"Who?"
"Why?" Matt finally failed to hide the shock in his voice. His face tightened with disbelief, and even through his controlled demeanor it was clear the answer had caught him completely off guard.
Vane leaned back slightly, a faint smile forming at the corner of his lips. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, as if the tension in the room didn't exist at all. "I suppose I never properly introduced myself, did I?"
He reached for the glass in front of him but didn't drink, simply letting his fingers rest against the rim. "My name is Theodore Vane. In the near future, I'll be a partner of New York City itself—someone responsible for fighting crime and maintaining public order."
He paused for a moment, letting the words settle between them before continuing calmly. "Under those circumstances, if Daredevil still exists in this city, wouldn't that be the biggest possible mockery of what I'm trying to build?"
His tone remained polite, but there was iron beneath the surface.
"So I'm not asking you to sue Daredevil immediately," he continued. "But if he's still operating once my operation is complete, then he becomes my enemy."
He glanced at Matt with an almost amused expression.
"Of course, he wouldn't be the only one. Every vigilante operating in this city would fall into the same category."
Matt frowned deeply, but his mind remained sharp and focused despite the pressure of the conversation. "You're saying you'll be responsible for fighting criminals and maintaining order in New York?"
His voice carried clear disbelief.
"How can the safety of an entire city be handed over to a private individual?" he continued. "That's completely absurd."
"Absurd?"
Vane chuckled softly and shook his head. His eyes carried a hint of curiosity, as if he were genuinely interested in the answer. "Do you know what true absurdity actually looks like?"
He leaned forward slightly, his tone sharpening.
"The real absurdity is that New York—the most prosperous city in the entire United States—still contains a district where crime runs wild without restraint."
"The absurd part is that almost every police officer knows about it, yet many of them don't even dare drive their patrol cars into the neighborhood."
His smile returned, but it held no warmth.
"And the most ironic part of all is that some people still believe the law alone can punish the crimes committed there."
His gaze drifted briefly toward Matt.
"Even more absurd," he said calmly, "is the idea that a single man like Daredevil believes he can uphold justice in a place like that all by himself."
Neither Foggy nor Matt spoke for several seconds. The weight of Vane's words settled heavily across the table, leaving the room uncomfortably quiet.
Vane continued speaking, his tone becoming almost conversational.
"Do you think evil in this world can ever truly be eliminated?" he asked. "Evil is constantly being born. Even if you arrest a thousand people—or ten thousand—there will always be others ready to follow the same path."
He slowly clasped his hands together on the table.
"The only real solution is to eliminate the breeding ground that allows crime to grow in the first place. When you destroy the environment that nurtures it, you can slow its spread and make the world a cleaner place."
After a short pause, Vane smiled again.
"In your opinion," he asked lightly, "which area of New York serves as the most fertile soil for crime?"
Foggy blinked and hesitated for a moment before answering. "You're not talking about Hell's Kitchen… right here?"
Vane nodded with visible satisfaction.
"Good," he said. "You're quick."
Matt pressed his lips together, his expression tightening as he asked the next question. "What exactly are you planning to do with this place?"
Vane answered without hesitation.
"Clean it up. Reorganize it. Renovate it. Rebuild it."
Matt immediately shook his head. "There are thousands of poor people living here. If this neighborhood disappears, where are they supposed to go? They'll end up as homeless drifters."
Vane tilted his head slightly and smiled again.
"How do you know they have nowhere to go?" he asked calmly. "And how do you know we haven't already prepared solutions for that problem?"
His tone remained steady, but the implication behind the words was clear.
Inside his mind, another thought quietly surfaced.
His private realm was in desperate need of manpower. Although most residents of Hell's Kitchen wouldn't meet the requirements for migration, there would always be a portion of them who did.
Matt paused, clearly preparing to argue further, but before he could speak again Vane suddenly stood up.
"I enjoyed our conversation today," he said politely. "Unfortunately, I still have other matters to deal with, so I'll have to excuse myself."
He reached into his pocket and placed a business card neatly on the table.
"Once New York's security situation improves," he added, "your little law firm may have trouble surviving."
His gaze lingered on Matt for a moment.
"If you're interested," he said meaningfully, "you're welcome to come work for me. I have methods here that allow justice to be upheld openly and legitimately."
After that, he turned and left.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, a large bald man was finally getting the chance to meet the woman he admired.
A seven-meter stretch Lincoln pulled up smoothly outside the restaurant entrance. The massive vehicle stopped quietly as its owner stepped out and walked inside with surprisingly gentle manners.
Inside an elegant French restaurant, Wilson Fisk behaved like a perfect gentleman as he spoke with Vanessa.
His voice was calm and sincere as he shared pieces of his life story with her. He spoke about his ideals, his ambitions, and fragments of his childhood that revealed both vulnerability and determination.
Vanessa listened carefully, clearly captivated.
