[A/N: There was a heavy rain around our area, so I couldn't upload chapters. From now it should be regular since I have already scheduled the release]
Sixth Street Slums
A dozen armed men stood scattered around the warehouse that had once belonged to Jack and his gang. The grimy brick building looked no different from the countless other abandoned structures that dotted the slums, but the tension in the air was palpable.
One of the men, his hand resting on his concealed weapon, swept his gaze across the empty street. Broken streetlights cast uneven shadows, and the stench of garbage hung heavy in the evening air. After confirming that no curious eyes were watching from the windows of nearby tenements, he pulled out his phone.
"Area's clear," he muttered into the device. "Moving in now."
The line crackled with static before a gruff voice responded, "Make it quick. Boss wants this cleaned up before midnight."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Downtown New York
Private Club
The contrast between the slums and downtown couldn't have been starker. Inside the exclusive Meridian Club, soft jazz played in the background while the scent of expensive cigars and aged whiskey filled the air. The establishment catered only to New York's elite – those with both the wealth and connections to gain entry.
Kingpin had just emerged from the club's private spa, his massive frame wrapped in a plush white bathrobe that could have served as a tent for most men. He settled onto the reinforced massage table with surprising grace for someone of his size, closing his eyes as several professional masseuses began their work.
The door opened with barely a whisper, and his lieutenant from the morning stepped inside. The man had learned long ago to move quietly in Kingpin's presence – sudden noises had a way of putting the crime lord in an unforgiving mood.
"Sir," the lieutenant said, his voice carefully neutral. "Our team has located Jack and his gang's hideout."
Kingpin didn't open his eyes, but his voice carried the weight of authority. "I assume they're moving to eliminate the problem as we speak?"
"Yes, sir. There should be confirmation coming back within the hour."
A low hum of approval rumbled from Kingpin's throat. "Good. Inform me the moment you receive word. I want this matter resolved tonight."
"Understood, sir."
The lieutenant bowed slightly and retreated to his position outside the door. The massage continued in peaceful silence, the only sounds being the soft jazz and the distant murmur of conversation from the club's main floor.
Twenty minutes later, the lieutenant's phone buzzed insistently. He glanced at the caller ID.
After a tense conversation, he found himself standing outside Kingpin's door again, this time dreading what he had to report. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
"Sir," he began, his voice slightly strained. "There were... complications."
The massage stopped immediately. Kingpin's eyes opened slowly, and when he raised his head to look at his subordinate, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees.
"Complications?" Kingpin's voice was deceptively calm, but the lieutenant had worked for him long enough to recognize the danger in that tone. "Did our team fail to complete their assignment?"
"No, sir. They never got the opportunity."
Kingpin's frown deepened, creating deep lines across his broad forehead. "Explain. Now."
The lieutenant shifted uncomfortably. "Our team found Jack's hideout exactly where our intelligence indicated. However, when they breached the warehouse..." He paused, swallowing hard. "Jack's four core members were already dead. Swiftly killed, by the looks of it."
"And?"
"There was also a mutant's body at the scene, sir. Based on the clothing, our team believes it was Jack."
Kingpin sat up slowly, his massive frame casting an intimidating shadow across the room. The masseuses had wisely retreated to the far corner, sensing the shift in atmosphere.
"You're telling me," Kingpin said, his voice like grinding stone, "that someone else eliminated Jack and his entire gang before we could?"
"It appears so, sir."
For a moment, the only sound was Kingpin's controlled breathing. When he spoke again, his words were clipped and precise. "I want confirmation that the dead mutant is indeed Jack. And I want to know who was responsible for this... intervention."
"Already in progress, sir. I've ordered the team to—"
"Where is our team now?" Kingpin interrupted.
"They had to evacuate the scene quickly. NYPD arrived shortly after they got there. Probably responding to complaints from the locals."
Kingpin's expression darkened further. "That area should be under Stacy's jurisdiction."
"Yes, sir. That's why I ordered them to pull back. Stacy's not like the other precinct captains we deal with."
"No," Kingpin agreed grimly. "He's not. Have them return immediately. We'll need to approach this differently now that the police are involved."
