After receiving his second dose of enhanced serum, Rory could clearly feel his strength surging past previous limits.
But without a proper benchmark, it was hard to say just how strong he had become.
In Rory's mental MUC (Marvel Universe Cinematic) power scale, only a few top-tier cosmic-level bosses even deserved S-rank.
For example: Thanos with all six Infinity Stones? Definitely S-tier.
A+ tier: Scarlet Witch, Stormbreaker Thor.
A tier: Base-level Thanos, Captain Marvel, Hela.
A- tier: Ultron, Vision, Hulk.
B+ tier: Iron Man, Doctor Strange.
B tier: Captain America, Winter Soldier, Ant-Man, Spider-Man.
B- tier: Black Panther, Star-Lord.
C tier: Kingpin, Crossbones, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Daredevil, still above ordinary humans.
Based on that scale, Rory figured he now qualified for at least B-tier, maybe higher.
Of course, rankings on paper never tell the whole story.
Real combat depends on many factors, gear, terrain, experience. Even Captain America with and without his shield was a night-and-day difference.
Still, the extra power gave Rory a sense of comfort.
With Phase II of his "Gene Reinforcement Program" now complete, it was time to begin the groundwork for Phase III.
The reason for the step-by-step process was simple: human DNA simply couldn't withstand Eternal-level genes all at once. It had to be layered in gradually, like building a skyscraper, one floor at a time.
During his downtime, Rory would occasionally watch TV.
The screen was flooded with reports about Stark Industries.
Tony had shut down the Weapons Division. The company's stock was tanking.
Obadiah Stane was scrambling to get things back on track, but Tony had vanished from the public eye, and nothing could shake his decision.
Time passed, about half a month.
Rory barely left the penthouse. The city was crawling with surveillance cameras. If S.H.I.E.L.D. caught a whiff of him, things would get messy fast.
Then, one night, just as he'd wrapped up a long day of experiments and laid down in bed, he heard it:
Footsteps.
Soft, deliberate... on the rooftop.
Wait, this is the top floor.
Why would someone be walking on his roof in the middle of the night?
Click.
The locked window was being picked, from the outside.
Two dark figures slipped silently into his lab. And judging by the continued noise above, more were still on the roof.
Rory's first thought was: S.H.I.E.L.D.?
But then he noticed the intruders' ninja garb.
A beat later, he had his answer.
Click.
He flipped the wall switch.
The lab lit up in an instant.
The two ninja, mid-ransack, flinched. One muttered something in a language Rory didn't understand.
Standing on the second-floor railing, Rory looked down at them and asked calmly:
"Gentlemen, care to tell me what exactly you're looking for?"
Whoosh!
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Three shuriken embedded themselves in the wall inches from Rory's head.
The two attackers drew their blades and charged.
"You little shits. Stealing I could tolerate, but now you're trying to silence me too?!"
This was not the same Rory as before.
He didn't back away, he charged forward.
The first ninja slashed, Rory sidestepped and drove a fist into his chest.
CRASH!
The man flew backwards, demolishing the lab bench.
The second ninja lunged with his blade, only for Rory to catch his wrist mid-swing.
He tried to pull away, but couldn't budge.
With a grunt, Rory slammed him into the ground.
BOOM.
Then,
CRACK.
Rory's foot crushed his chest. No way that guy was surviving.
The other ninja staggered to his feet and tried to escape through the window.
Rory didn't hesitate, he grabbed the dead man's sword and hurled it like a spear.
Slick.
SLAM.
The blade skewered the runner mid-leap, pinning him to the wall.
Rory turned his gaze upward. The rest, whoever was left, were already fleeing across the roof.
He pulled out his phone and called Wilson Fisk.
It was late. The line rang a while before someone finally picked up.
"Kingpin. Get over here. Now."
Before Fisk could even reply, Rory hung up.
"Goddamn lunatic," Fisk grumbled, but still obediently got out of bed.
By the time he arrived, he was stunned by what he saw: a wrecked lab and two corpses.
Rory walked downstairs from the shower, toweling his hair.
"I know you've got dealings with The Hand," he said flatly. "Ask them what the hell this is supposed to mean. And send someone to clean this up. Discreetly."
Fisk said nothing, just nodded and made the call.
He phoned Madam Gao, a senior figure in The Hand. The conversation lasted a few minutes.
While he talked, Rory packed up, blood samples, serums, encrypted drives, hard copies, everything.
When Fisk hung up, Rory turned to him.
Fisk cleared his throat.
"This... might be partially my fault."
Rory said nothing. Just waited.
Fisk sighed.
"I recently had an altercation with a troublesome individual. I handled it... but The Hand noticed the changes in me. They tracked me here through purchase records and visits. They want to know what's happening to my body."
"That's it? That's your explanation?"
Fisk was no fool. One glance at the crushed chest and impaled corpse was enough to know, Rory was much stronger than he was.
This was not the time to pick a fight.
"I'll handle it. I just need some time."
"Three days," Rory said coldly. "No more."
He didn't want distractions. S.H.I.E.L.D. was enough of a threat already.
But if Fisk couldn't give him a clean answer, Rory had no problem wiping out The Hand himself.
Fifteen minutes later, Wesley arrived with two men.
They removed the bodies, cleaned the blood, and even straightened up the lab.
Next morning.
Rory dressed in full incognito mode, baseball cap, sunglasses, and a secured case full of serums and data.
He had to find a new safe house.
As he stepped outside, something felt... off.
The sidewalk was crowded, but a few people kept subtly glancing in his direction.
He climbed into a cab like nothing was wrong.
Through the rearview mirror, he spotted them, two black SUVs tailing him.
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