Kingpin was dead.
And it wasn't just his body that fell. His entire dark empire collapsed with him.
Bant had hoped Felicia would take Kingpin's place, become the queen of the underworld, and keep those people in check. But that kind of thing was never going to be easy.
It wasn't like his time on Sakaar. Back then, he'd carried the hopes of a whole planet. Every Sakaarian, every gladiator, had been desperate for someone to defeat the Red King and set them free. Not to mention, Bant had transformed into a Sakaarian right in front of everyone. They called him the Son of Sakaar. Becoming Sakaar's king after that was only natural.
Now, with Kingpin dead, the ambitions of the crime lords who once served under him started burning wild. The Hand got word and immediately began swallowing up Kingpin's territory. Others in the League of Evil all wanted a bite too.
After that, Hell's Kitchen grew even more chaotic. That hellish abyss saw fierce gunfights erupt every single day, and the flames of war were already spilling into the surrounding areas.
Matt and Peter's workload multiplied several times over. Even with Peter's stamina, he could barely hold on, to the point he started dozing off in class. But the criminals were worse than sewer roaches. You couldn't catch them all. You just couldn't.
Daredevil, Matt, suggested reporting everything to the Avengers, but for something this small, the Avengers couldn't even be assembled. Tony was completely absorbed in his research. A bunch of gangster scum, more dangerous than aliens? Please. Hawkeye and Natasha were tied up with other missions.
"This doesn't fall under the Thunderbolts' jurisdiction," Norman said, feigning a troubled look when Matt approached him as an Avenger. "You'll need to go to the relevant authorities."
On paper, the Thunderbolts handled supernatural events. Gang shootouts weren't really their concern. That was police work. If that failed, send in the military.
Of course, if they truly wanted to step in, no one would have complained. But Norman knew what Bant was doing, so he had no intention of letting official forces interfere. Matt had no choice but to leave, frustrated.
Steve Rogers, on the other hand, along with Bucky, who was out of the hospital, joined them without a second thought.
On the other side, Felicia was busy recruiting.
Her name had already spread after that night. Plenty who'd witnessed her toss Kingpin aside like trash immediately chose to follow her. Yet many more thought she was just one person. So what if she beat Kingpin? Kingpin's strength had never been his fists. It was his network. He had dirt on plenty of people in the spotlight. To rule the underworld, you needed power, cunning, and ruthlessness. All three, without exception.
To those who refused to fall in line, Felicia showed no mercy.
Even though she'd gathered a crew, she didn't like sending them out. She preferred working alongside Hacker. But she had gotten smart enough to realize Black Cat couldn't do a thing to Hacker, so she decided to only squeeze Bant. Every time she planned to make a move, she'd slip into Bant's room the day before and summon Hacker the same way as before. Eventually, Bant figured it out. This woman was just here for kisses.
Too bad Bant didn't have much time to go after street thugs with her every day, because the Thunderbolts had located Ulysses.
When Bant laid eyes on the guy, he was sprawled on the Thunderbolts' floor, looking up at them with a fawning expression, like a kicked puppy.
"I know what you want," Ulysses said in a rush. In the Thunderbolts' hands, he knew escape was impossible. Right now, he had to show his value. And the only thing about him worth a damn was the vibranium he'd stolen from Wakanda. "You want vibranium!"
Terrified as he was, he still forced himself to appear calm.
"I can give it to you. As much as you want!"
He'd guessed right, of course. Scum like him had no value beyond vibranium.
"From what we know, you don't have any vibranium left," Natasha said.
"I can go steal it!" Ulysses practically shouted. "As much as you want!"
At that, Bant rapped the table in displeasure, drawing Ulysses's gaze instantly. Bant looked young, but sitting where he sat, Ulysses didn't dare underestimate him. Being no better than a dog at the moment, he couldn't afford to look down on anyone.
"Steal?" Bant asked. "What kind of people do you take us for, Mr. Klaw? We're the righteous Thunderbolts. We protect the peace of Earth. How could we get involved in something so underhanded? And besides, even if you went stealing, how much could you actually get?"