"Understood, sir."
As the lieutenant left to carry out his orders, Kingpin remained seated on the massage table, his mind already working through the implications. Someone had beaten him to Jack – but who? And more importantly, why?
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sixth Street Slums
Crime Scene
The warehouse district was suddenly alive with activity as several NYPD patrol cars converged on the scene, their red and blue lights painting the grimy buildings in alternating colors. The usual silence of the slums was broken by radio chatter and the sound of officers establishing a perimeter.
Captain George Stacy stepped out of his unmarked sedan, his weathered face grim as he surveyed the scene. At forty-five, he'd seen enough crime scenes to know when something was out of the ordinary, and everything about this situation felt wrong.
Officer Martinez approached him immediately. "Captain, we've got a real mess in there. Five bodies total, all appearing to be killed without much resistance."
"Gang retaliation?" Stacy asked, though his instincts told him it was more complicated than that.
"That's what we thought initially, but..." Martinez hesitated. "One of the victims appears to be a mutant, sir. The scene inside suggests this wasn't your typical gang warfare."
Stacy's jaw tightened. Mutant-related crimes always brought additional complications – federal oversight, media attention, and political pressure from multiple directions. "Show me."
The warehouse interior told a story of swift, brutal efficiency. Four bodies were arranged – lined up and shot at close range. But it was the fifth body that caught Stacy's attention immediately.
The mutant's corpse showed signs of massive trauma in the stomach area and bullet wounds aroud his body. The surrounding area bore evidence of some kind of struggle, with metal debris scattered around.
"This complicate things," Stacy muttered, crouching beside the mutant's body.
"What do you think, Captain?" Martinez asked.
"I think we're looking at mutant-on-mutant violence. The question is whether this was personal or if we're dealing with some kind of territorial dispute."
Officer Rodriguez called out from across the warehouse. "Captain, we've got company outside. Media's starting to arrive."
Stacy cursed under his breath. "How the hell did they find out so fast?"
"Police scanner, probably. You know how they are."
As if summoned by his words, the sound of camera crews and reporters began filtering through the warehouse walls. Stacy straightened his tie and prepared himself for the inevitable circus.
"Listen up," he announced to his team. "The mutant's body stays covered at all times. No photos, no statements about the nature of the injuries. As far as the media is concerned, this is a gang-related incident under investigation."
"Got it, Captain."
Stepping outside, Stacy was immediately assaulted by camera flashes and shouted questions. He forced his expression into a professional mask, even as reporters pushed microphones toward his face.
"Captain Stacy! Can you confirm that this was a gang-related shooting?"
"Captain, is it true there were multiple casualties?"
"Are there any suspects in custody?"
"What can you tell us about the victims?"
Stacy raised his hand for silence. "I can confirm that NYPD is investigating a crime scene in this area. The investigation is ongoing, and we'll release more information as it becomes available through proper channels."
"But Captain—"
"That's all I can say at this time. Thank you."
As he turned to retreat back into the warehouse, he caught the eye of Officer Martinez. "Make sure that mutant's body is transported discreetly. The last thing we need is footage of that getting out."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Meanwhile in the Hospital Room, the instigator of all this chaos was blissfully unaware of the storm he'd created. Rio had returned to his hospital room after his nocturnal activities, slipping back into his hospital gown and settled into his bed.
"Well, that was more exhausting than I expected," he muttered to himself, stretching his tired muscles. The extensive use of his telekinesis had left him drained – it was like his mind itself needed time to recover.
He pulled the hospital blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes. "Note to self: maybe don't go full Magneto next time. Subtlety, Rio. Subtlety."
Within minutes, he was fast asleep, completely oblivious to the police investigation, the media frenzy, and Kingpin's growing suspicion about who might have interfered with his business.
Even if he had known about the chaos his actions had caused, Rio wouldn't have lost any sleep over it. He'd been careful to leave no traces, no evidence that could point back to him. The slums weren't exactly known for their surveillance infrastructure, and he'd made sure to avoid any potential witnesses.
As far as the world was concerned, he was just another patient recovering from a traumatic accident.
The Next Morning Rio woke to the familiar chime of the system notification.
