Fisk was, after all, the "mayoral candidate" meticulously groomed by Miss Makima.
If he were truly bullied into looking like a stray dog by a bunch of ignorant Magia Gang lowlifes, it would be their reputation on the line.
Since it was a trivial matter, they decided to help him out.
Not long after, in the conference room of Fisk Tower.
Fisk sat upright and still, but the person sitting in the head seat opposite him was not Miss Makima.
Sitting there was Su Modie, who had changed into a casual black hoodie, with Reze and Perona flanking her on either side.
The atmosphere of this "joint trial" gave even this future underworld emperor a sense of inexplicable pressure.
Although Fisk had long heard of the mysterious "we" Makima mentioned and knew there seemed to be a massive organization behind her—having even witnessed the terrifying strength of Reze and Quanxi's one-eyed woman—this was his first time formally meeting the core of this organization: Su Modie.
When he saw Su Modie's face clearly, his pupils constricted. The compliments that were on the tip of his tongue were forced back down, replaced by an ill-concealed shock:
"You... no, My Lord, you are... Su?"
Su Modie rested her chin on one hand while the other tapped lightly on the table. Hearing this, she nodded. "Mr. Fisk has a good memory. You still remember a nobody like me?"
Of course Fisk remembered.
Even though he had met countless people, he could not connect the part-time delivery girl from his memory—who ran errands for a few hundred dollars to deliver goods for his Thugs—with the mysterious girl before him who was so close to big shots like Makima and Reze that they walked side-by-side.
Indeed, a few months ago, Su Modie didn't even have the qualifications to work directly for Fisk.
Now, the tables had turned.
The once-lofty Fisk had become Makima's dog, and Makima was Su Modie's most obedient little pet.
From a certain perspective, Su Modie and Fisk should be considered "separated by a generation."
The sheer gap in status made Fisk feel as if the World had gone mad.
Of course, Fisk's imagination was still limited.
He couldn't even fathom that the relationship between Su Modie and Makima's group was more than just being close... "I didn't expect... that you and Miss Makima..."
Fisk wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his tone becoming even more humble. "It seems I failed to recognize greatness in the past."
"Enough, let's skip the pleasantries."
Su Modie waved her hand. Suddenly, as if remembering something, she leaned forward slightly, her black eyes staring straight at Fisk. "Speaking of which, since you recognize me, then you should know... we've met once before, haven't we?"
Su Modie had been quite busy lately and had almost forgotten about this.
At the mention of that meeting, the fat on Fisk's face visibly twitched.
"This..." Fisk instinctively retracted his nearly invisible neck, appearing reluctant to recall that past event. However, he didn't dare hide anything from My Lord Makima's friend. He could only give a bitter smile and, without further ado, reached out to undo the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled the collar open forcefully.
*Hiss—*
Seeing the sight on Fisk's neck, the three women present couldn't help but gasp.
On his thick neck, a series of shocking scars sat coiled like snakes.
Those scars were irregular tears, as if he had been frantically hacked by some sharp weapon. The placement was extremely precise; almost every strike had aimed for the carotid artery and trachea. If they had been just a few millimeters off, Fisk would have likely met God long ago.
Fisk began to recount the night that still gave him nightmares:
"That was a few years ago. One day, a processing plant under my jurisdiction suddenly lost contact. When I sent people to check... I found everyone there was dead."
"Over a dozen armed Thugs were wiped out completely."
"And the only survivor was you, who was responsible for running errands for them at the time."
Hearing this, Reze and Perona glanced at each other, their expressions turning a bit strange.
"At the time, I felt a sense of appreciation for your talent and was very curious about what kind of ruthless character could achieve such a feat. So, I had someone invite you to my private restaurant."
Fisk swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly. "At that time... I truly wanted to recruit you and offered a very high price, but you refused."
"Back then... I didn't have a very good temper. Seeing that you didn't appreciate my offer, I said some harsh words and even threatened that if you didn't agree, I would..."
"And then?" Perona asked curiously. "Did My Lord Modie take action?"
"No..." Fisk shook his head, his expression becoming extremely bizarre. "She... cried."
"Cried?"
"Yes, she cried like a rain-drenched pear blossom, trembling as she wept. She kept shouting things like 'I don't want to go to jail' and 'I just want to go home,' like a terrified little rabbit."
Fisk took a deep breath, a hint of lingering fear surfacing in his eyes:
"As a result, just as I let my guard down... while you were still crying and tears were still falling, you suddenly pulled out a steak knife from nowhere."
"While crying and screaming for me not to catch you, you jumped straight onto the dining table, pounced on me like a maniac, and started hacking wildly at my neck!"
Fisk touched the scars on his neck, still able to feel that icy chill even today.
"I was stunned. If it weren't for my thick skin and my quick reaction to protect my vitals, I would have been finished by your hands that night."
"By the time my bodyguards realized what was happening and rushed in, you had already hacked me into a bloody mess, and then... you turned around and ran."
"From beginning to end, you were crying. The tears never stopped."
"..."
After listening to this description, the conference room fell into a dead silence.
It could only be said that Reze and Perona were not surprised at all.
There had already been signs of this when Su Modie killed Jason... "Uh..." Su Modie scratched her head awkwardly. It felt like she was listening to some dark history; her toes were practically curling with embarrassment.
Wait... she always thought she was a law-abiding, kind-hearted, and beautiful citizen!
How did she sound like a schizophrenic serial killer in Fisk's mouth?
The key was that she had absolutely no memory of it... She felt she needed to find time to see a psychiatrist... Seeing Fisk's resentful little expression, Su Modie quickly changed the subject. "Let's talk about the Magia Gang instead."
"Also, Makima was injured recently and likely won't return to New York for a while. Even if she does, she has her work at S.H.I.E.L.D. to keep her busy."
Su Modie paused. "So, I've found a new representative for you."
"In the future, if there's anything—whether it's business disputes or personnel... attrition—just go to her."
As she spoke, she snapped her fingers. A tall, graceful figure—Su Modie's sixth avatar—entered the room at the signal.
Fisk instinctively looked up, and his eyes immediately froze.
A woman wearing a peculiar black and white outfit appeared before everyone.
This woman was tall and voluptuous, dressed in a pure black, loose-fitting Kimono.
Over it, she wore a pristine white long-sleeved Haori, its wide cuffs swaying gently with her movements.
When she turned to close the door, the diamond-shaped frame on the back of the Haori was revealed, containing the kanji character—Four.
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