# Chapter 9: Kingpin
One Week Later
The high-end computer equipment had arrived as promised, transforming the small apartment above Lin Chen's shop into something resembling a sophisticated surveillance center.
Daisy had spent three days assembling and configuring the system, her eyes lighting up with genuine joy as she integrated multiple monitors, processors, and networking equipment into a seamless operation.
Lin Chen stood behind her, watching the screens display real-time feeds from across New York City.
Her surveillance program had evolved significantly—now capable of monitoring police frequencies, emergency services, traffic cameras, and even certain private security systems throughout the city.
"The money situation is handled," Daisy said without looking away from her screens, her fingers dancing across multiple keyboards simultaneously. "I've distributed the funds through several digital channels. It's clean enough that no one will ask questions."
She didn't elaborate on the technical details, and Lin Chen didn't ask.
Her expertise had proven reliable, and the results spoke for themselves—the money was now usable without attracting unwanted attention.
The past week had been productive. With Daisy's surveillance system operational, Lin Chen had responded to multiple criminal incidents across Hell's Kitchen and the surrounding areas.
Lin Chen's version allowed him to sense his environment through sound, vibration, and air currents with remarkable precision. Combined with his already enhanced physical senses, he could now operate effectively even in complete darkness.
"Boss, we have a problem," Daisy announced suddenly, her tone shifting to concern. "Someone's been trying to identify you. Multiple sophisticated attempts to trace your movements, cross-reference security footage, even some attempts to hack into my systems."
Lin Chen moved closer to observe her screens. "How sophisticated?"
"Professional level. Not government—the signature is different. This is private sector, probably organized crime with serious resources." Daisy's fingers flew across her keyboards, displaying various intrusion attempts and countermeasures. "But don't worry, I've been covering your tracks.
Whoever this is, they're getting nowhere. Every lead I'm feeding them goes cold, every facial recognition search comes up empty, and every digital footprint you leave gets scrubbed within minutes."
"Can you identify who's looking for me?"
"Working on it," Daisy said, opening new windows filled with data streams.
"Based on the resources being deployed and the geographic focus on Hell's Kitchen... my best guess is Wilson Fisk. The Kingpin."
Lin Chen nodded slowly. He'd been expecting this. His interference with criminal operations throughout the territory Fisk considered his personal domain would naturally attract the crime lord's attention.
"Keep monitoring their attempts," Lin Chen instructed. "But don't engage directly. I'd rather they keep wasting resources on a ghost."
Over the following weeks, Lin Chen established a routine: respond to incidents involving enhanced individuals or high-level criminals, and eliminate threats that posed danger to innocent civilians. His methods were efficient if not always gentle—criminals who chose violence found themselves facing overwhelming force.
However, there was a frustrating limitation to his growth. The common criminals and thugs he encountered were so far beneath his current power level that his system absorbed nothing from them. No matter how many gang members he fought, his attributes remained unchanged—the system's rule was absolute. He could only gain from sources that exceeded his current capabilities.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Target power levels insufficient for attribute absorption]
[Current targets: 0.08-0.15 tons average strength]
[Host strength: 203.4 tons]
[Absorption blocked due to massive differential]
"This is getting ridiculous," Lin Chen muttered one evening after clearing out an entire drug operation without gaining a single point of improvement.
"What's wrong, boss?" Daisy asked through his earpiece, munching on what sounded like potato chips.
"Nothing..."
"Aww, poor super-strong boss looking serious," Daisy teased. "That must be so hard for you. Here I am, eating chips and watching you throw people through walls on camera, and you're complaining about not leveling up fast enough."
Lin Chen couldn't help but smile at her tone. "You're enjoying this too much."
"Maybe a little," she admitted.
"But seriously, boss, you're strong enough to bench press a tanker."
"..."
"So I need to wait for bigger fish," Lin Chen thought.
Daisy interrupted. "Which, by the way, I've been working on. My surveillance system is expanding beyond Hell's Kitchen."
The underground criminal network was beginning to whisper about a masked figure who appeared at crime scenes, possessed impossible strength, and left bodies in his wake.
