>(2/2)

"There," your pet genius chirps, "no activated small bugs of any kind have been detected." He looks up at you and rubs his eyes. "...Am I seeing things or did you just jump to the ceiling and dig your fingers into my triple reinforced tungsten steel workshop bunker roof?"

Digging your fingers out of the dented steel alloy, you let yourself fall back on to your feet. "...Yeah, you were just seeing things."

A curious hum rumbles in the tiny genius man's throat as he turns back to focus on programming the new app on your immortal phone.

You raise a hand to your chin and shut all your eyes from this world.

Everyone in your inner circle takes priority after your grandparents, with the exception of Marcus. Besides them, you need to take care of the genius old man you have under your control. Getting back in Strange's good graces is also high in priority but not as important as consolidating your hold on Fisk's things, much less preparing to take on two of the most widespread secretive organizations in the entire world. You can work on fixing yourself after all of that if you can't meet with Spider-boy or settle things with the X-men soon enough. A few super henchmen would do you some good but you've already got quite a number of top tier enforcers who can handle things with discretion. Maybe you'll hire one if one of your lieutenants has caught the ire of a local super: they can't take on everything on their own. It might be worth getting in touch with Sublime for some Mutant Growth Hormone if they really need some real power though. Getting any of that shit straight from Mutant Town will piss the U-men off.

Opening your eyes, you look to the nearest mirror-like screen hanging on the super genius's walls.

Are there any other matters I'm ignoring or overlooking outside of these? I seem to have everything covered, but it helps to have a second opinion.

Every matter you have thought of is irrelevant: fix the rift between you and I first.

A groan escapes your lips.

Your soul's a piece of shit.

>[ ] "Is it possible for you to make seven more of those kinds of phones?"
>[ ] "Beck and I are going to have a talk while you do you, Phineas."
>[ ] "...Old man, I need you to sit down for this."
>[ ] Teleport back and flip out your burner to call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Write In.

>First Thread:
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/2424210/#2424210

>Previous Thread(s):
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=A%20New%20Mutant%20Quest

>Character Sheet:
https://pastebin.com/r4mTphVV

>Playlist:
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIla03MZw7Ev6y7u98WYVeV9HuS5-Ez9R

damn, this thread is so dead

>>3856669
>[ ] "Beck and I are going to have a talk while you do you, Phineas."
Didn't notice the new thread was up.

Voting closed; writing now.

File: Spoiler Image (14 KB, 510x287)

14 KB JPG

>[X] "Beck and I are going to have a talk while you do you, Phineas."

Meeting the mysterious man of the hour can't hurt you in anyway if he isn't some kind of secret agent. Phineas isn't exactly sane or perceptive enough to notice an agency operative of any kind in his midst. He probably and most definitely is Mysterio, but you've been wrong before. If he is, you have someone that can tell you a thing or two about Spider-boy or turn into him if you want some friendship points.

"Beck and I are going to have a talk while you do you, Phineas."

The old man, absorbed by his new work, nods in confirmation as you hop your way to and up the staircase.

Opening the workshop entrance door, you walk out into the workshop front and see a pale man with a bowl-head-esque haircut lounging behind the repair shop counter.

Maybe Beck glances at you, blinks, and falls back on his chair to the point it drops to the round with him still on it. "...Oh, shit."

"Yeah, I draw that reaction from people." You step towards the maybe villain. "You the old man's friend?"

Nodding, the man stumbles while picking himself up. "Uh, uh-huh." He dusts himself off. "...And you're the guy who inherited Wilson Fisks fortune: Kojo Reyes?"

An affirming hum rumbles in your throat. "The one and only. You say it with some suspicion though... I wonder why."

"It's just." He chuckles. "...You've got that shady look.

You grin. "Why? Because I'm technically black? A Black Mexican demon-like mutant no less? I understand: I hate niggers, spics, and muties too. You're among friends, Beck."

"That's not at all why I think you're one... suspicious person."

