Become Kingpin and build a hero mercenary company.

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Wesley reported to Kingpin on the latest developments regarding the fan phenomenon: "...Overall, the benefits outweigh the drawbacks. It has enhanced the public image of heroes and the association's approachability, which has indirectly increased the public's sense of identification with and tolerance of the association. If guided properly, these fan groups can become an important supplementary force in our public opinion field."

Kingpin stood by the window, looking down at the city, his gaze deep and unfathomable.

“Control the scale.” He instructed in a low voice, “Heroes can be role models, they can be symbols, but they cannot be reduced to entertainers. All publicity and interaction must serve the association’s core goal—to establish order and establish authority.”

What he needs is a "guardian angel" who is respected and even revered, not a "star" for people's entertainment.

“Understood.” Wesley bowed. “We will develop more detailed ‘Hero Public Image Management Rules’ to ensure that everything is under control.”

The heroes of the Hero Association have unknowingly been thrust into the spotlight of the times. They have gained power, received rewards, and now, have gained admirers.

The cheers and light sticks from fans, like sweet shackles, bring glory and recognition, but also begin to subtly influence the heroes' mentality and future choices.

The path of a professional hero is more complex and more... compelling than any of them could have imagined.

Chapter 44: Kingpin's Speech: The Value of Heroes

Not far from the headquarters of the Hero Association, a solemn yet simple podium was temporarily erected in front of the grand staircase of the New York Public Library. A huge Hero Association emblem adorned the backdrop, below which stood a striking title: "On the Value of Heroes—Contribution, Reward, and a Sustainable Future."

Below the stage, hundreds of people had gathered in a dense crowd. There were reporters from major media outlets, their cameras and microphones already on standby; there were invited sociologists, economists, and ethics committee members, their faces filled with scrutiny and curiosity; and many more were ordinary citizens who had come spontaneously, including numerous fans holding signs of support or hero placards. At the edge of the crowd, one could also see several plainclothes S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, their serious expressions and out-of-place demeanor contrasting sharply with their surroundings, as well as observers sent by Stark Industries.

A restless anticipation filled the air. Everyone wanted to know what new ideas Kingpin, the reclusive founder of the association, would offer after dropping the bombshell of "professionalizing heroes" and the association had begun to flex its muscles and influence.

There were no lengthy opening remarks, no tedious introductions. When the time came, Wilson Fisk, Kingpin, his massive, mountain-like figure appeared behind the podium. He was, as always, wearing a well-tailored dark suit, his bald head reflecting a cold, hard sheen in the sunlight. Just standing there, his invisible pressure quickly silenced the noisy audience.

He didn't look at the teleprompter; his gaze calmly swept over the crowd below, and his deep, magnetic voice clearly resonated throughout the square through the high-quality amplification system.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his opening remarks direct and forceful. "Not long ago, I announced the founding of the Hero Association here and put forward a concept that may have seemed somewhat unorthodox at the time—that being a hero can be a profession."

“During this time, we have heard many voices. There is attention, there is encouragement, but more often, there is doubt, and even… ridicule.” His tone was flat, without any emotion, as if he were stating a fact that had nothing to do with him. “Some people think that we have tainted the purity of heroes with money; some people think that we have stifled the individuality of heroes with rules and regulations; and some people even think that we are building a mercenary organization that only cares about profit.”

The audience was completely silent; everyone held their breath.

"Today, I want to discuss with you a core issue that many people have intentionally or unintentionally ignored, or are unwilling to face squarely—how should the value of heroes be reflected, and how should it be guaranteed?"

He paused slightly, letting the question resonate in everyone's mind.

“We admire those selfless individuals who burn themselves to light up others. This spirit is undoubtedly noble and a vital force driving society toward good.” Kingpin then shifted his tone, “However, when we demand that individuals with extraordinary abilities, who bear enormous risks, and who safeguard the peace of our cities must, and can only, exist in this way of ‘burning themselves,’ isn’t that itself a kind of…injustice, or even cruelty?”

His voice rose slightly, carrying an undeniable force.