But thanks to Daisy's efforts, no one could identify him, track him, or predict where he would strike next.
Three Weeks After Initial Surveillance Detection
"Boss, I've got something big," Daisy's voice came through Lin Chen's earpiece as he perched on a rooftop overlooking Hell's Kitchen. "Major weapons transfer happening at the old Rand Consolidated warehouse on Pier 57. We're talking serious hardware—military grade equipment, possibly even experimental technology."
Lin Chen's enhanced vision focused on the location Daisy had indicated. "Who's involved?"
"That's the interesting part. Multiple criminal organizations are participating—looks like a coalition deal. And boss? Wilson Fisk is there personally. This might be your chance to finally meet the man who's been trying so hard to find you."
Lin Chen considered this for a moment. Fisk's presence at an active criminal operation was unusual—the crime lord typically maintained distance from direct involvement, using proxies and intermediaries to insulate himself from prosecution.
For him to appear in person suggested this transaction was particularly important.
"Send me the building layout," Lin Chen said, already moving toward the warehouse.
"Already done. Be careful, boss. There are at least forty armed personnel on site, plus whatever enhanced security Fisk brought with him."
Lin Chen approached the warehouse with supernatural stealth, his enhanced perception allowing him to map the positions of every person inside through sound and vibration alone.
The main transaction was taking place in the central loading area—crates of weapons being inspected by representatives from various criminal organizations while armed guards maintained a perimeter.
And there, in the center of it all, stood Wilson Fisk.
The crime lord was even more imposing in person than in photographs—nearly seven feet tall, his massive frame clothed in an immaculately tailored white suit that probably cost more than most cars.
Despite his size, he moved with surprising grace, and his expression conveyed the calm confidence of someone accustomed to controlling every situation he entered.
Lin Chen observed for several more minutes, absorbing the scene and waiting for the optimal moment to act. The transaction was nearly complete—money had changed hands, weapons were being loaded for transport, and the various criminal representatives were preparing to depart.
That's when Lin Chen made his move.
He dropped through a skylight in the warehouse roof, landing in the center of the loading area with enough force to crack the concrete floor. The impact sent a shockwave through the building, causing everyone to stumble and weapons to clatter to the ground.
Forty guns immediately pointed in his direction.
"Gentleman," Lin Chen said calmly, his masked face surveying the assembled criminals. "I'm afraid this transaction is cancelled."
"Kill him!" someone shouted, and the warehouse erupted in gunfire.
Lin Chen didn't bother dodging. Bullets struck his enhanced body and simply bounced off, ricocheting harmlessly across the warehouse floor.
His physique had reached levels where conventional firearms posed no threat whatsoever.
The criminals' confident expressions transformed into terror as they realized their weapons were useless.
Lin Chen moved like a hurricane through the warehouse. His enhanced speed made him appear as little more than a blur, while his strength turned every strike into a devastating attack.
Bodies flew through the air, weapons shattered, and within thirty seconds the warehouse floor was littered with injured, unconscious or bleeding dead criminals.
Throughout the carnage, Wilson Fisk hadn't moved. He stood perfectly still, his expression carefully neutral as he watched this masked figure systematically dismantle forty armed men with terrifying ease.
But Lin Chen's enhanced perception detected the tells—the increased heart rate, the slight tension in Fisk's massive shoulders, the way his hands had instinctively clenched into fists.
The Kingpin was afraid, even if he'd never admit it.
When the last of Fisk's men fell, Lin Chen walked slowly toward the crime lord, his footsteps echoing in the now-silent warehouse.
Fisk's security detail—the personal bodyguards who had been standing near him—made no move to intervene. They'd just witnessed what happened to the others, and survival instinct overrode their professional loyalty.
"Wilson Fisk," Lin Chen said, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of power. "The Kingpin of Crime. I've heard you've been looking for me."
Fisk's expression remained controlled, but his eyes betrayed his assessment of the situation.
Cold sweat is visible on his forehead.
He was a brilliant tactician who had survived decades in the criminal underworld by knowing when he held the advantage and when he was outmatched.
Right now, he was catastrophically outmatched.