She was beautiful, intelligent, and sharp-witted, carrying a quiet elegance that drew attention without effort. At the same time, Fisk's presence was equally compelling.
His posture was dignified, his words thoughtful, and his confidence unmistakable.
The conversation gradually deepened, and the atmosphere between them softened.
As Fisk spoke about his past and the dreams he hoped to build in the future, Vanessa felt a mixture of admiration, sympathy, and curiosity rising inside her.
A subtle but undeniable spark of romance began to fill the air.
Unfortunately, the moment didn't last.
A reckless and clueless young man suddenly barged into the scene, destroying the peaceful atmosphere entirely.
The incident was reported almost immediately.
Vane received the news not long afterward. He had already arranged surveillance throughout Hell's Kitchen, and both Fisk and his associates were being closely monitored.
By the time he arrived near the location, Bullseye had already finished setting up a high-precision remote camera.
The entire arrangement had been planned by Vane in advance.
Fisk, clearly irritated by the interruption, escorted Vanessa back to her residence first. After ensuring she was safe, he drove Ironhead to a secluded location.
Not far away, Vane and Bullseye watched quietly as the two vehicles passed by.
Bullseye adjusted the focus of the camera while Vane calmly pulled out his phone and sent a message.
"Tell Daredevil there's a show worth watching," he said. "He'd better hurry."
In the distance, Fisk stepped out of the front car and walked toward the vehicle behind him.
Without warning, he yanked open the back door and dragged Ironhead out before the man could react.
Despite Fisk's massive build, his body was not composed of useless fat. Beneath the suit was dense muscle forged through years of brutal training.
His fists slammed into Ironhead again and again.
Within seconds, the man's face was bloodied and swollen, his senses spinning wildly.
But Fisk wasn't finished.
Still burning with fury, he grabbed the man's head and slammed it repeatedly against the car door like a rag doll.
Then came the sound.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The impacts echoed sharply through the empty street until finally a loud crack rang out.
The nickname "Iron Head" turned out to be misleading. His skull wasn't nearly as durable as the car door.
Fisk eventually calmed himself and left the scene.
By the time Daredevil arrived, the area was completely empty.
Vane watched the recording and clicked his tongue softly.
"What a shame," he muttered. "I gave you a chance, but you didn't take it."
From this point forward, the situation would unfold according to Fisk's original plan.
The man killed tonight had been the second-in-command of the Russian mafia. Fisk intended to frame Daredevil for the murder and provoke a deadly conflict between them.
Once the chaos escalated, he would send bombers to infiltrate the Russian gang's territory.
A few well-placed explosions would eliminate the remaining targets.
Thinking through the next steps, Vane turned to Bullseye.
"Keep a close eye on everything over the next two days," he instructed. "Fisk is definitely preparing a major move."
He pointed toward the camera equipment.
"When the time comes, send the video we just recorded to the Russian mafia. Let them know someone plans to attack them with bombs."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"When the Russians clash with Fisk, you'll lead a group of men disguised as members of the Hand and Fisk's organization. Stir up trouble between the Irish and Algerian gangs too."
He paused briefly before adding, "I want every group in Hell's Kitchen fighting each other."
Bullseye nodded quietly.
"In addition," Vane continued, "you'll take fifty enhanced soldiers and remain on standby. Once the chaos starts, coordinate with the New York Police Department and arrest as many people as possible."
He folded his arms as he spoke.
"I've already spoken with Mayor George. Anyone arrested will be sent directly to Ryker's Island."
His voice carried clear satisfaction.
"I'm curious to see just how many criminals they'll have to lock up."
After thinking for a moment, Vane decided to make additional preparations.
When the situation escalated, he would summon Wolverine, Colossus, and Abomination to assist.
The three of them would form a special operations team responsible for capturing gang leaders—including powerful figures like Fisk, the leaders of the Hand, and the other major crime bosses.
Once everything was arranged, Vane prepared to return to the Typhon Building.
However, just as he was about to leave, an urgent message arrived.
The president had been attacked.
The assassin was a blue-skinned mutant capable of teleportation.
Vane immediately understood what this meant.
This was the beginning of the X-Men 2 storyline.
Colonel Stryker had finally made his move, using Nightcrawler to attack the president in order to justify launching a massive operation against mutants.
But something about the situation left Vane uneasy.
He had already altered many elements of this world. Would the story still unfold the same way it had in the movie?
Without wasting another second, he ordered his staff to prepare a plane.
He needed to reach the White House as soon as possible.
The most important question was whether the president's attitude toward mutants had changed.
Or more specifically—whether the Justice League could still continue to exist.
During the flight, he received a call from Charles Xavier.
The professor had also heard the news and was trying to determine how to respond to the crisis.
He understood the danger immediately.
If they handled the situation poorly, mutants could face total annihilation.
Charles was already traveling to Washington as well.
He intended to meet Vane there so that together they could request an audience with the president.
.....
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