Hell's Kitchen, Kingpin
Xu Mo's infiltration went smoothly.
Until he reached the sixth floor, no alarms had been raised. To be precise—anyone who had discovered him no longer had the chance to report it.
Now, stepping into the seventh floor, Xu Mo recalled the information he had pried from a gang member earlier: the Black Hand Gang was keeping their hostages here.
He began checking each room methodically, knocking out anyone inside who wasn't Pietro. If even one escaped, the building would be crawling with reinforcements in minutes.
But as Xu Mo opened the next door, he froze.
A woman in tactical black slid in from the window on a zipline, rolled cleanly across the floor, and rose to her feet with effortless grace. Her short red hair framed a face Xu Mo recognized immediately.
"Black Widow?"
The woman's sharp eyes narrowed. Natasha Romanoff didn't hesitate—she rushed at him, mistaking him for one of the mafia's enforcers.
Her long leg snapped upward in a brutal kick toward his head. Xu Mo raised his arm, blocking with ease, and pushed back lightly. The force sent her staggering several steps.
Not wanting to alert the gangsters in the building, Xu Mo stepped inside, closed the door behind him—just as Natasha lunged again.
This time she was armed with a pair of batons, spinning them in a blur. She'd realized he was strong—far stronger than the average hired gun—but Natasha Romanoff was never one to back down.
Xu Mo moved faster than she could follow. In a flash, he had her pinned against the bed, disarmed, staring up at him in shock.
"Stop! I'm not with them," Xu Mo said quickly. "I'm here to rescue someone."
Her eyes narrowed, weighing his words. Slowly, Natasha lowered her guard and holstered her batons.
"…Who are you?" she asked.
"Xu Mo. My friend was kidnapped by this gang."
That seemed to line up with her own intel. With a faint smirk, she slipped an ID badge from her pocket.
"Natasha Romanoff. FBI cover. Officially investigating the Black Hand's kidnappings."
Xu Mo didn't bother to hide his skepticism. He knew S.H.I.E.L.D. agents when he saw them, and Natasha Romanoff wasn't the type to play small-time. But in this situation, she was more likely to be an ally than an obstacle.
"Then you should know—you can't handle what's deeper in this building," Xu Mo warned, turning for the door.
Natasha's lips quirked in defiance. "That's none of your business."
She followed him anyway.
---
There weren't many rooms on the floor. Xu Mo soon found Pietro locked inside a corner cell.
The boy's hands and feet were bound, face battered. Clearly, he had resisted his captors.
"Xu?" Pietro's eyes lit up. "What are you doing here?"
"Saving you, obviously," Xu Mo said, quickly undoing the ropes.
But even as he worked, his head tilted. He had heard them—the rush of boots and the metallic click of rifles being readied.
"Wait," Xu Mo muttered.
The door exploded inward, and the corridor filled with armed men. Bullets tore into the room in a storm of lead and smoke.
When the shooting paused for reload, a shadow burst through the haze.
Xu Mo moved like an afterimage, his speed blurring him across the hallway. In seconds, the gunmen dropped one by one, necks twisted at impossible angles.
Pietro stumbled out behind him, wide-eyed. First shocked—then grinning.
"Xu, that was insane! Is this… kung fu?"
"Less talking, more running," Xu Mo snapped, dragging him toward the stairs.
---
They burst out into the street—only to find a mountain of a man waiting for them.
Bald, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he stood with calm menace.
"Impressive," the man rumbled, clapping slowly as he stripped off his jacket. "Few men cut through my soldiers like that. But if you want to walk away with one of my assets…" His cold smile widened. "…you'll have to get my permission."
Xu Mo didn't need introductions. That size, that presence—this was Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin of Hell's Kitchen.
He quickly pointed Pietro toward Wanda's waiting vehicle. "Go. Now. I'll handle this."
Pietro hesitated, then nodded. After what he'd just seen, he knew Xu Mo wasn't bluffing. If he stayed, he'd only slow him down.
But Kingpin wasn't about to let him go. With startling speed for a man his size, Fisk lunged after Pietro.
A blur intercepted him. Xu Mo's kick slammed into Fisk's chest, launching the massive crime lord across the street and through the wall of a nearby apartment.
The impact left a two-meter hole in the plaster. Inside, the terrified tenants—half-dressed, mid-tryst—scrambled away screaming.
Pietro turned back just in time to see the destruction.
His jaw dropped. "…Waltuh?!"
Then, half-dazed, half-awed, he muttered, "Is Xu… some kind of superhero in underwear?"