"Dude, just say shady. I'm not the type to be pathetic enough to take offense at everything that slightly suggests some form of blackness; I was just fucking with you." You blink. "Fuck, I'm rich now: it's pretty much impossible to offend me because whatever victimhood I could get before was just completely eradicated with the fact I'm set for several lifetimes."

He sighs. "You lucky sonofabastard."

Leaning against the wall, you chuckle. "There, there. Everyone gets their due eventually."

And you'll make sure they all do.

>[ ] "By chance, would you happen to be a secret agent employed by an ancient secret society devoted to fucking each other in snake costumes, genetically modified scaly human skin, states of brainwashing, and world domination?"
>[ ] "You're Mysterio, aren't you? Bad name if you ask me; you should start calling yourself Doctor Strange."
>[ ] "Mind telling me what you're doing here?"
>[ ] "Wanna know what real magic looks like?"
>[ ] "...So, do you know who I really am?"
>[ ] "How would you like a job?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3859268
>[ ] "You're Mysterio, aren't you? Bad name if you ask me; you should start calling yourself Doctor Strange."
Start jokey maybe get him to talk shop.

>>3859268
>[ ] "You're Mysterio, aren't you? Bad name if you ask me; you should start calling yourself Doctor Strange."
>>3859286
exactly this

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "You're Mysterio, aren't you? Bad name if you ask me; you should start calling yourself Doctor Strange."

What better way to introduce yourself to someone than with humor? You could just show up naked and let them check your fine ass out in all its glory, but humor works better for people in general. If Beck does start going by Doctor Strange, you can bathe in the real magical fuck's saltiness. By chance he ever makes a public debut, he'll have to come up with a cool magical name that doesn't also make him sound like a fag.

"You're Mysterio, aren't you? Bad name if you ask me; you should start calling yourself Doctor Strange."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Rolling your eyes, you take a sniff of the air and groan. "Dude, you smell like a bunch of chemical swirled into one big bleaching scent that may as well be named 'Fuck You Super Scent Senses' for how goddamn mindfucking it is. I'm surprised I didn't know it sooner."

"I-I work in a chemical plant, I get splashed with that stuff all the time. I don't know why you think I'm Mysterio."

"You mean to tell me if I found Spider-boy, brought him here, and asked him to punch your dumbass, you wouldn't flinch because of how hard he hits?"

His face scrunches up. "Are you telling me you took a Spider-man punch?"

"So you do know how hard he hits!" You laugh. "What, did he break your nose the first couple of times or something? He broke my spine via Tarzan web-swing-sling."

Beck blinks before shaking his head. "I don't know how hard: I've just heard rumors that crazy bastard can lift a truck with one hand if he wanted to!"

You shake your head in turn. "He'd fall right through it or, to be more accurate, it'd fall right through him on account of surface area being a bitch." A sigh escapes you lips. "Come on, man, just admit it already. Do you want me to go back down to the workshop and confirm things with Tink?"

"Fine, I'm Mysterio." Rubbing his head, he groans. "Are you happy now?"

You shrug.

This is both annoying and entertaining in a way.

>[ ] "By chance, would you also happen to be a secret agent employed by an ancient secret society devoted to fucking each other in snake costumes, genetically modified scaly human skin, states of brainwashing, and world domination?"
>[ ] "Mind telling me what you're doing here?"
>[ ] "Wanna know what real magic looks like?"
>[ ] "...So, do you know who I really am?"
>[ ] "How would you like a job?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3859477
>What makes a decent guy like you decide to put on a fishbowl and fight a teenager?

>>3859477
>>What makes a decent guy like you decide to put on a fishbowl and fight a teenager?

>[ ] "By chance, would you also happen to be a secret agent employed by an ancient secret society devoted to fucking each other in snake costumes, genetically modified scaly human skin, states of brainwashing, and world domination?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "What makes a decent guy like you decide to put on a fishbowl and fight a teenager?
>[X] "By chance, would you also happen to be a secret agent employed by an ancient secret society devoted to fucking each other in snake costumes, genetically modified scaly human skin, states of brainwashing, and world domination?"

