[David's POV]
The sun rose slowly over the city, shining through the small windows of my apartment.
I got up and did my morning routine. Washed my face, brushed my teeth, stretched, and made my bed.
In the kitchen, I opened the fridge and took out some food. I made scrambled eggs, toasted some bread, and cut up an apple. I also had a small bowl of rice with it. It was a simple breakfast, but it filled me up. After that, I cooked lunch. Grilled chicken with roasted vegetables and a side of rice. I packed it up and put it in my system inventory.
Then I put on a hoodie and jeans, grabbed my keys, and locked the door.
The drive to the warehouse was easy. Not much traffic. The weather was good. I let the engine run quietly while I drove.
When I got there, the steel shutters opened, and I parked inside.
"Gideon," I said.
"Three properties match your requirements. Would you like a visual tour?"
I walked to the desk and nodded. Holograms popped up, showing different brownstones. I saw floor plans, traffic maps, nearby stores, and other details.
I pointed at it. "That one. Start the deal through the shell company."
"Understood," Gideon replied.
With that started, I walked deeper into the warehouse. My tools, crates, and gear were all in place.
"Ownership transfer complete. The warehouse is now under the shell company. All the documents are clean," Gideon replied.
"Good," I said.
I walked around slowly, thinking about what I would change. This place was fine for now. But once I had the brownstone, I would build something better.
"Bring up the new intelligence on the Iron Serpents." I turned to face the center console.
A new set of visuals popped up. Names, connections, photos, and voice logs started appearing.
"Victor Ruiz has been in contact with someone outside the gang. The person has been identified as James Wesley. Based on the data, Victor is preparing to leave the Iron Serpents and join forces under Wilson Fisk's umbrella."
That made sense. Wesley was Fisk's right-hand man. If Victor was talking to him, then the deal was real.
"Victor was told to bring Emilio Delgado with him if he wants in."
"Delgado," I said, nodding. "The one who controls the cash."
"Correct. If Kingpin gets him, he gains access to the gang's money."
I rubbed the back of my neck, already thinking a few moves ahead.
"There's more. Victor has also contacted one of Kingpin's higher-level people. Wesley isn't acting alone."
"So they want Delgado first. Quietly."
It made sense. Victor was a middleman. If he convinced Delgado, Fisk would bring him in. But Delgado was the key. Not Victor.
"We go after Delgado first," I said. "Before he makes a move. Then Victor."
No way I was letting free money slip away. If Fisk thought he could claim it, he was wrong.
I turned back to the screen.
"Gideon," I asked while tightening a bolt. "Anyone lurking around the warehouse?"
"Two homeless people came by during the week. They left quickly. No sign of them trying to get in."
"What about the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that were around when I hit Dante?"
"Scanning footage. Displaying matches now."
Faces and names appeared in the air. Two stood out.
Kara Palamas.
I remembered her. She chased me when I stole the Chitauri tech. I knew her from a show back in my old life. Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Keep tabs on them," I said. "I want to know if they even blink near here."
"Monitoring activated."
I turned to the stairs that led to the basement. Gideon had used black market funds to buy tools and machines. They were already set up below. The place was now a full workshop.
I had something to build. A weapon I had been dreaming about since the moment I assimilated a certain someone.
I walked down. Lights turned on. Machines buzzed. Workbenches were ready.
"Let's begin," I said, pulling on gloves.
I stood over the workbench, goggles on, the sound of tools filling the bunker. The air smelled like metal and solder. My hands moved with purpose. Every wire, screw, and spring had its place. I was building something I had always admired.
A hidden blade.
Not just any kind. I was modeling it after Ezio Auditore's design. Dual blades. Compact. Silent. Deadly.
The blueprint glowed beside me, projected by Gideon. I studied it again before picking up the core piece of metal. For this project, I had chosen titanium alloy. It was light, strong, and easy to get through the right black market channels in 2013. Expensive, but worth every cent.
I started with the base mechanism. The sliding rail had to be smooth and fast. I shaped it carefully, grinding and polishing until the motion was nearly frictionless. Then I added the locking system and the trigger.
