces.

The sky finally cracked.

Billowing dark clouds split apart, dispersed, and were obliterated by the power unleashed by those kings and god-like.

The sea, under the impact of these terrifying auras, rose in monstrous waves layer after layer.

Leon stood on the sea, and the waves threatened to shatter his momentum. His sharp eyes radiated an overwhelming Haki that seemed to dominate the heavens. Though he was only 1.8 meters tall, a mere speck beneath the endless sky and sea, his presence was as majestic as a god of the ocean.

In contrast, Sergei, Wanda, Pietro, and the others, unwilling to show weakness, surrounded Leon, releasing their Conqueror's Haki without restraint. Despite the sweat dripping down their foreheads and their labored breathing, none of them gave up.

The clash of Conqueror's Haki against Conqueror's Haki lasted for what felt like an eternity.

Waves of red and black lightning raged across the sea.

The entire scene resembled the end of the world.

Yet, no matter how much Wanda, Natasha, and the others struggled, they had too little time to fully awaken their Conqueror's Haki. Leon's Haki was like an endless ocean, while theirs was merely a stream, a river.

Finally, Leon's lips curled into a smile, and with a hearty laugh, his monstrous Haki surged once more, mercilessly suppressing Wanda and the others. They were overwhelmed and fainted from the sheer pressure.

"Damn it…"

"Still failed."

Even as they slipped into unconsciousness, Wanda, Natasha, and the others murmured in frustration as they fell towards the sea. But even in defeat, they still gripped their weapons tightly.

Seeing this, Leon snapped his fingers.

Ta~

With the sharp snap, space fluctuated, and Wanda and the others, who were about to sink into the sea, vanished. When they reappeared, they were lying safely on the beach.

Leon's figure transformed into a golden beam and flew toward the island beach. In the blink of an eye, the beam condensed and exploded into sparks of light as Leon descended from the air. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the four little ones on a distant cliff leap with confidence. They stepped on the mountainside and it exploded, the force of the explosive power sent them soaring through the air.

"Wow, Leon, you're amazing! Wanda, Natasha, and the others never beat you!"

"Marvelous!"

"Leon is so powerful; Natasha doesn't stand a chance against you!"

The three little girls, like cheerful flatterers, gathered around Leon, showering him with praise. Taking advantage of Natasha's fainting, they dared to speak boldly; otherwise, they wouldn't have had the courage to do so.

Pushkin, unable to hold back his excitement, shouted, "That life-and-death confrontation... it makes me want to fight too!" His youthful energy was boiling over. Seeing Pietro lying unconscious nearby, he almost lost control and felt an urge to punch him. But after a moment of restraint, he shouted, "I want to beat him ten times too!"

Of course, he wouldn't do it. After all, he didn't have the strength, and he might end up being the one hung up and beaten.

Leon chuckled as he gently patted the heads of the three little girls clinging to his waist. Their big, adoring eyes sparkled with admiration, and Leon couldn't help but laugh heartily. No one could resist the affectionate gaze of these cute little girls.

After acknowledging the girls, Leon turned to Pushkin, the only boy in the group, who was blushing with excitement. Leon placed a hand on his shoulder and said softly, "Be patient, kid. In a year, your golden growth period will come."

"Work hard when that time comes, but don't get too obsessed with it. Just like Wanda and the others, it's not all about brute strength."

He pointed toward the distant sky. "Our true goal lies out there—in the vast universe, waiting for us to explore and conquer."

"I understand, Leon. I'll work hard!" The young man's excitement grew, and he nodded with solemn determination. Leon was like a god to him, someone whose words and actions he admired deeply and aspired to follow. Pushkin had sworn many times that he, like Sergei and Pietro, would become a warrior fighting alongside Leon in all directions.

Leon nodded in approval. This young man had great potential and would undoubtedly become one of his trusted right-hand men in the future. As a leader, Leon was also quite skilled at motivating his team.