"You've been disrupting operations throughout my territory," Fisk said, his cultured voice steady despite the circumstances. "Killing my associates, interfering with established business arrangements. I wanted to identify you, understand your motivations, perhaps find a way to... resolve our conflict."
"And now that I'm here?" Lin Chen asked, taking another step closer.
Fisk didn't back away, but his bodyguards did. "Now I see that conventional approaches would be ineffective. You possess capabilities far beyond what my intelligence suggested."
Lin Chen's enhanced perception detected something interesting—Fisk was genuinely terrified, but he was also impressed. The crime lord appreciated power when he saw it, even when that power was being used against him.
"I have a proposition," Lin Chen said. "I could kill you right now. Your bodyguards won't stop me, your weapons are useless, and your organization would collapse into chaos within hours of your death."
Fisk's jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
"But," Lin Chen continued, "your death would create a power vacuum that would lead to a war for control of Hell's Kitchen. Hundreds of innocent people would die in the crossfire. That's not an outcome I want."
"What do you want?" Fisk asked, his tactical mind already calculating possibilities.
"Thirty million dollars," Lin Chen stated simply. "Transferred to accounts I'll specify, documented as payment for security consulting services. Completely legal, completely clean, with all appropriate paperwork."
Fisk blinked, clearly not having expected such a straightforward demand. "You're asking me to pay you?"
"I'm offering you a business arrangement," Lin Chen corrected. "Thirty million is a fraction of what you'd spend trying to eliminate me—assuming you even could. And the resulting conflict would destabilize your entire organization. This way, you maintain control, I receive funding for my operations, and we avoid a mutually destructive confrontation."
"And what do you offer in return?"
"I'll stop targeting your operations directly," Lin Chen said. "Unless those operations involve direct harm to innocent civilians—human trafficking, forced prostitution, violence against non-combatants. Those activities end immediately, or our agreement is void."
Lin Chen took another step forward, and this time Fisk did step back slightly. "To be clear, Mr. Fisk—I'm not asking for your permission to operate in Hell's Kitchen. I'm offering you the opportunity to avoid becoming my enemy. Your choice."
The silence stretched between them, heavy with implications.
Lin Chen's enhanced perception detected Fisk's internal struggle—pride warring with pragmatism, anger competing with survival instinct.
Finally, Fisk spoke. "How do I contact you?"
Lin Chen pulled out a phone and placed it on a nearby crate. "This is a secure device. Use it to arrange the transfer. You have forty-eight hours."
"And if I refuse?"
Lin Chen's response was to reach out and grab one of the steel support beams of the warehouse—a massive I-beam that formed part of the building's structural framework. He squeezed, and his fingers sank into the metal like it was clay. Then, with casual strength, he tore a section of the beam completely free, rending steel that should have required cutting torches and heavy machinery.
The warehouse groaned ominously, and several smaller beams shifted as the structural integrity was compromised.
"Then I dismantle your organization piece by piece," Lin Chen said calmly, dropping the twisted metal at Fisk's feet. "Starting with every warehouse, office, and facility you own. And when there's nothing left but rubble, I'll find you and end this permanently."
Fisk stared at the mangled steel, his expression carefully controlled but his body language betraying his shock.
In decades of criminal operations, dealing with enhanced individuals and superhuman threats, he'd never encountered someone with this level of raw power delivered with such cold precision.
"I'll have the funds transferred within forty-eight hours," Fisk said quietly.
Lin Chen nodded and turned to leave, then paused.
"One more thing, Mr. Fisk. Stop trying to identify me. My associate has been very entertained watching your attempts fail, but continued surveillance will be taken as a hostile act. We have an agreement now—let's both benefit from it."
With that, Lin Chen launched himself upward through the skylight he'd entered from, disappearing into the New York night and leaving Fisk alone with his unconscious security team and the wreckage of what should have been a profitable evening.
In his earpiece, Daisy's voice was filled with amazement. "Boss, that was incredible! You just extorted thirty million dollars from the Kingpin!"
"I prefer to think of it as negotiating a strategic business arrangement,"
Lin Chen replied as he moved across rooftops toward home.
