It's Hydra.
Lucian walked through the streets with his hands in his pockets and his hood drawn up. But in his mind, gears were turning fast—faster than ever.
The ambush earlier hadn't yielded a single survivor. Not because Lucian killed them all too fast—he had tried to interrogate them. But they were fanatics. Silent to the end. No insignias, no tags, no dog whistles.
But that silence said plenty.
Three factions could've sent those soldiers: Kingpin, S.H.I.E.L.D., or Hydra.
And Lucian knew how to eliminate each one from the equation.
First, Kingpin.
Lucian had only crossed paths with Wilson Fisk directly last night, though the truth was their feud began much earlier—back when Lucian ordered Muzan and the Twelve Kizuki to target "those who deserve to die."
Scum. Criminals. Pedophiles. Human traffickers. The rot of New York.
And Fisk's criminal empire?
It was soaked in their blood.
Forty percent of all organized crime in the U.S. could be traced back to Kingpin. So when those monsters started wiping out his people, it was only a matter of time before Fisk took notice.
But Kingpin didn't know Lucian was the man behind the chaos—not yet. Their direct conflict only began last night, when Lucian rejected Kingpin's offer and nearly clashed with Bullseye.
Would Fisk send a strike team this quickly?
Unlikely.
He was many things, but he wasn't petty. And while he had suicide soldiers to spare, he wouldn't waste them on a "small fry."
No. It wasn't Kingpin.
Second possibility—S.H.I.E.L.D.
Lucian had worked with them thrice before. Despite their disagreements—and their annoyance with his mysterious intel—they had no reason to kill him.
Interrogate him? Sure.
Tail him? Absolutely.
But assassinate?
Not their style.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was cautious. They valued leverage. And besides, Lucian had dangled just enough supernatural knowledge in front of Fury and Coulson to keep them curious.
No. It wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D. either.
That left one name.
Hydra.
Lucian eyes darkened.
He had never met them directly. But their cancerous tendrils ran deep. Too deep.
They had already infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. to a terrifying degree. And last night… last night Lucian had let a few things slip during his "tense little chat" with Fury.
Stuff about demons. About devils. About a truth darker than most dared to imagine.
And if Hydra was listening in—and they always were—then they wouldn't see Lucian as just another informant.
They'd see him as a threat to their plan.
As someone who knew too much.
As someone who needed to be eliminated before he could speak again.
Worse—Lucian had said something to Fury in passing. A joke.
"One phone call from me and S.H.I.E.L.D. goes dark tomorrow."
To anyone else, that was bravado.
To Hydra? That was a declaration of war.
Because they had the same plan. And if Lucian knew it—
They wouldn't wait.
They'd send killers now.
And they had.
Lucian smiled faintly, his lips curling upward as his system pinged to life:
Ding! You've gained 0.001 Wish Points!Ding! You've gained 0.003 Wish Points!Ding! You've gained 100 Wish Points!
"Looks like Tsuna's side is doing fine," he muttered, tapping open his system window as more notifications rolled in.
Across Harlem, chaos was erupting.
And it was beautiful.
"Today's gonna be a good day," Lucian grinned, sliding his phone back into his coat.
Harlem – One Hour Later
The streets were silent.
Smoke coiled in the air, thick with gunpowder and blood.
Bodies littered the pavement—men groaning in pain, broken guns beside them, bulletproof vests shredded. Five… six hundred gang members. All armed. All neutralized.
And standing at the center of it all…
A man.
Tall. Broad. Face marked by jagged scars across his cheek and brow.
His black coat flared like a cape, his sleeves rolled up, twin pistols smoking in his fists. He stood atop the chest of a defeated gang boss, looking down like a wolf on a carcass.
"You maggots," he spat, voice calm but carrying like thunder. "Living under Vongola's rule is the highest honor you'll ever know. And you chose rebellion?"
The crowd around him—shopkeepers, civilians, bystanders hiding behind blinds—stared in shock.
"What the hell happened?!"
"He took down a whole army… alone?!"
"Even Rambo couldn't pull that off…"
"Is that guy human?!"
Of course, the age of heroes had begun. Daredevil was prowling Hell's Kitchen. The whispers of superhumans were rising.
But most civilians still lived in the past—still thought battles like these were action movie fantasies.
Some knew better.
Inside a nearby barbershop, Luke Cage stood near the window, arms crossed.
A living tank. Unbreakable skin. Superhuman strength.
Beside him, an old man sipped his tea and asked quietly, "Luke… could you take him?"
Luke didn't hesitate.
"Yeah. I could."
He said it calmly, without arrogance.
"That fire bullet crap he's using can't pierce my skin. He could unload everything he's got, and I'd still be standing."
The old man raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"
"I'm not saying I could win," Luke clarified. "But I'd survive. And sometimes, that's enough."
Luke had no illusions.
That guy out there—the Vongola enforcer—he wasn't bluffing. He had wiped out half a dozen gangs by himself in broad daylight.
But everyone had limits.
Even monsters.
"Still," the old man said, "don't go picking fights with the syndicates. You've got better things to do than get involved with Harlem's gang wars."
Luke nodded.
"I only step in when they hurt people who can't fight back."
Meanwhile…
Back in Lucian apartment, Otto was typing away at a laptop.
Dozens of wish point transactions were coming in—small spikes, then massive surges. The system interface charted the numbers like stocks, rising with every act of public chaos Tsuna and his agents carried out.
And Harlem wasn't the end.
Otto opened a dossier.
Target List
Brooklyn – Russian BratvaQueens – Latin SyndicateBronx – Triad Fragment Faction
Lucian empire wasn't just growing.
It was spreading like wildfire.
And somewhere in a shadowed room far across the city, Hydra's operatives were watching it all unfold.
One turned to his superior, voice grim.
"Sir, he knows. He's moving faster than we predicted."
The superior narrowed his eyes.
"Accelerate the program."
"Yes, sir."
The screen in front of them displayed a blurry image captured from Lucian last encounter.
A white-haired man in a black coat, holding a glowing blade.
Enemy Classification: Reality-Bending Anomaly.Threat Level: Alpha.