"What about Leon, Wanda, and Sister Natasha?" The little girls, now squatting in front of Wanda and Natasha and poking their faces playfully, looked up and asked.

"After two days of fighting and unleashing so much Haki, they're physically and mentally exhausted. They need to rest."

"It's time for us to head back."

"Okayy~~~" the girls chimed in.

The three months of intense training had come to an end, and Leon was very satisfied with the results. Using Clarice's ability, the two girls and Pushkin quickly lifted everyone and transported them through a portal back to the manor.

Before leaving, Leon instructed Keisha to close the space barrier.

Leon placed everyone in their rooms one by one, and before leaving, he injected them with a healing serum developed by Sky Blade.

This serum not only rapidly repairs necrotic muscle cells and injuries but also replenishes the nutrients they all needed.

Leon believed that after this battle, Wanda and the others would experience a significant breakthrough in their strength.

Afterward, he took a relaxing bath and enjoyed a delicious meal prepared by the manor's chefs, accompanied by the four little ones.

Throughout the meal and even afterward, the four children were still buzzing with excitement, their faces flushed from all the energy and chatter.

Leon asked the maid to prepare a cup of cappuccino for him, then sat on the sofa watching TV.

Reflecting on the past three months, he realized that while he had been teaching Wanda and the others, his own strength had undergone a tremendous improvement.

Thanks to Sky Blade's support, his strength had reached the level of a Yonko, and perhaps even surpassed it.

As for Wanda and the others, after awakening their Conqueror's Haki and surviving this battle, they were now at a level comparable to generals.

The fact that they had reached such heights in just a few years was nothing short of remarkable.

…

Leon had poured vast resources into everyone, so this level of progress was to be expected. Using breathing techniques to strengthen internal organs early on, supported by nutrient solutions and relentless daily training, they had surpassed human physical limits within two years. Their cardiopulmonary functions had also improved drastically, although eventually, progress from breathing techniques began to slow.

Then, with the introduction of Armament and Observation Haki, they broke past their previous limits once again. Combined with nutrient solutions and costly food supplements, their physical development reached near-monstrous levels within just a few years.

The true game-changer was the super-soldier serum specially crafted by Sky Blade. This serum catalyzed an all-around evolution. Not only did it enhance their physical fitness to monstrous levels, but it also unlocked immense potential within them. As their training intensified, particularly in their prime years, the high-pressure training, especially under Leon and even with Sky Blade's resources, enabled each member to evolve into powerful warriors. It was only natural that they all achieved the rank of generals and became exceptional swordsmen.

But this isn't the end. The future looks bright. With Sky Blade, they have the power to conquer the world. Reaching a godly physique might be challenging for now, as Sky Blade's computing power may eventually fall short. Genetic engineering on this scale isn't straightforward, and Sky Blade can't entirely shoulder the load. But that's a problem for later.

The past three months of intense training went exceptionally well. Each member of the team Leon had formed over the years committed fully, crafting the finest nutrient solutions with Sky Blade's resources and mastering the skills he taught, especially the flying and slashing techniques essential for great swordsmen. They weren't fully refined in their weapon use or swordsmanship at that level, but that's what the last two days of battle were for—a real-life confrontation to unify everything they had learned.

Of course, this seemingly life-or-death battle was actually under Leon's perfect control. His advanced Conqueror Haki, Sky Blade's remote support managed by Keisha, and the relentless attacks from Wanda and the others all created a thrilling scenario. Several times, it seemed as if he might be beheaded or dismembered, but Sky Blade and his own calculations managed everything.

Wanda and the others genuinely thought this was a fight to the death, though. Truth be told, it felt invigorating to stretch his muscles through this intense combat, and it even satisfied a bit of darkness within him.