>(1/2)

He doesn't seem as bad or as crusty as the Spider-boy villains you befriended in prison. Sure, drugging the shit out of people is probably worse in terms of long-term effects than just knocking them aside but still. The man's more laid-back and honest in his dishonesty. And Phineas is friends with him so that has to count for something.

"What makes a decent guy like you decide to put on a fishbowl and fight a teenager?

Mysterio sighs. "I'm young and I need the money, okay? I mean, I could sell any of the robots I make to use as distractions, do some prime time engineering work, and maybe even act but that's just a drop in the bucket compared to what I can make as a thief."

"...But you keep getting stopped by Spider-boy." You scoff. "At this point maybe you're better off getting a real job."

"No, hell no! I don't want to be working from nine-to-five like everyone else, I don't really want to be famous, and the robots I make are uniques for a reason. All I need is one big score and I'll be set for life."

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot him a look. "How have you not gotten one already? Phineas told me you do all kinds of work."

"Do you have any idea how much the equipment and chemicals I use cost? Not to mention, all the big paydays I've had so far I've had to split with either the organization that gave me the tip or with other, meaner guys who'd definitely kill me if I made a single mistake."

>(2/2)

A hum rumbles in your throat. "...Sounds like you need more gainful employment."

Beck nods. "Yeah, I really do." His eyes widen as he leans back on the raised again chair. "Are you... scouting me?"

"By chance, would you also happen to be a secret agent employed by an ancient secret society devoted to fucking each other in snake costumes, genetically modified scaly human skin, states of brainwashing, and world domination?" You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at the junior mechanist.

"...Uh, nooo?"

Yet another, doubtful hum emerges from your acculine gullet.

He's probably not not a Hydra agent but he might not not be a SHIED agent stationed to ensure Phineas and Spider-boy don't fall into the wrong hands. Much like how you're not not not a criminal, he's bound to be secretive. The games super secret agents play is one you can easily know know for yourself. Or he's telling the truth because what you said is absolutely fucking insane and that super spy shit is retarded beyond belief so much so those idiot spy book or comicbook writers should just kill themselves, sparing the world of their pretentious false intelligence.

Kingpin really needed to get a life outside of crime, mystical secret societies, and books.

>[ ] "Look, I'm going to hire you and Phineas for the R&D department when I'm the CEO of Reyes Industries or Reyes Mex-Tech. You won't have to do anything stupid, do any of that bureaucratic shit, or write long mechanic reports."
>[ ] "The fuck are you looking at me for a job for?"
>[ ] "Mind telling me what you're doing here?"
>[ ] "Wanna know what real magic looks like?"
>[ ] "Do you know who I am?"
>[ ] "No thank you, then."
>[ ] Write In.

Laate. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

Thought and/or questions, thots?

New Daily Advice: do not run your dog past 8pm

>>3859768
>Eh maybe. You just said that's not the type of work you wanted though. Maybe we could work something out.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Eh, maybe. You just said that's not the type of work you wanted though. Maybe we could work something out."

He could be useful as an assistant of sorts to Phineas, but you might have better uses for him. Never know when you might need a non-insane robot boy who wants to become smarter than humans. Although, you doubt Beck can make or build anything near Mason's level. Maybe he'll be a good henchman: he seems to work best when he's on a team of sorts.

"Eh, maybe. You just said that's not the type of work you wanted though. Maybe we could work something out."

Beck shoots you a look. "That's not the kind of work I'm talking about."

You raise an eyebrow.

Now he's getting a little too dodgy for your comfort. There are some people who've heard of you outside of the Bronx, like all the biggies, but only a few should put two and two together. Of course, people of the Bronx should still be skeptical: it's not like you're the only horned mutant who came from that shithole. Some people are bound to have heard of you from a stint or two in the poorest borough, though.

"What kind of work are you talking about then?"