As I worked, I lost track of time. The lights flickered a little as I ran the welding tool, attaching the blade housing to the rig. I inserted the spring, adjusted the pressure, and ran a few dry tests.
With a click, the blade shot forward. The results were good. I smiled.
One down. One more to go.
"David," Gideon's voice echoed from the stairs. "It is past your scheduled lunchtime by approximately one hour and thirty-seven minutes."
I blinked and looked up. The sparring bot body she used stepped down into the bunker, arms behind her back like a polite assistant. I took off my goggles and set them on the bench.
I walked to the corner and cleared the small table. I pulled out the lunch I had made earlier that morning. Grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and rice.
I sat down with a sigh, opened the container, and looked up at her.
"You want a bite?" I asked with a smirk.
"I do not require sustenance," she replied. "But thank you."
"Your loss," I said, taking the first bite.
It tasted even better than I remembered. Warm, seasoned just right. Maybe I had gone too long without real food.
As I ate, I looked over at the finished blade resting on the bench. The second one would be faster now that I had perfected the process.
But for now, I ate in peace.
One blade down. A small piece of a much larger plan.
After lunch, I washed my hands at the small sink in the corner, then put the gloves back on. My mind was already focused again. I walked over to the bench and picked up the parts for the second blade.
This time, everything felt smoother. I knew what to expect. The mistakes I made earlier wouldn't be repeated. I cut the second titanium rail, measured it precisely, and shaped it using the grinder. Sparks flew. The air smelled of burnt metal.
The spring-loaded mechanism clicked together faster than before. I adjusted the tension carefully, tested it again and again.
I installed it on the second forearm rig and tested both at the same time.
Click. Click.
Both blades extended smoothly.
I retracted the blades and placed them into their compact casing.
"How's the brownstone paperwork coming?" I asked while adjusting the capacitor.
Gideon replied, "Transfer is underway. It should be finalized by the end of the day. Utilities and service data have been redirected to the shell company."
"Good. I want to move there in a week."
Eventually, I shut the machines down, placing all tools back in their drawers. The two hidden blades sat safely on the tray beside me.
I made my way back to the main level of the warehouse and stepped into the small kitchen area. I poured myself a hot cup of black coffee and leaned against the counter, staring out through the reinforced glass windows.
My mind ran through the next steps. Weapons were only one part of it. I would need escape plans, surveillance backups, alternative safe houses. And more people. Not allies yet, but tools that could become something more.
"David," Gideon said as she entered the room. "Would you like me to schedule a materials resupply?"
"Yeah. Get more titanium and carbon sheets. I might want to work on a grappling system next. I need to study and recreate the grappling gook I have."
"Understood."
---
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[Third Person POV]
Victor Ruiz stood at the window of a Brooklyn apartment. The streets outside were quiet, but his mind was not. Behind him, Emilio Delgado leaned against a counter, sipping whiskey.
"You're quiet," Delgado said.
Victor turned. "Just thinking."
"About that offer?"
Victor said nothing. Delgado was sharp. Loyal. Dangerous. He was close to one of the original bosses. Turning him wouldn't be easy.
"We need to get out before this place falls apart," Victor said.
"You want me to come with you?"
Victor nodded. "You know this gang's future. Too many dead. Too much heat. The top guys are scrambling."
Delgado watched him silently.
"The underworld is shifting. People with power are falling. New players are rising. Fast and brutal."
Victor walked over to the table and poured himself a drink. "I'm not just chasing power. I'm trying to survive. And maybe, build something better. But I can't do it alone."
Delgado didn't speak. His face was hard to read.
Victor continued. "Wesley's boss is building something. He wants strong people. If we move together, we go in with strength."
Delgado narrowed his eyes. "You working for them already?"
"Not yet," Victor said. "But I will. I need someone I can trust. I want that to be you."
Silence again.
"Think about it," Victor added.
Delgado looked at his drink. "Then I guess we both have a decision to make."
Victor nodded and left.
Once the door closed, he let out a slow breath.
The clock was ticking.
And he wasn't sure which side Delgado would choose.
To Be Continued...