Marvel’s Shadowed Knight

Bruce casually walked up to the private elevator that Kingpin had hidden within his residence.

The mechanism was concealed with remarkable precision—if Bruce hadn't previously scanned the entire building, it might have been nearly impossible to find.

"Nice painting."

Hanging in place to obscure everything behind it was a massive oil painting depicting a battle between a god and a demon. Its sheer size allowed it to perfectly cover what lay behind.

Beside the painting stood a bust of Copernicus.

Bruce placed both hands on the bust, applying force to shift it to the side. Even with his strength, it took considerable effort.

As the painting slowly rose, a futuristic-looking elevator door was revealed.

There were no advanced biometric security measures—just a single switch at the entrance.

However, based on Wayne's assessment, an ordinary person wouldn't have the strength to move the bust so easily.

After all, the person who designed this setup was someone capable of lifting a small car with his bare hands.

The fact that Bruce could move it at all was a testament to his own physical capabilities.

As soon as he stepped inside, the elevator doors closed automatically.

Inside, there was only one button—to go down.

As the elevator descended, Bruce felt a sudden sense of weightlessness. The speed was faster than expected, causing slight ear discomfort.

"No wonder he can go toe-to-toe with Spider-Man."

Kingpin's physical prowess was impressive, making such extreme conditions unsurprising.

When the underground space finally unfolded before him, Bruce couldn't help but admire the scale of it.

Carving out such an expansive base beneath Brooklyn, New York, was no small feat.

However, he wasn't particularly impressed.

From every possible perspective, Bruce wouldn't have chosen a place like this as his base of operations—unless it was a temporary hideout.

For someone like him, a place like Wayne Manor with its natural Batcave was far superior.

Inside the underground lair, Wilson Fisk hadn't stored much technology.

A few old-fashioned button phones, several notebooks, a few folders, and a collection of training equipment.

It was clear that Wilson Fisk didn't trust modern technology.

Bruce remained unfazed by this.

A man like Wilson Fisk wouldn't recklessly install electronic devices in his secret lair—especially ones that could be hacked.

Besides, from what Bruce knew, almost every version of Spider-Man was a tech-savvy genius.

And in this universe, Spider-Man was an outright technological prodigy.

Bruce casually picked up one of the notebooks.

Flipping through the pages, he immediately recognized many familiar names.

Only after seeing these records did Bruce truly understand how this world's Wilson Fisk had managed to reach his current level of power.

One could even argue that he was on the verge of ruling New York City.

One by one, nearly every influential figure in New York was listed in this notebook.

The Mayor of New York City.

The Commissioner of the NYPD.

Members of the New York City Council.

Bruce set aside the notebook—a document that could send shockwaves through the upper echelons of New York.

Then, he opened the one beside it.

This second notebook contained an entirely different set of names.

The crime lords of New York's underground world.

Their weaknesses. Their secret hideouts.

Even the locations of factories they used to generate illicit profits—everything was meticulously documented.

If Wilson Fisk ever decided to flip the table and burn everything down, just these records alone could turn New York City upside down.

And Bruce had every reason to believe that if Kingpin had gathered this much evidence, there had to be more than just what was written in these notebooks.

Setting the notebooks down, Bruce decided not to dig any further—for now.

These documents were valuable, and when the time was right, he would take them.

But not yet.

After all, what was recorded in these pages had little to do with money.

What surprises awaited Bruce in the other folders?

As he flipped through the files, Bruce indeed found something surprising.

Inside were large amounts of bearer bonds, along with detailed records of Kingpin's various accounts.

Everything pointed to one clear fact—

Bruce had found exactly what he needed.

Still, to ensure nothing was overlooked, he decided to open the remaining folders.

Two more contained additional anonymous bonds, but one particular folder caught Bruce off guard.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

That's right. Inside this folder was a list of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents operating in New York.

And the details were disturbingly thorough.

Agent ranks, positions, exact residential addresses—

Even their personal preferences, down to whether they preferred hamburgers or hot dogs, were meticulously noted.

Everything was laid out in full clarity.

By all rights, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent list should have been an extremely classified document.

The fact that Kingpin had acquired such sensitive data suggested something far more sinister.

Bruce couldn't believe that Wilson Fisk alone had the capability to obtain this level of intelligence.

For this information to be in Kingpin's hands meant only one thing—

Someone powerful was feeding him these secrets.

Perhaps Kingpin's rise to power as the undisputed ruler of New York had never been purely his own doing.

With access to such classified material, manipulating high-ranking officials in New York would have been effortless.

It wouldn't have even required much effort.

Bruce's eyes suddenly snapped upward.

If this was true, then he was in serious danger.

Whoever had been supporting Kingpin from the shadows wouldn't just let him run free.

Their ambitions were far greater.

It was highly likely that Kingpin had been under their surveillance all along.

Bruce needed to get out.

What he initially thought was a simple task had turned into something far more complicated.

Gathering the materials he needed, he immediately began searching for an alternate exit.

A man like Kingpin wouldn't have just one way in or out.

Sure enough, Bruce's keen observations picked up on a small anomaly.

Just as he was preparing to leave, he heard movement behind him—

The elevator had activated.

"Right on cue."

Without hesitation, Wayne reached into his suit and pulled out a compact Bat-mask, swiftly concealing his face.

Then, he melted into the shadows.

As the elevator doors slid open, steady beams of red laser scanners swept across the area, systematically scanning for movement.

A well-trained, fully armed tactical squad advanced cautiously into the space.

Dressed in pitch-black gear with no identifying insignias, there was no telling which organization they belonged to.

"Find him."

(End of Chapter)

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