He jerks his head to the side and sets it back in its normal place.

You tilt your own head in response.

A sigh scoffs out of the man's chemical-smelling mouth. "The under-the-table-not-quite-legal kind."

"...So illegal immigrant work?"

"Ugh!" Beck buries his face in his hand. "...I meant crime."

Untilting your head, you shoot him a look. "What makes you think I'm involved in crime?" You scoff. "It's because I'm black isn't it?"

"Please stop."

"You think all niggers, spics, and muties are nothing but drug dealers, border-hoppers, and supervillains don't you?" Shaking your head, you cluck your tongue.

Truly, the white man must be made to suffer for his nonexistent ignorance of his ignorance.

>[ ] "Look, I'm going to hire you and Phineas for the R&D department when I'm the CEO of Reyes Industries or Reyes Mex-Tech. You won't have to do anything stupid, do any of that bureaucratic shit, or write long mechanic reports."
>[ ] "I'll have you know I'm a proud rapist, a naturally born U.S citizen most definitely on some kind of mutant registration, and a pretty high-level Kingpin, racist."
>[ ] "Yeah, this is getting painful for me too: I hate victims and victimhood."
>[ ] "Mind telling me what you're doing here anyway?"
>[ ] "Wanna know what real magic looks like?"
>[ ] "Do you know who I am?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3860871
>[ ] "Mind telling me what you're doing here anyway?"
We have plenty of money anyway. As a criminal he doesn't offer us anything unique that we need. We never really need to do any bank type jobs since we have plenty of cash.

We can get rid of a lot of heroes by making them unnecessary. Guys like Beck we can just pay for his schematics and he'd probably just retire.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Mind telling me what you're doing here anyway?"

You've got enough enforcers on your plate as is. It'd be hard to find an actual use for him beyond a lab. Maybe he can cook up some chemicals for you from time to time for utilities, grenades, or weapons of mass destruction for when you're running your own nation. No one is going to want to fuck with you if you can have their minds wiped with some nerve gas.

"Mind telling me what you're doing here anyway?"

Beck sighs. "I was taking it easy before you came along. Are you going to hire me or what?" He straightens in his seat. "On second thought, I think I'm good."

"Not so fast, I haven't settled on anything for you yet."

"...Uh, do I have any say in this?"

You shake your head. "Don't complain, you already sold your soul the moment you admitted you were a criminal to me."

The man bangs his head against the workshop counter. "...Goddammit, Phineas, why did you make friends with a devil?" He raises his reddening face. "No offense, please don't bring up race again."

An understanding hum rumbles in your throat. "I was getting tired of that too. Not the first time I've been called a devil either; I've also been called a god before, a newborn one though. Some people would make distinctions between the two based on past religions, but they're ultimately the same thing."

"I get the feeling I'm missing out on some important context here that would make that a sound a lot less weird and fucked up."

"You'd understand it with context, but it'd be way more fucked up and also mindfuck you." You chuckle. "Now, the fuck are you doing here for real? Did Spider-boy wreck your shit again or are the supervillains Phineas supplied gunning for you too?"

Beck shakes his head. "I'm not looking to get all my equipment stomped by the web-head, and the supervillains who use the old man's tech don't know I'm friends with Mason."

"So you're really just hanging around the old man's place like some shut-in deadbeat?"

Tinkerer's apprentice groans.

Grinning, you snicker at the poor bastard's destitution.

Poor poor poor rich-less bastard.

>[ ] "Look, I'm going to hire you and Phineas for the R&D department when I'm the CEO of Reyes Industries or Reyes Mex-Tech. You won't have to do anything stupid, do any of that bureaucratic shit, or write long mechanic reports."
>[ ] "I'll have you know I'm a proud rapist, a naturally born U.S citizen most definitely on some kind of mutant registration, and a pretty high-level Kingpin. Also, I'm a fucking billionaire now."
>[ ] "How would you like millions in turn for every little formula you own and robot schematics?"
>[ ] "Wanna know what real magic looks like?"
>[ ] "Do you know who I am?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3861368
>[ ] "How would you like millions in turn for every little formula you own and robot schematics?"
Seems like an easy deal. After this let's go and make sure the company knows it's ours.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before my morning class if I have time or after it.

thoughts or questions

Daily Advice: do not do pushups in the way your PE teachers instructed you to in grade school. They're fucking retards.

