Respectable People

"Generally speaking, I always have a way of dealing with rich people like you who look down on everyone else." Wilson Fisk kept up his boxing stance, seeming to wait for Salomon to step into the blind spot of the firing line before launching an attack. He refused to show weakness, especially in front of a young man. Yet Salomon merely smiled with open disdain, which angered Wilson Fisk even more—he had only wanted to investigate, but he had not expected such a counterattack. Even so, he remained confident that he could control the situation, because compared with a sniper rifle, his fists were closer.

"Do you want to know what happened to those people?"

"I know. I have evidence of every crime you have committed. Solid evidence—surveillance video, audio recordings, financial transactions, everything points to you. Every text message you send is monitored, and every word you and your men say is backed up through your phones. Oh, and the dashcam recorded you crushing a man's head with a car door not long ago." The Arcanist smiled as he spoke words that could threaten anyone in the age of the Internet.

"I also know how far your investigation into my adoptive mother and me has gone. But unfortunately, that investigation can go no further. I know you can do many things for Vanessa, but I will not allow anyone to use the children at the orphanage as bargaining chips. If you ask the former Mafia godfather Elijah about my name, you will understand what it means. As a warning, I have already dealt with part of your armed forces—if those veterans in cheap suits with new holsters and those little punks wearing gold chains can even be called armed forces."

Wilson Fisk bared his teeth as he felt the