The three fierce fighters—Wanda, Yuriko, and Natasha—were especially ruthless, though Leon wouldn't have to pay any price for it afterward. After all, the scars on his body were healed by a serum, so even if he wanted to nurse a grudge, there wasn't any trace left. He figured they'd probably thank him in their hearts. The thought brought a smirk to his face.

His thoughts were interrupted by the classic scene of Tony Stark's press conference on the large TV screen in front of him, just as Stark delivered the iconic line: "I am Iron Man."

With that, the prelude to a new era of power had officially begun. Leon watched Stark's eyes gleaming with purpose as the press clamored for details, questions overlapping in chaotic waves. Leon stretched, smiling softly.

Just then, his phone rang. He answered it to find out that the airborne fortress Melina had been managing was complete, with its launch scheduled in three days. Until then, it would undergo final maintenance.

The progress was quicker than expected, but with the new artificial intelligence powered by Angel Civilization technology and guided by Keisha, the project had accelerated beyond the original timeline. The AI's computing capabilities far exceeded Tony's Jarvis, given it was an angelic creation of Sky Blade's system, designed by a 15,000-year-old civilization. Leon agreed to have Wanda and others go for an inspection.

For Leon, the next three days were set for some well-deserved rest.

Night had fallen over Queens.

Inside an apartment on the second floor, Peter Parker, who had taken up the mantle of Spider-Man, was hastily putting on his suit. He opened the door slightly and called down to Aunt May, "Goodnight, Aunt May."

"Goodnight, Peter. Sweet dreams," her gentle voice called from below.

With the door closed and locked, Peter pulled on his mask, opened the window, and pressed himself against the wall before making a nimble leap up to the rooftop. Shooting his webs, he swung out into the city, traveling between New York's skyscrapers, barely noticeable against the night sky.

Finally, he reached a 100-foot building in Queens, crouching on the guardrail by a signal tower. Perched high above the city, he sharpened his senses to catch any sign of trouble. Suddenly, he heard a faint noise—a rapid burst of gunfire, almost inaudible due to the distance.

"Aha, let's see who's causing trouble. It's such a nice evening, and we all deserve to be in a good mood," Peter thought with a smirk, leaping from the building and swinging toward the sound.

As he closed in, he noticed people fleeing in a panic. High in the air, he finally got a clear view of the source. Peter nearly lost his grip on the web as he registered the scene below. Dozens of heavily armed gangsters surrounded a lone figure, their fingers pressing hard on the triggers. And their target? A single woman—a very beautiful woman.

Under the spider mask, Peter's eyes widened. "Oh my God, what am I seeing?" he whispered, pressing himself against the fifth-floor wall of a nearby apartment to observe, readying himself for the next move.

…

This woman looked different from what Peter had expected.

Cool—very cool. She had a striking figure, standing at 1.78 meters, with a black leather jacket, black jeans, and a brown belt. Her left leg was torn off at the thigh, exposing the remnants of fishnet stockings on that side, while her upper body was clad in a short, white top that offered a glimpse of her chest, catching the eye.

On her exposed abdomen was a black circular tattoo, adding a touch of style. But the most captivating feature was her long, blood-red hair—a dark, cold beauty that exuded power, even violence.

She showed no fear of the hail of bullets fired at her. Raising her right hand, she conjured an energy shield from thin air, causing the bullets to strike it and ripple like raindrops on water. But it was what she did next that made Peter catch his breath.

With a cruel smile, she extended her other hand and clenched her fist.

Boom!

In an instant, the positions of the dozens of gang members holding weapons shifted. Suddenly, crushing gravity bore down like a mountain, and they were flattened without so much as a scream, reduced to bloody pulp. Scarlet blood mixed with the crushed flesh created a gruesome scene.

Peter almost lost it. Covering his mouth, he tried to suppress the wave of nausea that hit him. "Damn, that's brutal," he muttered, his skin crawling with goosebumps. This woman was terrifying; she was like a devil in human form.

