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Ethan shook his head. "No need. He's just a petty criminal. We don't need to bother with formalities."
Sharon frowned. "Do tell me we're not going to fight him," she said.
Ethan shrugged. "It depends on how he reacts. From what I see, I don't need to go through any formalities with such an guy."
Sharon let out a sigh but simply nodded.
Grant and Storm sat quietly. Storm spoke up, his voice calm but firm. "We should be ready to kill if necessary. No mercy. We're entering the den of hyenas—people who would sell a child's organs for money. Do not show mercy here."
Grant nodded solemnly. "Understood."
Storm added, "And from now on, I'll simply call you Ghost." Grant nodded again, accepting the codename.
The Phantom slid to a stop right in front of Fisk Tower.
The moment the guards outside saw the famous Arasaka logo on the car, their posture tightened. One of the higher‑rank guards' eyes widened the instant he saw Ethan step out.
Up on the top‑most private balcony, Kingpin—Wilson Fisk himself—sat in his massive reinforced chair. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the sudden message flashing across his laptop screen.
"Why is Ethan here…?" he muttered.
There had been no warning, no call, no hint of a meeting request. Nothing. And that alone made him uneasy.
Arasaka was a newly risen company, but its rise was terrifyingly fast. Naturally, Kingpin had tried to control it from the shadows—he thought taking down an 18‑year‑old brat like Ethan Cliff would be simple.
But every man involved in those attempts had ended up dead.
All of them, cleanly cut apart.
And Fisk knew exactly who was responsible.
Storm Shadow—Ethan's infamous bodyguard. A modern‑day ninja who followed Ethan everywhere, and who showed no mercy to anyone who dared raise a hand against his master.
After many failed attempts, Kingpin had finally given up on trying to pressure Arasaka. But now, that same young man—Ethan Cliff—had arrived at his doorstep in person, making Fisk's stomach twist with unease.
Fisk quickly spoke into his earpiece.
"Do NOT make things difficult for them. Send them directly to my office."
The order spread through the building in seconds. Guards straightened, security teams froze, and every camera was already tracking Ethan's group as they stepped out of the Phantom and walked toward the entrance.
No one stopped them.
No one even dared speak.
The doors opened automatically as if the whole tower was bowing to them.
Inside, the lobby fell silent. People pretended to work, eyes flicking nervously toward Ethan, Storm, Sharon, and Grant as they passed.
As they reached the reception, Sharon spoke firmly to the receptionist. "Inform your boss—Sir Ethan Cliff from Arasaka wants to meet him."
She ended the sentence with a nod.
The receptionist hesitated, but a guard stepped forward and said, "Please, follow me."
The group followed silently as the guard led them to the elevators. He entered a security code and pressed the top-floor button.
The elevator doors closed, and the cabin began to rise smoothly, the hum of machinery filling the small space. Storm and Grant remained alert, scanning their surroundings. Sharon stayed close to Ethan, ready for any unexpected movement.
Ethan, as usual, appeared relaxed, one hand in his pocket.
The elevator reached the top floor with a soft ding.
When the doors slid open, a pair of armed guards were already waiting. They stepped aside respectfully and guided the group down the hallway.
At the end stood the massive office of Wilson Fisk.
The doors opened, and Kingpin himself rose from his seat. His face revealed nothing—no anger, no fear—just calculation. He was wondering what this newly risen, dangerously brilliant young man wanted from him.
Ethan didn't bother with politeness. He simply walked to the sofa and sat down as if he owned the room. Storm stood behind him like a silent shadow. Grant took position beside him, tense but steady, while Sharon remained near the door with the guards, her stance sharp and ready.
Ethan crossed his legs casually.
"I want information on Ulysses Klaue," he said. "His whereabouts."
Kingpin's expression did not change, but his eyes sharpened.
"I have information on Ulysses Klaue," he admitted. "But it won't come for free."
The tension in the room remained guarded as both looked at each other.
"What's the price?" Ethan asked, unfazed.
Kingpin leaned forward, hands clasped.
"Arasaka's Phantom."
The room went dead silent.
Arasaka's Phantom was not a normal market product—it was the top-class armored, weaponized luxury vehicle. A miracle of engineering. And Ethan had already declared publicly that it would not be sold to anyone with a criminal record.
"You do know," Ethan replied calmly, "Arasaka has a strict policy of not selling to anyone with a criminal background."
Kingpin smirked. "It doesn't need to be official."
"Official or unofficial, I won't sell it," Ethan said flatly.
Kingpin's smile faded. "Then there's nothing to talk about."
Ethan sighed softly and snapped his fingers.
Storm moved instantly.
Before the guards in the room could even raise their guns, Storm's katana was already drawn—its blade resting against two necks at once. Grant's stance shifted, ready to fire. Sharon's hand hovered over her weapon. The entire atmosphere shifted into deadly silence.
Ethan leaned back.
"New deal," he said calmly. "Klaue's information… or your life."
Kingpin's voice stayed low and threatening.
"Brat, you're on my territory. Even if you kill all the guards here, so what? Within seconds an army would be here."
Ethan nodded slightly, tilting his head as if amused.
"Maybe. But will you still be alive after those few seconds?"
Kingpin's eyes narrowed. "I am not like you. I don't need guards to be strong. I can handle things on my own."
Ethan smirked.
"Hmm… I prefer not to dirty my own hands when others can do the work for me. But you're welcome to test that theory."
"You might be surprised how much I am even without my guards"
Their eyes locked.
Silence filled the room.
The tension grew so thick it was almost visible.