"Heroes are also human beings. They have families, lives, hopes for the future, and fears of injury and death. When they are injured while saving others, who will cover their exorbitant medical expenses? When they tragically sacrifice their lives, who will comfort their grieving families? As they put themselves in danger day after day, what will be their basic source of livelihood? Can they rely solely on their passion and occasional social donations?"

A series of pointed questions struck everyone like a hammer blow. Many citizens wore thoughtful expressions, and some scholars began to nod slightly.

"The association's philosophy is not to deny the spirit of dedication," Kingpin continued, his tone regaining its composure. "What we need to do is to build a sustainable and fair system so that those who dedicate themselves have no worries, and so that heroism can exist as a healthy and sustainable force, rather than burning brightly like a meteor and then fading away."

“We provide heroes with salaries, medical care, disability benefits, and retirement plans not to ‘buy’ them, but to acknowledge and respect their value, and to enable them to fulfill their duties with greater dignity and peace of mind! This is an investment, the most important investment in social stability and future security!”

He raised his hand and pointed to the association's emblem behind him.

"As for rules and regulations, some say they are constraints. But I believe they are a necessary requirement for professionalism and a manifestation of responsibility!" His voice became firm and powerful. "A powerful individual who acts without restraint, solely based on personal preferences, is dangerous and unpredictable. The association's rules and regulations are not meant to stifle individuality, but to ensure that the power of heroes is used in the right direction, ensuring that their actions are more efficient, cause less collateral damage, and truly protect those who need protection!"

"Look at our record!" Kingpin's tone carried a hint of pride (or rather, the calm confidence of showcasing achievements). "Sandman, the Psychic, Daredevil, Spider-Man... and all our heroes, within the framework of our system, successfully handled dozens of extraordinary incidents, greatly reducing civilian casualties and property damage! Our logistical system ensured the battlefield could be quickly restored! Our psychological counseling focused on the mental health of every hero and affected civilian! This is the tangible result of professionalization and systematization!"

His gaze swept across the room once more, finally settling on the cameras of the media.

"The Hero Association is not creating cold killing machines, nor is it training mercenaries who are only after profit. We are building a professional, reliable, and responsible crisis response force. We recognize the value of heroes and are willing to pay reasonable rewards for them. We believe that a hero can have lofty ideals and enjoy a decent life; can act based on their inner sense of justice and can also exert maximum effectiveness within the framework of norms."

"This is not a stain on the spirit of heroism. On the contrary, it is the greatest respect and protection for heroes!"

"We firmly believe that a world where heroes can live without worries and where heroism can thrive is a safer and more promising world!"

"thank you all."

Kingpin finished his speech, offering no impassioned appeals or inflammatory slogans, only a calm, logically rigorous, and progressively reasoned argument. He nodded slightly, then, escorted by Wesley and others, turned and left the podium, leaving behind a moment of silence followed by a tidal wave of discussion.

What he said... seems to make some sense?

"I never thought before that heroes also need to eat and see a doctor..."

"Compared to those battle losses, the association's handling is indeed much more professional."

"This is treating heroes like civil servants..."

Online discussions exploded instantly. Supporters believed Kingpin revealed a neglected truth, pointing out the unsustainability of the traditional hero model. Opponents, however, maintained that it tarnished the purity of heroism. Undeniably, this speech brought the topics of "the value of heroes" and "professional security" to the forefront of public attention, sparking widespread reflection and debate across society.

Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. watched the live stream with a grim expression. Kingpin's remarks were extremely deceptive and inflammatory, further solidifying the Association's legitimacy and appeal to the public, especially among potential superhuman individuals.

Inside Stark Tower, Tony Stark turned off the television and scoffed, "Sophistry! Pure commercial packaging!" But deep down, he had to admit that Kingpin had indeed hit a nerve in the existing hero system.

For the heroes within the association, especially for those who truly benefited like Flint Sandman, Kingpin's speech was undoubtedly the strongest endorsement of their choice.

Kingpin's public speech was like a precise implantation of ideas. He was not merely responding to criticism, but actively defining the connotation and extension of "hero" in this new era.

He wants to use systems and benefits to build an unbreakable value system belonging to the Heroes Association. And this discussion about the "value of heroes" has only just begun.

