The next morning.
Justice League Base, Underground Equipment Department.
This is Luca and Tony's private playground.
Holographic control panels and various exaggeratedly shaped robotic arms are placed everywhere.
At this moment, Luca stood in the center of the laboratory.
Standing opposite them were two new members of the Justice League.
Matt Murdock, and the menacing Frank.
"Listen, you two."
Luca walked to a silver metal control panel.
"Although I really don't want to hand over Tony's brilliant invention to two amateurs who only know how to fight in the streets."
"But since you've joined the Justice League, I can only reluctantly offer you some technological assistance."
As he spoke, he snapped his the Snap, and the metal plate on the control panel slowly slid open to reveal two sets of high-tech equipment.
Frank's eyes lit up the moment he saw the equipment on the left.
It was a heavy rifle, and next to it was a backpack shaped like a tortoise shell.
"This is a Gauss armor-piercing rifle."
Luca walked over, picked up a rifle, and tossed it to Frank.
"The traditional gunpowder firing method has been eliminated, and a miniature electromagnetic track is used for acceleration."
"The bullets fired from this gun can easily penetrate the armor of a tank from a kilometer away."
"As for those gangsters hiding behind the walls in Hell's Kitchen? They're no different in front of it than hiding behind a window."
Furick caught the rifle steadily and skillfully pulled the bolt back.
Hearing the crisp snapping sound, he laughed cruelly.
"Good gun. Much better than those junk guns the military has."
"Of course, this is Stark product."
Luca smiled confidently and pointed to his backpack.
"This is a miniature tracking missile backpack. It contains thirty-two thermal imaging miniature missiles."
"Once you press the switch, it will automatically connect to Stark Industries ' satellite network and lock onto all enemies within your line of sight."
"You just have to walk in and watch them turn into fireworks."
Frank took a deep breath, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and nodded in satisfaction.
With this equipment, one person can win a local war.
Then, Luca turned to look at Matt.
As for you, The Pianist of the Sea.
He picked up a silver cane from his right and handed it to Matt.
"You have quite a few requirements; you want someone who won't kill you, but who can also fight. That's why I had this new type of white cane custom-made for you."
Matt reached out and took the cane; it felt slightly heavy in his hand, and its surface had a peculiar texture.
"I installed a miniature ultrasonic radar inside, which can convert all the terrain information within a radius of 500 meters into electrical signals and transmit them directly to your auditory nerve."
"In addition, it also has the function of bioelectric stimulation."
"If you strike the ground with it, the released electric current can incapacitate an ordinary person within twenty meters; of course, not even a mouse can escape."
"Well, this perfectly meets your hypocritical standard of not killing people."
Matt was speechless for a moment.
This guy's talk is so irritating!
How am I being hypocritical?!
But holding the white cane, his fingers gently traced the patterns on it.
He could still clearly feel that with the white cane, his perception had been amplified countless times.
"Thank you. This is exactly what I needed," Matt said sincerely.
Luca shrugged and spread his hands.
"You're welcome, it's just an employee benefit."
"Alright, we've got the equipment. Now let's talk about work."
The two exchanged a glance and looked over, their expressions serious.
Luca nodded in satisfaction and smiled gently.
" Frank, Matt, I'm providing you with weapons, not so you can go to Hell's Kitchen and play some kind of heroic game of punishing evil."
"Today I'm going to have you thoroughly clean Hell's Kitchen. I'm going to uproot Hell's Kitchen."
Matt frowned and asked, somewhat puzzled.
"Boss, you mean...?"
"What I mean is, control of commercial land."
Luca sneered and revealed his true purpose.
" Kingpin is a shrewd businessman; he's a force to be reckoned with in Hell's Kitchen, controlling 80 percent of New York's underground trade."
"But unfortunately, I don't like having a boss in New York other than myself."
"Tonight, I'm going to make him understand that on New York's turf, Stark is the sole rule-maker."
Luca patted Frank on the shoulder, his eyes filled with murderous intent.
"Those who disobey, those who refuse to hand over their territory, Frank will be responsible for their salvation. Not a single one will be spared."
Frank grinned, revealing a bloodthirsty smile.
"As you wish, boss. I will scatter their ashes down the drain."
Matt wanted to say something, but he swallowed the words back.
He knew that no one could change Luca's decision.
Moreover, if this opportunity can be used to eliminate Kingpin's forces, it might not be a bad thing for the civilians of Hell's Kitchen.
At the same time.
Hell's Kitchen, Fisk Tower.
Kingpin, whose physique resembled a mountain of flesh, stood before the floor-to-ceiling window.
Today, he was wearing a white suit.
He was holding a glass of whiskey, looking down at the chaotic neighborhood below.
But now, the composure and domineering aura of the underground emperor were gone, replaced by anxiety.
"Boss."
A bald henchman pushed open the office door and strode in, his voice tinged with panic.
"Our informant just reported that Daredevil and the Punisher were spotted in New York today with Luca, and... they were carrying Stark Industries equipment."
Upon hearing this news, Kingpin paused, the liquid in his glass swirling.
In an instant, a strong sense of unease spread through my heart.
He knew all too well the Stark brothers' power.
These two guys aren't human at all; they're more like monsters in human skin.
If Daredevil and the Punisher were to actually join the Justice League, it would be a deadly threat to him.
However, after all, he had spent so many years navigating the underworld.
His arrogance still gave him a sliver of hope.
What's the panic?
On the surface, Kingpin snorted coldly and downed the wine in his glass in one gulp.
"No matter how strong Stark is, this is Hell's Kitchen, my territory!"
"I've been operating here for over a decade, with hundreds, even thousands, of men under my command. Even the New York police don't dare to just walk in!"
At this point, Kingpin turned around, slammed his glass heavily on the table, and his gaze turned sinister.
"We all know that the Stark brothers are capitalists who do big business."
"As long as we don't provoke them or touch their core interests."
"Then, they definitely wouldn't make a big fuss in Hell's Kitchen for a few street thugs and some shady business."
"After all, that's not in line with their status."
Kingpin this way, and at the same time, he was comforting his men.
However, he still dared not let his guard down and immediately issued an order.
"Pass down the order! Put everyone on high alert! Load all weapons! Anyone who dares to cause trouble in Hell's Kitchen today will be sent to meet God."
"Yes, boss!" The bald subordinate acknowledged the order and withdrew.
Kingpin watched the sky outside the window gradually darken, silently praying in his heart.
Everything will be alright. As long as we get through these few days and things calm down, Hell's Kitchen will be Wilson Fisk's domain again.