Bant didn't care how Ulysses had obtained his vibranium. The problem was, relying on just one man to steal, how much vibranium could he bring back? Even Ultron only got enough vibranium to build a single body.
"Then what are you planning?"
"Deliver him to Wakanda. Then negotiate with Wakanda," Bant said.
In the international community, the country of Wakanda did exist, but the world's impression of it was just a poor, backward African herding nation, scraping by on global handouts year after year. Nobody knew its technology had already surpassed the outside world by who knows how many years, having achieved true self-sufficiency. Honestly, for a country that powerful to still not let go of those meager international subsidies, it felt a lot like using the latest iPhone while collecting welfare.
"Don't! Don't!" Hearing Bant's words, Ulysses felt his world turn pitch black.
He had to know. What he'd done in Wakanda wasn't just stealing a bit of vibranium. After sneaking in, he'd even tried to stage a coup. It failed, but he remained Wakanda's number one most wanted. Once in Wakandan hands, the ending wasn't hard to imagine. He was absolutely dead. It was a warped nation built atop an enormous vibranium deposit, where advanced technology clashed awkwardly with primitive traditions. Their punishments for criminals were brutally harsh.
So Ulysses frantically begged Norman for mercy.
No one paid him any attention. The people in the room had long since noticed that, in name, Norman might be the director of the Thunderbolts, and he certainly had the ability for the job. Yet in reality, most of the time, Norman followed Bant's opinions to the letter, as if he were Bant's puppet.
The real reason, though, wasn't that complicated. Norman listened to Bant not just out of familial affection, but because Norman respected ability. He himself was a genius, and he looked down on mediocre people. He'd even once dismissed Harry. Under these circumstances, Bant's intelligence—or rather, Little Miracle's intelligence—made Norman feel there were few in the world smarter than Bant. If he was that brilliant and close to him, why not listen? Exactly right!
Ulysses wailed as Natasha dragged him off.
After that, Norman asked, "Little Bant, if Wakanda really is like you say, with massive vibranium reserves and extremely advanced technology, yet they remain completely isolationist, even handing over Ulysses might not get you what you want."
The habits of a nation, set over centuries, are hard to change. Ulysses, even as a wanted criminal in Wakanda, wasn't worth that much.
"I'm not trying to drain all of Wakanda's vibranium," Bant said, unconcerned. "The crisis coming from the universe isn't one nation's problem. Right now, all nations share a common destiny. T'Chaka, Wakanda's current Black Panther, is an enlightened king."
Bant's impression of T'Chaka wasn't particularly vivid. He only remembered that T'Chaka died in the events of the Civil War, and that death became the spark that drove T'Challa to take the throne, determined to kill Bucky for revenge. But once T'Challa learned it was all a scheme to tear the Avengers apart, he had immediately set aside his hatred for Bucky. For the greater good, he'd even sheltered a wanted Captain America and the Winter Soldier. Since T'Chaka was Black Panther's father, Bant figured he couldn't be too different.
Sure enough, not long after, he met T'Chaka in person.
The man was Black, his figure already softening a bit, his face not as aged as it would later appear. Behind him followed T'Challa. At this time, T'Challa was still very young, currently studying at a university in Britain. T'Chaka had left Wakanda this time and first stopped in Britain to see his son.
T'Challa actually had a better grasp of international affairs than T'Chaka. Regarding this newly formed Thunderbolts organization, he was curious, but also wondering, how did their technology compare to Wakanda's?
Before truly arriving at the Thunderbolts' mothership, T'Challa had carried an air of arrogance. During his years studying abroad, everything he'd seen and heard was just the backwardness of the world. The so-called capitalist superpowers were nothing much in his eyes, not even a fraction of Wakanda.
At first, he thought the Thunderbolts would be about the same. But the moment he truly saw everything inside, that view changed immediately.
"Who designed this aircraft carrier?" he asked.
"Why?" Natasha and Barton, who were leading him, asked back.
"A lot of the design feels very outdated, but then there's some extremely advanced technology mixed in. It's like…" He searched for an analogy. "Like strapping the most advanced tech onto a stone spear."
Bant: ???
How do you have the nerve to say that?
/-\
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