Chapter 45: Fury and Kingpin's First Formal Meeting

The door to the top-floor office of the Fisk Tower was slowly pushed open from the outside by two SHIELD agents dressed in black suits with cold expressions. They didn't enter, but stood solemnly on either side like gatekeepers. Then, Nick Fury's single eye, like a tangible searchlight, swept across everything inside the doorway, finally settling on the massive figure standing with his back to the door, in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window deep inside the office.

Fury, wearing his signature black leather trench coat, walked in alone with steady steps. The heavy oak door closed silently behind him, shutting out the outside world. The office was unusually quiet, with only the low hum of the central air conditioning system and the near-absolute silence left by the carpet absorbing his footsteps.

An invisible, tense tension filled the air. This was not a visit between friends, but the first formal seating arrangement on opposite sides of a chessboard for two leaders of forces who were about to (or had already) come to a standoff.

“Mr. Fisk,” Fury spoke first, his voice deep and devoid of any pleasantries, getting straight to the point, “it seems your ‘Association’ business is expanding much faster than we anticipated.”

Kingpin slowly turned around. Today, he didn't sit behind that desk that symbolized power, but chose to stand on equal footing with Fury in the same space. The oppressive aura emanating from his mountain-like figure collided silently with Fury's unfathomable, deep-sea-like majesty, honed by countless trials and tribulations.

“Director Fury,” Kingpin’s tone was equally flat, revealing neither joy nor anger, “S.H.I.E.L.D.’s attention has always been an important reference for the Association’s development. Please have a seat.”

He didn't walk to the guest sofa, but instead casually leaned against the large floor-to-ceiling window frame, his gaze calmly meeting Fury's sharp, single eye. This posture displayed both the host's composure and suggested that he didn't intend to follow the "official talks" pace that Fury had presupposed.

Fury didn't stand on ceremony and sat down on a single sofa not too far from Kingpin, leaning slightly forward, his single eye locked onto Kingpin like a hawk's.

“Reference?” Fury’s lips curled into a rather unsatisfying smile. “I prefer to call it ‘necessary vigilance,’ Mr. Fisk. It’s hard not to feel…worried about a private organization that possesses unknown high technology, has its own armed forces (even if you call them ‘heroes’), and is rapidly expanding globally.”

His words were like a scalpel, precise and direct.

"Worried?" Kingpin raised an eyebrow slightly, his face still expressionless. "All of the Association's actions are within the legal framework. We deal with extraordinary events that threaten public safety, reducing casualties and property damage. Isn't S.H.I.E.L.D.'s responsibility also to maintain world peace and security? Judging from the results, our goals seem to be aligned. What is there to worry about?"

"Unanimous?" Fury's voice turned colder. "A unified goal doesn't mean we can accept uncontrolled methods and untraceable sources. Your technology, Mr. Fisk, those construction units far exceeding current technological levels, event monitoring systems, even that EMP weapon that instantly paralyzes the Iron Monger... where did they come from? Stark Industries? Hammer Industries? Or some foreign power we don't know about? Or..." He narrowed his single eye slightly, "...something further away?"

This is the most crucial test. S.H.I.E.L.D. has used all its resources but still cannot ascertain the origin of the Association's technology, which in itself is the biggest destabilizing factor.

Kingpin's response was impeccable, even carrying a hint of sarcasm: "Every company has its core secrets and patented technologies, Director Fury. Would S.H.I.E.L.D. disclose all the details of your research on the Tesseract or those alien debris? The source of the Association's technology is a trade secret. You only need to know that these technologies are used to maintain order and protect life, and that they are highly effective. That's enough."

He skillfully deflected the question and turned the tables on Fury.

Fury remained unperturbed and continued to press: "Even if it's a trade secret, when it involves force that could affect the strategic balance, S.H.I.E.L.D. has the right and the responsibility to oversee it. What's more, some of the 'heroes' you've recruited possess abilities that fall into the category of supernatural beings that require monitoring. Organizing them into a militarized training and management system is hard not to think of... a private army."

“A private army?” Kingpin finally chuckled, but there was no warmth in his voice. “Director Fury, if a team focused on disaster relief, combating supernatural crimes, and strictly adhering to laws and regulations can be called an ‘army,’ then what should we call S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agents and Helicarriers all over the world? ‘World police’?”

