Solomon didn't care about Wilson Fisk. He didn't care how many people Fisk had killed or how much dirty money he had made. Maybe "Kingpin" had some sort of tragic past or magnetic charisma, but Solomon couldn't be bothered. In his eyes, Fisk was just a gangster—no matter how brutal, none were more violent than Solomon himself. Had it not been for a recent message from Matt Murdock regarding the "Black Sky" and the Shadow Realm, Solomon might have forgotten about those matters entirely. If K'un-Lun hadn't sent repeated requests to Kamar-Taj for assistance, he wouldn't have spared a second thought on the Hand, no matter how many of them were clawing over dragon bones like alley cats. Those bones now served as mere parlor decor in Solomon's home.
Even without the might of the Eternal City behind him, Solomon considered the petty conflicts of mortals beneath him. As long as Fisk didn't cross the red line—human trafficking on the East Coast—he wouldn't bother to intervene.
Solomon had made a vow to Tita: that atrocity would never happen again. Not long ago, the Sisterhood had annihilated the Clinton family's private military. The Rockefellers responded by manipulating U.S. intelligence agencies into an "investigation." But the Eternal City's intelligence web was far-reaching. It had already uncovered what Little Rock knew all too well: Bill Clinton was the illegitimate son of Arkansas Governor Winthrop Rockefeller. His rise was not the tale of an underdog, but the carefully orchestrated project of international financial groups and occult societies worshipping Cernunnos (see the Hillary email scandal for more).
No matter how many media outlets painted Clinton's life as inspirational, the truth was always this: he was a puppet. In fact, dig deep enough, and you'd discover that many Founding Fathers—including George Washington himself—had connections to secret societies. That's why Solomon scoffed at the Avengers' crusade against Hydra. The country was built on secret orders. Even the ancient Celts once ruled by the Ancient One were tied to these same groups.
After the last Grand Master of the Knights Templar, Jacques de Molay, was burned at the stake by Philip IV, money found its perfect companion: the military-industrial complex. Without a global reset—and Tony Stark punching himself in the face—Hydra and the financial cabals behind them would never be wiped out. These financial tyrants, lovers of so-called free-market ideals, loathed divine authority. That made them Solomon's inevitable enemies.
Recruiting the Malik family wasn't a whim—it was strategy. He aimed not just to destroy that corrupt power but to absorb it, cleanse it from the inside. While the world remained distracted by small-time skirmishes, Solomon had laid a plan for the next hundred years. It was a tapestry no ordinary mind could comprehend—one where even Thanos was just a tool.
Meanwhile, the Department of Homeland Security and the CIA were scrambling. The Eternal City's deployment capabilities left no trace—not even on the information layer. Their only clue: massive explosive craters left by anti-personnel ordnance. The CIA suspected the attack on the Clinton PMC was linked to the Langley AFB incident. But since both were deeply embarrassing scandals (especially with Epstein's fallout still fresh), they kept everything classified.
If they had approached the Avengers, they might have learned who was using that particular caliber of smart-explosive ordnance. But their inquiries were slow, and Solomon already knew everything they were uncovering—thanks to father-daughter Malik keeping him informed. With their help, Solomon covertly siphoned wealth and influence from those secret societies—leaking incriminating files online, assassinating key figures, forging wills to provoke inheritance disputes. Under Victoria Hand's command, the Eternal City's spies and assassins executed their missions with surgical precision, leaving no fingerprints.
Even after such a bloody purge, the Clintons and Rockefellers didn't back down. They carried on as if nothing had happened. In fact, the newly emerging crime lord of New York—Wilson Fisk—was quickly chosen as a "clean" face for their schemes. Yet after a single meeting with former mafia boss Elijah, Fisk knew better than to cross certain lines. Especially during the time Solomon and the witches still resided in Manhattan, where the Sisterhood had no qualms about purging any criminal who might disrupt their lord's peace.
Even under immense pressure from his puppet masters, Fisk had the sense not to supply underage girls to politicians—thus sparing himself from a chainsaw at the throat. But that wasn't enough to earn Solomon's respect. After all, the number of dead mob bosses could fill a shipping container each year. Kingpin was just another name destined for that list.
Solomon only brought this up to subtly urge his adoptive mother's dear friend to reconsider. Vanessa was a brilliant artist—Solomon didn't care much for abstract art, but even he acknowledged her talent. She deserved better than some crime boss with no legitimate job and a target on his back. Athena had already been discussing it with her when Solomon arrived. His mention of it was at his mother's request.
But Vanessa had clearly made up her mind. Neither Solomon nor Athena had any right to dictate her choices.
After Vanessa left the apartment, the goddess of wisdom finally spoke: "Remember to hold her funeral. We're the only real friends she has in New York."
Vanessa's painting still hung on the wall, vibrant arcs of color forming a soul-piercing mathematical elegance. Athena emptied her wine glass. Both she and Solomon had seen Vanessa's fate. They knew they couldn't stop it. Their gathering that day was less about persuasion—and more about saying goodbye.
Solomon shrugged. "I could just kill Wilson Fisk now. He's going to die anyway."
"Fate doesn't work like that. Even if you killed him, Vanessa would still meet her end. Go visit your sister. I need some time alone."
"You'll never be alone, Mother." Solomon kissed Athena's cheek. "I've got other business to handle, but I'll be back by evening to have dinner with you and little Lorna. Tomorrow someone will come to install sentry turrets for the orphanage. New York's getting more dangerous. The Sisterhood is gradually pulling out. I need to make sure the children are safe when you're not around."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Enjoying the story? Support the author and get early access to chapters by joining my Patre@n!Find me at: patre@n*com/Mutter
You can read each novel for $5 or get them all for just $15.
I Am Zeus, KING OF GODS (Chapter 120)
Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 391)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 471)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 677)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 1059)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1418)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1422)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1452)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1504)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld!(Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 703)
[+50 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter][+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]