Kingpin examined the medical readouts on the machine beside Rio's bed, his expression remaining neutral as he processed the data. The numbers confirmed what he'd suspected - Rio's condition had improved dramatically, far beyond what should have been medically possible.
"I'll arrange for a doctor to examine you immediately," Kingpin said, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. "If everything checks out, we'll handle your discharge today."
Rio leaned back against his pillows, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, aren't you efficient. Here I thought I'd get to milk the whole 'wounded victim' act for at least another day."
The comment earned him a slight quirk of Kingpin's lips - barely perceptible, but there nonetheless. Wilson Fisk rarely showed amusement, but Rio had a way of drawing it out of him.
Kingpin peeled an apple with methodical precision, each strip of skin falling away in perfect spirals. "Your original school's security measures are... inadequate," he said, handing the fruit to Rio. "I've already processed your transfer paperwork. You'll be attending a new school immediately after
discharge."
Rio bit into the apple, savoring the crisp sweetness. He wasn't about to argue with Kingpin's arrangements - the man had resources and connections that made resistance pointless. Besides, in this universe he'd found himself in, one school was as good as another.
"So where am I being shipped off to?" Rio asked, taking another bite. "Please tell me it's not some uptight prep school where they make you wear blazers and call teachers 'sir.'"
"Empire State University."
Rio paused mid-chew. Empire State University. The name triggered something in his memory, a nagging familiarity that made him frown. Where had he heard that before?
Then it hit him like a brick to the face. ESU - the university that practically half the Spider-Man community had attended at some point. Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy, Harry Osborn... the list went on.
Well, wasn't that just perfect. He was being enrolled in Spider-Man central. Rio almost laughed at the irony of it all. Here he was, trying to lay low and figure out this new world, and Kingpin was dropping him right
into the heart of superhero territory.
"Something amusing?" Kingpin asked, noting Rio's expression.
"Oh, nothing much," Rio replied with a shrug. "Just thinking about how my social life is about to change."
Before Kingpin could respond, a sharp knock interrupted their conversation. Both men turned toward the door, where a striking blonde woman stood in a form-fitting business suit that left little to the imagination. Her skirt was short enough to be unprofessional, her blouse cut low enough to be distracting.
Rio recognized her immediately - Kingpin's secretary. The woman who handled his more delicate communications.
"What is it?" Kingpin's voice carried the threat of violence barely held in check. "I specifically instructed that I was not to be disturbed unless it was a matter of extreme urgency."
The secretary's confidence faltered under his glacial stare. "I-I'm sorry, Sir, but Mr. Obadiah Stane from Stark Industries is in the main office. He's requesting an immediate meeting."
"Stark Industries?" Kingpin's eyebrows rose fractionally - the only sign of surprise he allowed himself to show.
Rio watched the exchange with interest. Obadiah Stane - now that was a name he definitely recognized. The man who would eventually try to kill Tony Stark and steal his company. But if Stane was still making business deals and Tony was presumably still alive and well, that meant the Iron Man timeline hadn't kicked off yet.
Good to know. The earlier he was in the timeline, the more time he had to prepare for the chaos that was inevitably coming.
Kingpin turned back to Rio, his expression softening again - a transformation that would have been jarring to anyone who didn't know the man's capacity for compartmentalization.
"I need to handle this personally," he said, his tone almost apologetic. "I'll send the medical team in for your examination. If everything checks out, we'll process your discharge immediately."
"Don't worry about me," Rio said with a wave of his hand. "I'm not going anywhere. Well, except maybe to practice my rich kid laugh. I hear it's an essential skill for university life."
Kingpin's mouth twitched again - that ghost of a smile that so few people ever witnessed. "Indeed. I'll have the car ready for your departure."
As Kingpin moved toward the door, Rio called out, "Hey, Dad?"
The use of his first name made Kingpin pause. Very few people dared such familiarity.
"Thanks," Rio said simply. "For everything."
Kingpin nodded once, a gesture that conveyed more than words ever could, then stepped into the hallway with his secretary.
The moment they were out of Rio's sight, Kingpin's demeanor shifted back to business mode. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as he addressed the blonde woman.
"Next time you appear in front of Rio, I expect you to dress appropriately," he said, each word precise and cutting. "We run a legitimate business operation, and I will not have you parading around like some street corner advertisement."
The secretary's face flushed red with embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't think-"
"That's correct. You didn't think." Kingpin's tone could have frozen hellfire. "See that it doesn't happen again."
She nodded frantically, tugging at her skirt hem in a futile attempt to make it longer. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir."
"Now, what exactly does Stane want?" Kingpin asked, his voice returning to its normal businesslike cadence.
"He didn't specify the details over the phone," she replied, still visibly shaken. "He's waiting at the office, said it was too sensitive to discuss anywhere else."
Kingpin considered this. Stark Industries was the world's premier military contractor, controlling nearly seventy percent of the global arms trade. For someone of Stane's stature to seek him out personally meant either opportunity or danger - possibly both.
"Very well," he decided. "But first, arrange for Dr. Morrison to conduct Rio's final examination for discharge. Standard procedure - I want him cleared medically before he leaves."
"Of course, sir. Should I have him prioritize the appointment?"
"Yes. The sooner Rio is discharged, the better," Kingpin replied curtly.
"And have the car ready. If Rio receives medical clearance, I want him transported to the estate immediately. Full security detail."
As the secretary hurried away to carry out his orders, Kingpin straightened his tie and prepared to meet with Stane. Whatever the man wanted, it was clearly important enough to warrant a personal visit.
Back in the hospital room, Rio had heard every word of the conversation through the thin walls. Although the room he was in was soundproof it didn't stop his hearing.