He leaned forward slightly, still against the window frame, but the invisible pressure suddenly intensified: "The existence of the Association is a beneficial supplement to the existing crisis response system, and can even be described as an innovation. We fill the gaps and inefficiencies in certain areas of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the power of various governments. Cooperation is far more valuable than unnecessary suspicion and restrictions."

“Cooperation?” Fury caught the word, a glint in his single eye. “S.H.I.E.L.D. is willing to cooperate with any lawful force. But the foundation of cooperation is transparency and trust. And Mr. Fisk, you and your association are currently failing to provide either of these.”

“Transparency takes time, and trust takes time, Director Fury.” Kingpin straightened up, his tone becoming firm and clear. “The Association welcomes all forms of healthy competition and reasonable cooperation. But if S.H.I.E.L.D. comes with the intention of censorship, restriction, or even trying to bring the Association under its control… then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

He walked to his desk, picked up a document—a copy of the association’s latest registration and operating license, compliant with all international and local laws and regulations—and handed it to Fury.

"The association will develop in its own way and at its own pace. We will not interfere with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s operations, and we hope that S.H.I.E.L.D. can respect our independence and professionalism."

“After all,” Kingpin added, looking intently at Fury, “sometimes, appropriate competition can actually promote progress and dynamism in the entire industry, can’t it?”

Fury took the document, but didn't even look at it. He just stared intently at Kingpin, as if trying to see through his calm exterior to all the secrets and ambitions hidden beneath.

A brief silence fell over the office. The two men at the pinnacle of power engaged in a final, intense exchange of glances.

Fury knew he wouldn't get any substantial promises or information from this meeting. Kingpin's attitude was tough and clear; he had his cards up his sleeve and wasn't afraid to show them.

Finally, Fury slowly stood up and casually placed the document on the sofa.

“I will take your words back to the World Security Council, Mr. Fisk.” Fury’s voice regained its initial calm. “S.H.I.E.L.D. will continue to monitor the Hero Association’s… ‘progress and vitality’.”

He turned and walked towards the door, the hem of his black trench coat drawing a sharp arc.

"No need to see me off," Kingpin said calmly.

The office door opened again, then closed silently.

Kingpin walked back to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the tiny city below. In his mind, the system's notification sounded as expected:

[Successfully countered formal pressure and probing from the leader of S.H.I.E.L.D., a major domestic government organization. The Association's independence has been initially defended.]

[Triggering task "Establish Boundaries" progress update: 2/3.]

[Note: Pressure from the authorities will persist and may escalate. Please be prepared.]

Kingpin's face remained expressionless.

The first formal meeting has concluded.

No agreement was reached.

No conflict broke out.

But both sides clearly drew an invisible line.

Next comes the real showdown.

Fury sat in the car returning to Trident headquarters, a cold glint in his single eye. He connected to Hill's communicator:

"In response to the Council, the target's attitude remains tough, it possesses unknown technological support, its intentions are clear, and its threat level is confirmed. It is recommended to activate the 'Containment Plan' Beta phase."

Meanwhile, Kingpin has begun reviewing Wesley's detailed plan for establishing chapters in London and Tokyo.

A storm is brewing. And this time, it will no longer be limited to undercurrents and probing.

Chapter 46: Pressure from the Military

The invisible tension brought by the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. himself in the top-floor office of Fisk Tower had not completely dissipated when a more raw and aggressive pressure swept in like a Siberian cold front.

This time, the visitors didn't even need much negotiation or appointment. Three rugged Humvees, painted in military olive green, screeched to a halt in front of the Fisk Building. The doors opened, and eight fully armed special forces soldiers with eyes as sharp as hawks jumped out. They quickly spread out, taking up key positions at the entrance, their movements efficient and exuding a battle-hardened aura.

Then, an elderly man in a crisp army lieutenant general's uniform, with gray hair and a resolute face as hard as a granite sculpture, stepped heavily out of the car. The stars on his epaulets gleamed coldly in the New York sunlight; he was General Thaddeus "Thunder" Ross, known for his toughness and tenacity. His face held no polite expressions, only the authority of someone accustomed to high office and issuing commands, and an undisguised scrutiny and…disdain for the commercial building and its owners.

