Night had fallen over the New York City. Inside a towering skyscraper, Wilson Fisk—Kingpin, the undisputed emperor of New York's underworld—was in an absolutely foul mood.
Lately, a massive underground organization had been expanding rapidly across the country.
They called themselves the Ten Rings, and they had been systematically dismantling Kingpin's empire, uprooting his operations, and installing themselves as the new rulers of the criminal underworld.
"How the hell could there be rings that fire energy blasts? That's just ridiculous."
"That coward must've been making excuses for his own failure."
Kingpin sneered, recalling the panicked report of a subordinate who had barely escaped with his life.
The man had claimed that a legion of superpowered individuals had stormed one of their strongholds. Leading the assault was a mysterious figure with immense strength, wearing ten rings—each capable of unleashing devastating energy blasts.
Kingpin had crushed the man's throat with his bare hands for daring to feed him such absurd lies.
The great Kingpin hated being lied to.
"I'll see for myself just how 'powerful' this Ten Rings really is."
Kingpin flexed his enormous fingers, the cracking of his knuckles echoing through the dimly lit room.
A deafening explosion rocked the building, sending a wave of scorching heat through the air. The agonized screams of his men followed soon after.
From the inferno, a man emerged unscathed.
Kingpin squinted at the figure stepping forward, his silhouette framed by roaring flames.
The man was tall and imposing, dressed in traditional, ancient-style robes. His hands adorned with ten glowing rings, each pulsating with an eerie, otherworldly energy.
At that moment, one of the rings shimmered with a sinister crimson glow.
"You must be Kingpin."
Kingpin's expression darkened.
"And who the hell are you?"
The man chuckled darkly.
"I'm the one who's here to kill you."
With those words, Mandarin lunged forward, his ring-clad fist striking Kingpin's massive frame like a cannonball.
The punch landed squarely on Kingpin's gut, causing his face to go pale. Yet, despite the brutal force, he gritted his teeth and withstood the impact, his body far tougher than any ordinary man's.
"Not bad. You actually managed to withstand one of my blows. For a regular human, you're quite impressive."
Kingpin barely had time to react before Mandarin rained down a barrage of rapid-fire punches, treating him like a mere punching bag.
It was painfully clear who was stronger.
Then Mandarin stopped, shaking his head in disappointment.
"Too bad. You're standing in my master's way. And for that, you have to die."
Suddenly, a bone-chilling blue glow flickered around Mandarin's hands.
The temperature in the room plummeted instantly.
The moisture in the air froze into icy shards, falling like shattered glass onto the ground.
For the first time, Kingpin felt true fear.
In an instant, the humidity in the room coalesced into razor-sharp icicles, which then shot toward him at blinding speed.
Kingpin howled in pain as his massive body was impaled by countless frozen spikes. The cold sapped his strength, making it harder for him to move.
Yet, despite the agony, he roared defiantly, gathering his last ounce of strength to throw a devastating punch at Mandarin's face.
It was a punch that could obliterate a man's skull.
Kingpin's fist stopped mid-air, frozen in place before it could even touch Mandarin.
Mandarin sighed, shaking his head.
In the next instant, he gently traced his fingers across Kingpin's throat.
A thin, crystal-clear line appeared on Kingpin's neck.
For a brief moment, he stood there, eyes wide with disbelief.
His head fell from his shoulders.
Because in that single moment, Kingpin's entire body had been frozen solid—a mere ice sculpture of his former self.
Mandarin turned away without a second glance.
A subordinate approached.
"Sir, what should we do with the rest of Kingpin's men?"
Mandarin's expression was indifferent.
"Kill the ones who resist. The obedient ones? Slave them and bring them into the company."
"Master prefers people who know how to follow orders."
And so, a bloody massacre unfolded within the Kingpin Tower.
That night, New York's criminal underworld trembled.
Headlines exploded across news outlets:
"Massacre in New York! Bloodbath at the Kingpin Tower!"
"Wilson Fisk, CEO of the world's largest security firm, assassinated!"
"The Dark Secrets of New York's Underworld—Who Is the New King?"
Reporters went insane over the news.
Wilson Fisk—the Kingpin of Crime—had been slaughtered like a common thug?
Who in the world could be powerful enough to do this?!
Meanwhile, at Mason Industries—
Gene Mason was casually sipping his morning coffee while browsing the latest news.
"Sir," Red Queen's voice chimed in, "last night, Mandarin and the Ten Rings successfully eradicated Kingpin's forces in New York."
"As of now, the Ten Rings reign supreme over the city's underground."
Gene nodded in satisfaction.
Now that Kingpin had been removed, consolidating power over the entire U.S. underworld would be much easier.
With absolute control over the criminal underworld, Gene could snuff out potential threats before they even emerged.
And if he ever needed to handle dirty work, he could simply let the Ten Rings handle it.
This was exactly why he had created the Ten Rings and his mutant army.
Just then, Skynet appeared before him.
"Sir, General Powell from the U.S. military has requested a call regarding the micro-missile project."
Gene waved dismissively.
"I don't do phone calls."
"Tell him I'll be hosting a special exhibition next week—where we'll unveil our latest technological advancements."
A cold smile curled on his lips.
It was time to show the world what he had been working on in secret.
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