Pulling out his phone he began searching for information about various key figures in the Marvel universe. Tony Stark was indeed still alive and well, regularly appearing in tabloid headlines for his playboy antics. No mention of any kidnapping or mysterious disappearance in Afghanistan. Bruce Banner was apparently working as a researcher at Culver University - no Hulk incidents reported. Steve Rogers was still presumably frozen in ice somewhere in the Arctic.
Rio had to admit, landing this early in the timeline was actually pretty fortunate. It gave him time to prepare, to position himself strategically before the superhero community started forming. The more he thought about it, the more possibilities opened up.
His research was interrupted by the arrival of Dr. Morrison, a thin, nervous man with wire-rimmed glasses and the demeanor of someone who'd seen too much working for Wilson Fisk.
"Mr. Rio?" the doctor asked, consulting his tablet. "I'm here to conduct your final examination before discharge."
"Doc," Rio acknowledged with a nod. "Let's get this show on the road."
The examination was routine and straightforward. Dr. Morrison checked his reflexes and conducted the standard discharge assessment, except for directly checking to stomach wound since Rio made excuses to not remove the dressing. It's not like the doctor can force it either, so he concluded the examination at that. The doctor noted Rio's remarkably quick recovery with mild interest, but nothing seemed particularly unusual to warrant further investigation.
"Excellent progress," Dr. Morrison said, making final notes on his tablet. "Your body have healed very well. Much faster than we typically see, but some patients are just naturally resilient."
"Guess I got lucky with good genes," Rio replied casually.
"Indeed. Well, medically speaking, you're completely cleared for discharge," Dr. Morrison concluded. "Still you should be here for today, in case anything happens. I will fill the paperwork for discharge for tomorrow morning."
"Perfect," Rio said. "I've got places to be."
After the doctor left, Rio couldn't help but grin. From a cramped, one-room apartment to a mansion. Talk about a dramatic lifestyle upgrade. He might actually need to practice that rich laugh after all.
But first, he had some business to take care of.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Nighttime
Sixth Street, New York City
The streets of Sixth Street were everything Rio had expected - grimy, poorly lit, and crawling with exactly the kind of people who made honest citizens cross to the other side of the road. Perfect hunting grounds for what he had in mind.
Three young men in black leather jackets covered with amateur tattoos had cornered a woman in the mouth of an alley. Their switchblades glinted under the sickly yellow streetlight as they herded their victim deeper into the shadows.
The woman's terrified pleas for help echoed off the brick walls, but the few passersby on the street either quickened their pace or, in some cases, slowed down to watch the show. Nobody was coming to help her.
Rio had left the hospital. It was good for him that he was being released tomorrow or it will have been nearly impossible for him to come out if he was in sent to home.
Rio approached the alley wearing a dark hoodie and a simple face mask. No point in making this personal when it didn't need to be.
"Excuse me," he said, tapping one of the thugs on the shoulder. "I'm looking for Jack and his crew. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find them, would you?"
The sudden interruption startled all three men. They spun around, knives raised, expecting to face another gang. Instead, they found a teenager who looked like he'd wandered off from some private school.
"What the hell, kid?" the apparent leader snarled, brandishing his blade. "You picked the wrong night to play hero."
One of his companions eyed Rio's expensive clothes with obvious interest. "Boss, look at this pretty boy. Bet he's got some serious cash on him."
"Yeah," the third one chimed in with a yellow-toothed grin. "Maybe we hit the jackpot tonight."
The leader stepped forward, his knife weaving through the air in what he probably thought was an intimidating display. "Here's how this goes, rich boy. You hand over your wallet, your phone, and anything else valuable, and maybe we don't carve you up too bad."
Rio sighed. He'd tried to be polite about this, but apparently these idiots couldn't take a hint.
"I really just wanted directions," he said, flexing his fingers inside his gloves. "But I guess we're doing this the hard way."
The first thug lunged forward with his knife, aiming for Rio's chest. It was a clumsy, telegraphed attack that gave Rio plenty of time to react.
Rio sidestepped the blade and drove his fist into the man's solar plexus with enough force to lift him off his feet. The thug flew backward, crashing into the alley wall with a sickening crunch. He slumped to the ground and didn't get back up.
The remaining two thugs stared in shock at their friend's motionless form. Blood was beginning to pool beneath his head where it had struck the brick.
"Holy shit," one of them whispered. "You killed him."
Rio looked down at his hands in surprise. He'd felt the impact, felt the sickening crunch of ribs breaking under his fist, but he hadn't intended to hit nearly that hard. The enhanced strength that came with his new situation was going to take some getting used to.
"Huh," he said, more to himself than to the remaining thugs. "That was easier than expected."
The realization that he'd just taken a life should have bothered him more. Should have made him feel guilty or sick or horrified. Instead, all he felt was a strange sense of detachment, as if he were watching someone else's actions from a distance.
Maybe it was the shock of his new situation. Maybe it was the knowledge that these men had been about to assault an innocent woman. Or maybe he was just adapting to this new world faster than he'd expected.
The two surviving thugs exchanged a look of pure terror before bolting from the alley, abandoning their victim in their haste to escape. Smart move. Rio let them go - they'd lead him to Jack and the rest of the gang soon enough.
He turned to the woman, who was pressed against the alley wall, staring at him with a mixture of gratitude and fear.
"You're safe now," he told her gently. "But you should probably get out of here before the cops show up."
She nodded frantically and ran from the alley without another word.
Rio looked down at the dead thug one more time. His first kill in this new world, accomplished less than twenty-four hours after his reincarnation. The irony wasn't lost on him.
Time to find Jack.