Smith's Tavern, Queens
This was one of the most luxurious bars in all of New York City.
It wasn't just popular with the younger crowd, even business elites often came by for a drink or two.
The bar was thriving. On most nights, people started pouring in well before sunset.
Many staff members believed that if the owner were willing to franchise, Smith's Tavern could easily expand across all of America.
That thriving foot traffic was precisely what had caught the eye of Kingpin.
Now, in a quiet corner of the bar, three round tables were occupied by over a dozen men, each clad in sleek black suits and dark sunglasses. At first glance, it was obvious they weren't ordinary patrons.
Seated at the center of them was a bald man in a leather jacket, a strange and intimidating figure with a bullseye-shaped target tattooed right in the middle of his forehead.
He was Lester, better known as Bullseye, a deadly supervillain and one of Kingpin's most reliable enforcers.
Bullseye possessed an inborn talent for precision throwing, no matter what he tossed, his aim was impeccable.
He could kill using a paper plane, or even his own teeth.
Aside from that, he was also a skilled martial artist, weapons expert, and sharpshooter.
In short, his role was roughly equivalent to Hawkeye from the Avengers, just with far darker motivations.
His past was colorful: former mercenary, ex-pro baseball player, and long-time assassin.
Now, he worked under Kingpin, the shadow emperor of New York's underworld.
His reason for being here today was simple, he was acting under Kingpin's orders.
He'd brought his crew to familiarize themselves with what would soon be their turf.
Because in just two days, this bar would belong to Kingpin.
He never considered that Carl would reject the offer.
It was a generous deal, after all.
Even Bullseye and his crew doubted Carl would turn it down.
Still, to Bullseye, this whole mission felt like a boring waste of time.
He'd been an assassin long before this. He'd even once been contracted to kill Kingpin.
But after receiving a better offer, he'd switched sides.
Today's task, checking out the place in advance, held no appeal for him.
But hey, Kingpin paid well, so even if it was tedious, he had no choice.
"This is such a drag. Any random lackey could've done this job."
Bullseye downed his drink and turned toward the dance floor. "Might as well find something fun to do."
He started wandering through the bar, scanning the crowd.
After a while, he spotted a stunning woman.
Without hesitation, he made his move and tried to strike up a conversation.
Unfortunately, the woman wasn't alone, she had a date.
The man was tall, muscular, and blond, clearly brimming with self-confidence.
He looked down at Bullseye, certain he could intimidate him, especially with his girl watching.
Determined to assert his dominance, he shoved Bullseye and cursed:
"Fuck off, freak! Didn't see the birthmark on your head?"
"Nice one, William!" the woman laughed and cheered.
The man, William, gave a smug grin. Looks like I've scored some points tonight.
But in the next moment, he missed the chilling grin spreading across Bullseye's face.
"Well, someone's feeling strong today," Bullseye sneered.
Without warning, he whipped a knife from his belt and flung it.
The blade embedded itself perfectly into William's hand.
A searing pain shot through William's arm.
When he glanced down, a knife was lodged in the center of his palm, blood oozing uncontrollably from the wound.
"AHHHHH!!"
He clutched his injured hand, trying desperately to pull the blade out, but the pain was unbearable.
Nearby, William's date and a few other guests had noticed the commotion.
Panic erupted.
But before anyone could react further,
The woman saw a flash before her eyes.
In the blink of an eye, William and the strange bald man vanished.
A shadowy alley near Smith's Tavern
Four figures suddenly appeared in the once-empty alleyway.
William and Bullseye looked around in confusion, clearly disoriented.
They had no idea what had just happened.
Skye was there too, just as stunned.
At that moment, Carl's calm voice broke the silence.
He turned to William and said, "Your hand's injured. There's a hospital a few hundred meters south."
"Huh? Oh… okay."
William nodded reflexively, still stunned.
He glanced at his hand,
The knife was gone.
The wound was still there, but the blade had somehow disappeared.
Still, that was the least of his worries, he needed medical help fast, and more importantly, he had to get as far away from the psycho bald guy as possible.
Casting one last terrified look at Bullseye, William turned and ran out of the alley.
"Thank you! Thank you, sir, ma'am!" he shouted back at Carl and Skye.
It seemed he believed these two strangers had somehow saved him.
Carl turned his attention to Bullseye, now holding the bloodstained knife in his hand.
His expression was calm and composed as he stared the man down.
When Carl had entered his bar earlier, he'd instantly heard the scream.
Activating his supervision, he quickly located the source of the trouble.
To avoid panic inside the bar, he'd teleported the involved parties out, including Skye.
After all, this was his bar.
Any disturbance would disrupt his guests.
And the bald man… he looked familiar.
Isn't this guy one of Kingpin's lackeys?
What the hell is he doing in my place?
"Carl, what's going on?" Skye finally found her voice, her expression one of total disbelief.
Everything had happened so fast, one blink, and she was suddenly here.
Carl smiled. "Well… I guess you could say I awakened superpowers."
"You know Superman from the comics? My powers are kinda like his."
In this Marvel-based world, Superman still existed as a fictional character in comics and movies.
As insane as it sounded, it was the truth.
"No way… Are you serious? You're joking, right?"
Skye stared at him, unable to process what she'd just heard.
"Am I joking? Didn't you already feel it earlier?"
"Pretty sure the bed collapsed, remember?"
"Huh? …Oh!!"
Her eyes widened as realization dawned, followed by a deep blush.
Clearly, she understood what Carl meant by "feeling it."
Suddenly, two dark projectiles flew toward Carl and Skye.
Carl caught them casually, one in each hand.
His gaze turned icy as he looked back at Bullseye.
"You seriously just tried to attack us?"
"Are you trying to die?"
Bullseye was stunned, Carl had caught his throwing knives.
He'd killed dozens with those blades.
A guy like Carl, just some rich kid, shouldn't have stood a chance.
"Carl Smith…" Bullseye sneered, trying to recover his composure. "You're just another spoiled brat with too much money."
"You talk tough, but do you have a death wish?"
"Guess Kingpin won't need to buy your bar after all."
He knew a lot about Carl.
Though he couldn't explain how Carl caught the knives, he wasn't afraid.
Not of some young punk.
Bullseye reached into his coat for more weapons, but suddenly froze.
A sharp pain shot through his hands.
He looked down and saw his own knife and two of his throwing stars embedded in his palm.
The same ones he'd just thrown moments earlier.
His palms trembled, blood pouring from the wounds.
He broke out in cold sweat, teeth clenched to stifle a scream.
Eyes wide with disbelief, he stared at Carl.
"You…"
Before he could say anything else, Carl was already standing in front of him.
"I told you," Carl said coldly, "you're the one seeking death."
His eyes began to glow.
Twin beams of scarlet energy burst forth from Carl's gaze,
And vaporized Bullseye's right hand.