[The viewing time has been restored.]
[You can watch the movies "Resident Evil", "Resident Evil 2 Apocalypse"...]
He stretched lazily, feeling much more like himself after a full night's sleep. "Resident Evil 2, huh? Wonder what kind of goodies you'll give me this time."
Just as he was settling in to start the movie, a knock interrupted his plans. A nurse entered with a bright smile that was probably genuine – the kind of service you got at expensive private hospitals.
"Good morning, Mr. Rio! I hope you slept well."
"Like a baby," Rio replied with a grin. "Though I'm guessing you're not here just to check on my beauty sleep."
The nurse laughed. "You're right about that. I have good news – you've been cleared for discharge! All your test results came back normal, and Dr. Morrison is satisfied with your recovery."
"Already? I was just starting to enjoy the room service."
"Your belongings have already been packed, and we've notified your family. They should be here to pick you up after breakfast."
Rio nodded, already thinking about getting home and diving into Resident Evil 2. "Well, I can't say I'll miss the hospital food."
The nurse wheeled in a breakfast cart with what looked like a decent attempt at a continental breakfast. "I'll leave you to eat and get ready. Take your time – there's no rush."
After she left, Rio picked at the food halfheartedly. His mind was already moving on to more interesting things – specifically, what new abilities he might gain from the next movie.
He changed into his regular clothes and made his way downstairs, where a sleek black limousine waited at the curb. The sight of it never failed to amuse him – most kids his age were lucky to just get a bike but when your adoptive father was one of New York's most powerful crime lords, you traveled in style.
The secretary from earlier – immediately got out to open the door for him. "Master Rio, I hope your stay was comfortable."
"Oh, it was quite good," Rio said with mock seriousness. "Nothing quite like the thrill of hospital jello."
As Rio slid into the spacious interior, he found Kingpin already waiting, looking impeccable in a tailored suit that probably cost more than most people's cars.
"Rio," Kingpin said, his voice warm with genuine affection – a tone reserved exclusively for his adoptive son. "I trust you're feeling better?"
"Much better, thanks. Though I notice we're not heading toward Manhattan."
Kingpin's smile was pleased, almost proud. "I've acquired a property in Queens – closer to your school, more private. Consider it your own space, though I'll visit regularly."
"My own place?" Rio raised an eyebrow. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. You're growing up, Rio. You need room to... develop your interests."
The manor that greeted them was impressive – not as ostentatious as some of Kingpin's properties, but clearly expensive and well-appointed. A distinguished-looking butler met them at the entrance.
"Master Rio," the butler said with a slight bow. "Welcome to your new home. I've taken the liberty of ensuring all amenities are ready for your use."
As they toured the property, Rio had to admit he was impressed. The place had everything – a full kitchen, gaming room, library, and best of all...
"Is there a theater room?" Rio asked.
"Of course, sir. Right this way."
The theater room was perfect – comfortable seating, state-of-the-art sound system, and a screen large enough to make any movie feel cinematic.
Kingpin watched Rio's pleased expression with satisfaction. "I take it this meets with your approval?"
"It'll do," Rio said with feigned nonchalance, though his grin gave away his genuine excitement.
After ensuring Rio was settled, Kingpin prepared to leave. The moment they stepped outside the manor, his entire demeanor shifted. The warmth disappeared, replaced by the cold efficiency of a crime lord with business to handle.
In the limousine, his voice was sharp and businesslike. "have all the people protecting Rio been arranged?."
"All security around Master Rio's new residence is in place, sir," the secretary replied promptly. "Regarding the other matter... Mr. Stane is waiting for your meeting."
"Good. And the investigation into who eliminated Jack?"
"Still ongoing, sir. Captain Stacy's involvement is complicating things, but we should have answers soon."
Kingpin nodded. Someone had interfered with his business, and he intended to find out who. But for now, Rio was safe and settled, and that was what mattered most.
Back at the Manor. Alone in his new theater room, Rio settled into the plush seating with a satisfied sigh. The space was perfect for what he had planned.
"Alright then," he said to the empty room, "let's see what Resident Evil 2 has in store for me."