Despite his hesitation, Peter knew he had to act. She had caused sheer panic, and with so many dead, he couldn't let her walk away. He would have to arrest her and let the law take its course.

But just as he was about to make his move, new figures appeared. On the now-empty street, illuminated by lights on either side, three shadows stretched long and ominous. Three figures strolled in at a leisurely pace.

One was a middle-aged man in a simple blue-and-white shirt, another was tall and muscular, clad in armor resembling a rhinoceros. Between them walked a bald, heavyset man in a suit, gripping a cane, a ring glinting on his hand, and his eyes fierce.

Peter could sense something on a rooftop in the distance, aimed at them. The hair on his arms stood up in warning. Whatever it was, it spelled danger.

Peter's initial urge to act halted immediately. He crawled along the wall like a spider, moving stealthily to another spot. He found a building closer to the scene, partially hidden by a large tree with thick branches, providing some cover.

"Mary, this is your only chance. Come back with me, or I'll break your bones one by one," the bald man's voice boomed with a deep menace, his accent adding to his dominance and ferocity.

Peter felt a surge of danger radiating from all three figures, not just the bald man. He watched silently, taking in the scene.

Despite the bald man's cruel threat, Mary showed no fear. Instead, she let out a maniacal laugh, making the already tense street feel even eerier.

"Break my bones?" she sneered. "That's practically fun for me. But you're not capable of doing it."

Mary brushed a hand through her scarlet hair, her eyes gleaming with madness. "I'm looking for the man who's truly worthy. A man I believe in. You? You're just a loser."

"Mary, no one wins every time," Kingpin replied, spreading his arms as if embracing the world, his cane held in his left hand. "But I don't always lose either. For the past three months, rumors of my failures have spread, and some have even dared to defy me." He smirked. "So, I cut off their heads and displayed them in front of Kingpin Tower. I am still the ruler of the underworld."

"Ha, congratulations, Mr. Fisk," Mary said with mock applause, only to shift her tone. "Unfortunately for you, the man I love is still a mountain you can't climb. He's a nightmare that haunts you every day."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm warning you one last time: my leaving has nothing to do with you. Don't interfere with me finding him, or he might misunderstand."

"I'm truly sorry, my Mary," Kingpin said with a disappointed shake of his head. He seemed to realize that Bloody Mary was beyond reclaiming, leaving him with only one choice. "Kill her."

At that moment, a gunshot rang out from the distance.

Bang! An armor-piercing bullet tore through the night, aimed directly at Mary's head. The shot echoed, signaling the start of the battle, making Peter flinch. As Mary leaped to evade, the fight erupted in full force.

Mary seemed to have anticipated the shot, stepping back just in time. The bullet missed her, striking a nearby lamppost and tearing through it, then burrowing into the ground at an angle.

As the lamppost flickered, Mary activated energy in her right hand. But before she could retaliate, the silent Sandman standing beside Kingpin sprang into action, his body dissolving into yellow sand. In moments, a terrifying sandstorm swept toward Mary.

The storm engulfed the street, lifting cars, motorcycles, discarded leaflets, and trash bags, until everything was obscured by whirling yellow sand.

On the outer wall of the nearby apartment, Peter was caught in the aftermath. He quickly ducked his head to avoid the sand whipping over him. Even so, the impact of the sand stung, leaving him wincing as he clung to the wall.

The massive man, Rhino, let out a roar and began his charge. He lowered his head like an actual rhinoceros, barreling forward with terrifying momentum, ignoring the swirling sandstorm as he aimed to crush Mary.

Meanwhile, Kingpin shed his usual underworld emperor airs, unbuttoning his suit and tossing it aside as he joined the attack. The Sandman clouded Mary's vision, disrupting her focus while Rhino charged from one side and Kingpin approached head-on. From a dark corner in the distance, a sniper lay in wait, ready to fire at any moment.

Despite her recklessness, Mary knew she was in serious danger. Yet, even now, she had no regrets.