Ferguson Pier area.
Mr. Fisk's private berth.
This place was a stark contrast to the chaos and squalor of Hell's Kitchen.
The ground was so clean it reflected light.
Tall containers, like silent steel giants, were neatly arranged.
There was no stench in the air.
Only the cold sea breeze and the smell of diesel.
Security personnel in black suits, sunglasses, and communication earpieces were everywhere.
They stood tall, their steps steady.
Their gazes cautiously scanned every corner.
Like a pack of well-trained sheepdogs guarding their Master's pen.
William's Audi and Jack's taxi were stopped outside the cordon.
Two security guards approached.
One, the leader, was burly.
A grotesque scar on his chin marred the sense of decorum provided by his suit.
"Mr. Rodriguez?"
Scarface's voice was low, devoid of any emotion.
William rolled down the window, a professional smile on his face.
"That's me. Mr. Fisk arranged for me to handle the handover."
Scarface's gaze lingered on William for two seconds, then swept over the incongruous taxi behind them. He frowned slightly but didn't ask further questions.
He whispered a few words into his earpiece, then received the clearance to proceed.
"Please follow me. Mr. Fisk instructed that the container is ready and can be loaded at any time."
William and Jack parked their cars in the designated spot and followed Scarface towards the heavily guarded container in the center of the pier.
A ten-meter radius clear area had been established around this container.
Four security guards stood at each corner, ready to instantly lock down any attempt to approach.
"Very good."
William nodded, his tone businesslike.
"Before loading, I need to conduct a final risk assessment of the cargo; this is a necessary step for the insurance contract."
Scarface stopped, turned around, and the look in his eyes beneath his sunglasses sharpened.
"Mr. Rodriguez, Mr. Fisk's order is that no one is to open the container before transport."
"Of course, I won't open it."
William spread his hands, his expression innocent yet professional.
"I don't have the password, nor do I have the key. I just need to enter the container alone to perform a close-range structural stability assessment of the independent package inside."
"You know, to prevent damage to the 'artwork' from bumps during transport. My report needs to include this, otherwise, the policy cannot take effect."
This explanation was foolproof.
Scarface had clearly never dealt with such a situation; he hesitated.
William's identity as an "insurance consultant" had been personally confirmed by Kingpin, but the "no opening" order also came from Kingpin.
"I need to consult Mr. Fisk."
He ultimately made the safest decision.
"Please do."
William smiled, gesturing for him to proceed.
Scarface walked to the side, making a low-voiced call on an encrypted line.
William could vaguely hear his report.
"...Yes, Master... He says he needs to conduct a risk assessment for insurance purposes... No, he didn't ask to open it, just wants to go in and see the box... Yes, Master, I understand."
The call ended, and Scarface walked back, his expression returning to its previous calm.
"Mr. Fisk has agreed. He trusts your professionalism, Mr. Rodriguez."
He waved to the other four guards.
"You all, stand guard outside. Give him five minutes."
"Thank you."
William adjusted his tie, as if he truly was just about to perform a tedious inspection.
The heavy container door was opened.
A blast of cold, long-sealed air rushed out.
William walked in alone.
With a "click," the heavy iron door slowly closed behind him, cutting off all external light and sound.
Darkness and dead silence instantly swallowed him.
William stood still, quietly adapting to the absolute darkness.
His breathing was steady, his heartbeat strong.
His Danger Prediction ability had not issued any warnings, which indicated there were no direct traps targeting him inside the container.
Tactical Vision quietly activated.
In the darkness, the outlines of objects became clear in his eyes.
In the exact center of the container, firmly secured to the floor by several high-strength alloy chains, was a box about two meters long, and nearly one meter wide and high, made entirely of a special alloy.
The box was dark silver.
Its surface was smooth, without any markings.
Only a complex electronic password lock glowed with a faint red light in the darkness.
This was Kingpin's "artwork."
William even felt a hint of anticipation.
He was like a child about to open a blind box.
Except the value of this blind box might be a matter of life and death.
He stepped forward.
He didn't rush to use his abilities but first observed in the most primitive way.
His left hand, wearing the "foolproof plan" armor, gently touched the box.
A cold, hard sensation came from his fingertips.
Mechanical Induction activated.
Instantly, the box was no longer a solid entity in his mind but transformed into a complex, translucent structural blueprint.
The tightness of the screws, the density of the alloy plates, and... the precise life support system inside.
There was a heartbeat, breathing, and a faint bioelectric field.
William's eyebrows raised slightly.
Not an item, but a living being.
Protected animal?
Kingpin shouldn't be involved in that.
Next, his fingertips traced the electronic lock.
Data Touch activated.
Massive data streams instantly flooded his perception.
Inside were complex encryption protocols, multiple biometric authentications, and a self-destruct program connected to remote heart rate monitoring.
If the life signs inside the box disappeared, or the password was entered incorrectly more than three times, the internal high-voltage capacitors would instantly discharge, incinerating everything within.
Kingpin's methods were indeed foolproof.
William took a deep breath.
Routine investigation ended here.
He had confirmed the risk level — extremely high.
But what he needed to know was the source of the risk.
He stepped back two paces, closed his eyes, and focused his mind intensely.
"Phase Shift."
A strange vibrating sensation emanated from the deepest part of his body.
Every cell began to resonate at a new frequency.
His body's outline started to blur.
Its edges emitted a faint blue light, like the static seen on a bad television signal.
The material of the real World lost its solidity in his eyes, becoming a translucent phantom composed of countless vibrating particles.
His head extended forward.
Without obstruction, silently, he merged into the cold alloy box.
No collision, no sound, just like a wisp of smoke passing through a door crack.
When his vision refocused, he saw what was inside the box.
His heart, which had remained calm and calculating, suddenly lurched.
There were no beasts, no monsters, and certainly no high-tech weapons in the box.
A woman lay inside.
She wore a red, form-fitting battle suit with a strong oriental flair, her long black hair spread out like a waterfall.
Her body was encased in some kind of transparent, gel-like substance.
Her eyes were closed, her face exquisite and stern.
Even in her unconscious state, she exuded a chilling killing intent that pushed others away.
Countless wires and sensors were attached to her body, connecting to the life support system on the inner wall of the box.
The screen displayed stable heart rate and breathing data.
William recognized this face.
He had seen her in files and reports.
The Hand's top assassin.
Daredevil Matt Murdock's lifelong inescapable nightmare.
The woman who should have been dead.
Elektra Natchios.
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 40 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
[patreon.com/TripleCrown07]
Thank you so much for your support!!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"