"You terrified him,"
Daisy said. "Wilson Fisk, the man who's supposed to be fearless, was genuinely afraid of you."
"Fear can be useful," Lin Chen acknowledged.
"But respect is more valuable. Now he knows I could have killed him but chose not to. That will make him honor our agreement."
True to his word, forty-seven hours later, Lin Chen's bank accounts began receiving transfers totaling exactly thirty million dollars.
Each transaction was properly documented with invoices, contracts, and tax documentation that would satisfy even aggressive audits. Fisk had kept his word, and the money was completely clean and legal.
More importantly, Fisk's organization immediately ceased its most egregious activities—the human trafficking operations shut down overnight, forced prostitution rings were disbanded, and violence against civilians dropped dramatically. The crime lord had clearly decided that maintaining his empire was more important than pride, and if the price of survival was cleaning up his worst activities, then that was a price he would pay.
One Month Later
Lin Chen's operations had expanded significantly.
The thirty million from Fisk, combined with the cleaned money from previous operations, gave him total liquid capital of approximately 31.2 million dollars—more wealth than he could have imagined just weeks earlier.
He had moved his base to a larger facility—a converted warehouse in a transitional neighborhood that provided both security and space for Daisy's expanding surveillance systems.
The young hacker had assembled a truly impressive computing array, allowing her to monitor activities across the entire metropolitan area.
Lin Chen's attributes remained at their current levels.
While his raw physical attributes hadn't increased, Lin Chen had gained something perhaps more valuable—experience and refinement.
His combat techniques had improved through constant practice, his tactical thinking had sharpened through real-world application, and his control over his various abilities had become more precise.
"You know," Daisy said one evening as Lin Chen returned from another patrol.
"What?" Lin Chen asked, removing his mask and accepting the bottle of water she offered.
"You're ridiculously overpowered for 100% of threats," she replied, settling onto the couch with her laptop. "I mean, you can lift hundreds of tons according to my surveillance and survive explosions. Most superheroes would kill for half your abilities."
"—"``
Then her cheeks flushed slightly as she realized how that might sound. "I mean... what I'm saying is, boss, I also wish to have powers and protect the peoples."
Lin Chen looked at her thoughtfully. "When did you get so philosophical?"
"I've been reading," she said defensively. "Lots of comic books and manga."
"Are you comparing this life to a comic book plot?"
"Boss, you literally fought the that monster and defeated successfully. Your life IS a comic book plot."
Lin Chen couldn't argue with that logic.
The arrangement with Fisk had proven mutually beneficial.
The crime lord's empire continued operating, but his worst activities had ceased.
Lin Chen focused on eliminating truly dangerous threats—violent gangs, rogue enhanced individuals, and criminals who preyed on innocents.
The resulting stability had actually reduced overall violence in Hell's Kitchen, though neither man would publicly acknowledge their cooperation.
It was during one of his routine patrols that Daisy's urgent voice crackled through his earpiece.
"Boss, you need to see this. CNN is breaking a major story."
Lin Chen paused on a rooftop, pulling out his phone to access the news feed Daisy had sent him.
The headline dominated the screen: "BILLIONAIRE INDUSTRIALIST TONY STARK MISSING IN AFGHANISTAN"
The news report detailed how Tony Stark, genius inventor and CEO of Stark Industries, had been demonstrating new weapons technology for the U.S. military when his convoy was attacked.
Stark was presumed captured or killed, and the Department of Defense was conducting a massive search operation.
Lin Chen stared at the screen, his mind immediately calculating the implications. This was it—the event that would transform Tony Stark from weapons manufacturer to Iron Man.
The beginning of the superhero age that would reshape the world.
"Daisy," Lin Chen said slowly, "I need you to begin monitoring all communications related to Stark Industries. Everything—stock prices, corporate communications, contracts, search operations. All of it."
"Already on it, boss," she replied. "This is big, isn't it?"
"Bigger than you can imagine," Lin Chen said, his eyes still fixed on the news report showing Tony Stark's last known location. "The world is about to change, and we need to be ready."
He watched the news report continue, detailing the frantic search efforts and the global implications of Stark's disappearance.