New York Harbor had once been the site of the battle between the Hulk and Abomination. The two rampaging beasts, both enormously destructive, had nearly razed the docks completely. Only after extensive reconstruction had the harbor regained its fresh new appearance.
An ocean-going freighter bearing the Rand Corporation logo was docked at the harbor. Containers packed with goods were being loaded aboard one after another, and its whistle tore through the night sky. The ship was about to depart.
Sean sat in a sedan, with James Wesley, now the Black Emperor of Hell's Kitchen, serving as his driver. The window slowly rolled down, and the refined man in the front seat greeted the person in charge of the harbor docks.
"Have them wait a while." The hard-hat-wearing supervisor nodded without showing the slightest displeasure.
Sean seemed oblivious to all of it. He looked toward the figure seated beside him—Doctor Doom, wrapped from head to toe in a dark green cloak like a hard, cold statue of steel.
Today was the important day Victor Doom would leave New York and set out on his journey.
"You will have an overseas corporate account. Wesley will provide the funds and manpower to purchase firearms, medical resources, and all kinds of basic infrastructure... all of that will be handled for you—but only if you establish legitimate authority in Latveria. Those Warlords and aristocratic lords who hold vast tracts of land—you must sweep every last one of them into the trash."
Sean spoke casually, yet there was an icy edge in his tone. He wanted Victor Doom to bring hope to Latveria, that backward and remote Eastern European nation, but before peaceful life could arrive, it had to undergo a bloody baptism.
"That country's government is rotten from top to bottom. Money can buy politicians,