Hellfire Club

News of Kingpin's death initially caused a massive uproar in Hell's Kitchen. The Black Emperor who had controlled countless gangs and ruled New York's underworld had died just like that, for no apparent reason.

Whether it was The Hand from Japan, the Russian Mafia, or Mexico's drug dealers, none of them could quite believe it at first. Yet the chaos they had expected never came. James Wesley, Kingpin's personal assistant, was the first to step forward and won the support of many people—though there were dissenters, of course. But after voicing their objections, those people vanished without a trace and could never be found again.

And so, that seemingly refined personal assistant became the inheritor of Kingpin's vast legacy. What followed was a series of asset restructurings and the division of various businesses. Wesley, who had originally handled such matters for Kingpin, did an excellent job. At breakneck speed, he separated the illegal operations from the seemingly legitimate companies.

In other words, Mr. Wesley laundered himself clean in the shortest possible time and became a newly risen tycoon with considerable assets.

As for the other gangs that had intended to seize Hell's Kitchen, Wesley held several rounds of negotiations and divided those highly profitable drug and smuggling businesses among The Hand and the other gangs. Everything returned to its usual calm. There was no anticipated bloody slaughter or gang warfare, and Hell's Kitchen continued along its original course.

"Hellfire Club... What a fitting name."

Sean, wearing a hood, stood outside a nightclub. On the brightly colored sign, a lifelike flame burned.

"Hey, kid..."

The burly guard at the entrance had just been about to stop the young man, who looked like a student, when the icy look in Sean's eyes froze him in place.

"Show some respect. I'm your boss's boss..." Sean said seriously, then walked past the guard and entered the lively nightclub.

A massive, roaring wave of music crashed over him, making the walls tremble faintly. Beneath the dazzling lights, lonely, empty men and women swayed their bodies, freely venting their emotions. Onstage, a fashionably dressed DJ kept igniting the crowd's passion.

The air was thick with alcohol and hormones. This was a breeding ground for sin and desire. Sean looked around. Apart from the urban men and women seeking a good time, there were plenty of private dealers peddling marijuana and drugs, along with provocatively dressed, fiery prostitutes. These were the people who truly made up Hell's Kitchen's massive lower class.

"So this is the real world..." After a brief sigh, Sean followed a waiter to a luxurious private room on the second floor. The soundproofing was excellent; none of the noise outside could reach them.

"It hasn't been easy arranging a meeting with you, Mr. Wesley." Sean lowered his hood, revealing his young face.

"You're joking, boss. If you hadn't insisted on concealing your identity, you'd be the one sitting here now." The elegant man eagerly offered him red wine and cigars. "These are the finest. Would you like to try them, boss?"

Sean waved a hand, indicating that he had no need for them. "You've done well. We don't need to rely on illegal businesses for enormous profits. Those other gangs entrenched in Hell's Kitchen think they've gotten a huge bargain, but Daredevil and Punisher will find them sooner or later. Eighty percent of Hell's Kitchen's real estate is under our name, along with Manhattan's commercial district. That's enough for you to keep the company running."

Wesley nodded. He glanced at his new boss's youthful face, feeling conflicted. Who could have imagined that this sunny young man, who looked so harmless, had killed Kingpin and Bullseye, then elevated him in one stroke into Hell's Kitchen's new elite?

"Will there be any problems on Mr. Leland's end?" Wesley asked. Leland had also been one of Kingpin's trusted men, a financial expert responsible for managing the books and business dealings.

"Smart people know what to do. Besides, I've always been good at solving problems."

Sean smiled faintly. Wesley could not help lowering his posture slightly. He was also a smart man, so he naturally understood what his new boss's methods of solving problems were like.

"For now, I don't need you to become the boss of Hell's Kitchen. Let those gangs fight and scramble for it. We don't need to care... Once we no longer need to keep a low profile, we can sweep in and clear out all those mongrel gangs in one go. By then, you'll become the second Kingpin."

"The new ruler of Hell's Kitchen, the new emperor of New York's underworld!"

The young man spoke casually, but the bright future he described was enough to make Wesley's heart surge and his blood boil. How many people could spend their entire lives without ever reaching that position?

Wesley suppressed his excitement and said calmly, "All of this belongs to you, boss."

Sean neither confirmed nor denied it. Smart people always had ambitions. He was not at all afraid that Wesley would betray him, because Wesley saw things clearly. Even a powerful figure like Kingpin had died by Sean's hand. As long as Wesley compared himself to Kingpin, he would not attempt any foolish decisions.

"I'll probably be busy for a while. If there's anything you can't resolve, contact me."

Sean sat in the luxurious private room and watched the scene of wild revelry downstairs for a while before preparing to leave. There was still a little girl waiting for him at home.

Kingpin's money and assets were the foundation for Sean's first step forward. He had no interest in becoming New York's Black Emperor. Underground forces would never truly step into the spotlight; compared to military-industrial giants like Stark Industries and powerful organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D., they were far too insignificant.

Now that Connors's experimental funding problem had been resolved, Osborn Industries should be next. After so much time had passed, Green Goblin and Spider-Man should be approaching their final confrontation.

After all, the news said that Norman Osborn had not shown his face for a long time. Clearly, the Human Enhancement Serum had completely awakened the negative emotions within him. That body was now dominated by Green Goblin's dark personality.

"There should be quite a show to watch."

As Sean walked out of the nightclub, he thought this to himself. His gaze fell upon the flames on the sign, and he thought of the Mutants again. It was not yet the right time to make contact with them. Especially before he could resist Professor X's Mind Power, it was better to keep his distance.

"Kingpin, Norman Osborn... Who will be next?"

Silently counting the good cards in his hand, Sean could not help feeling a wave of satisfaction. He was shedding his weakness bit by bit and growing stronger at an astonishing pace. Even when the age of Superheroes arrived, he would already stand at the forefront of the world.

Having come to such a dangerous yet wonderful world, how could Sean be content merely to stand below and look up at those Superheroes? He wanted to control his own destiny—and, incidentally, everyone else's as well!

"Hellfire Club... Interesting."

The young man's eyes were deep and unfathomable as his figure gradually disappeared into the darkness.