James Wesley had already received an urgent notification from the front desk and was waiting in the lobby with several security personnel (dressed in smart suits, but with equally wary eyes). He still wore a professional smile, but a deep seriousness lingered in his eyes.

“General Ross,” Wesley stepped forward, his tone neither humble nor arrogant, “Welcome to Fisk Building. May I ask what brings you here so suddenly?”

General Ross didn't even look Wesley in the eye. His gaze swept across the lobby like a searchlight, finally settling on the private elevator leading to the top floor. His voice was loud and commanding, leaving no room for argument: "Take me to see Fisk. Now."

This is not a request, it is a command.

Wesley's smile remained unchanged as he turned slightly to the side. "Please follow me, General. However, your entourage may need to remain in the rest area."

General Ross snorted and waved to the soldiers behind him, signaling them to stay. He then strode after Wesley toward the elevator, acting as if he were the master of the place.

The elevator ascended silently and rapidly. The atmosphere in the cramped space was almost oppressive, almost solidifying. General Ross's aura, a mixture of gunpowder, power, and paranoia, clashed sharply with the modern elevator.

The elevator doors opened, and General Ross, without waiting for Wesley to lead the way, walked straight to the office he had seen countless times in the documents, and pushed open the heavy solid wood door.

Inside the office, Kingpin remained standing before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, as if he had never moved. He seemed unsurprised by General Ross's abrupt intrusion, slowly turning around to calmly face the uninvited guest.

“General Ross,” Kingpin’s voice was deep and devoid of any emotion, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

General Ross strode to the center of the office, facing Kingpin across several meters. One represented the violence and authority of the state apparatus, the other wielded emerging supernatural power and capital; two diametrically opposed forms of power clashed at this moment.

“Fisk, I don’t have time to beat around the bush.” General Ross cut to the chase, his voice booming in the office like his nickname, “Thunder.” “Your ‘Hero Association’ is all show and no substance. But I’m not interested in your masked circus! What I’m interested in is your technology!”

He held up a finger, almost pointing it at Kingpin's nose, his tone aggressive: "That electromagnetic pulse weapon that can instantly paralyze heavy armor! That battlefield cleanup and material recovery technology that's so efficient it's almost unbelievable! And your system that can monitor all the ridiculous things happening in the whole city! This technology belongs to the nation! It belongs to the military of the United States of America!"

His autocratic behavior was on full display at this moment, as if he were reading out an unquestionable requisition order.

"Immediately, unconditionally, hand over all the data, blueprints, and related samples of these technologies to our Army Weapons Development Department!" General Ross's eyes gleamed with a fanaticism mixed with greed and the pretext of "national security." "This is for the strategic security of the nation; you have no right to refuse!"

Faced with General Ross's relentless and demanding gaze, Kingpin's face remained completely unmoved. His massive frame was as stable as a mountain, and he merely raised his eyelids slightly, his sharp eyes calmly returning the general's gaze.

“General,” Kingpin’s voice remained steady, yet carried a chilling quality that instantly drowned out Ross’s roar, “I think you may have misunderstood a few things.”

He slowly took two steps forward, and an invisible sense of oppression spread with his movement.

"First, the Hero Association is a legally registered non-profit organization. Our technology is civilian technology used to maintain urban security and deal with extraordinary threats, not military equipment."

"Second," Kingpin's gaze swept over the general's stars on Ross's shoulder, a hint of barely perceptible mockery in his tone, "even the military, when requisitioning private property and technology, needs to follow legal procedures and present relevant congressional authorization or emergency orders. Did you bring them?"

General Ross's face darkened. Of course, he didn't possess those things. His actions were more a matter of applying pressure based on his position and his consistently assertive nature. "Fisk! Don't try to play legal games with me! This concerns the highest interests of national security!"

"The highest interests?" Kingpin's lips curled into a cold, hard smile. "To forcibly seize the core technology of a legitimate company without due process is itself a violation of the order and rules upon which this country depends for its survival. General, are you using your so-called 'national security' to trample on the legal foundations of this nation?"

His rhetorical question was like a cold dagger, precisely piercing the illegitimacy of General Ross's actions.