>>3861481
with the toes or the one with the knees?
also i just got banned due to someone posting about a grandma getting hit in the vg section for linking it like ad or someshit

Voting closed; writing now.

>>3861731
The ones with your elbows flared out. They don't actually work all your muscles.

>[X] "How would you like millions in turn for every little formula you own and robot schematics?"

>(1/2)

While you could use a man good at mechanics and chemicals, there are other people out there skilled with those in this mad world. Better to buy all his shit and put him off the streets than have to constantly have him in your employ. Phineas is all the mechanic you need to make several fortunes as well as unrivaled future age weaponry. As for chemists, you can maybe get Spider-boy to work for you, passing along his web formula. It could get him off the streets besides getting in his good graces.

"How would you like millions in turn for every little formula you own and robot schematics?"

The man of higher than average intellect's eyes widen. "...I would like that very much, yes."

A pleased hum rumbles in your throat. "You better have a lot of them then." Chuckling, you shake your head. "I ain't given you millions of dollars for half-assed shit either."

"Promise ya none of what I have is cheap or trash... save for the trashbots I made that one time."

You raise an eyebrow. "Why the hell did you make a goddamn trashbot?" A sigh escapes your lips. "Nevermind, just add your costume to that list of exceptions."

"Hey, it's fashionable!"

"No, no it's not."

>(2/2)

The Beck buries his head in his hand. "Can we just get back to talking about the millions you're going to pay me for my schematics and formulas?"

"Depends a lot on what you have to sell me; I don't run a charity: I donate to charity for tax deductions, which is where I'm getting a lot of that cash I'm going to pay you with."

Phineas' only other friend unhands his face to stare in your direction. "...Wait a minute, are you even running the company yet?"

"Give me a few minutes, half an hour tops."

Mr. Mysterio scoffs. "You can't take over a company in that span of time." He rests his chin on his table hand. "Do you really think whoever's in charge now will just let you?"

Throaty laughter erupts from your chest. "I'm majority shareholder whether anyone on the board of directors or the replacement CEO likes it or not. Whether or not I'm sitting behind the desk, I'm the one who decides where the company goes. Everyone in Fisk Tower and everyone working in a Fisk Industries building works for me."

"You sound like a kid on a power trip."

Narrowing your brow at the fool, you give him a side-glance.

The disrespect the broke and jobless show their rich betters is truly a disgrace upon this great capitalist nation. Such people should know better than to preach when they rely on welfare and socialist handouts. It wouldn't surprise you if this bastard thinks real communism has never been tried yet.

>[ ] "Look, just for that I'm going to hire you and Phineas for the R&D department when I'm the CEO of Reyes Industries or Reyes Mex-Tech. You won't have to do anything stupid, do any of that bureaucratic shit, or write long mechanic reports."
>[ ] "How do you score something so big and immediately slap that opportunity in the face? I think that's the second Blackest thing I've ever seen."
>[ ] "Just show me your schematics and leave out the shitty shit, okay?"
>[ ] "I can't hear you over all the money I have that you don't."
>[ ] "...Wanna know what real magic looks like?"
>[ ] "...Do you know who I am?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3862219
>I'm beginning to see why you had to turn to crime.
Can we use Fisks memories to see if there's any way they could force us out? I'm sure he's done a few hostile business takeovers in his day.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I'm beginning to see why you had to turn to crime."

The man has a shitty attitude for being friends with one of the nicest, albeit unstable, people you know. No one wants to work with someone who regularly acts like an asshole, even when they're competent. You do, now did, run a gang of hardcore hoodrats you personally traumatized into submission, but that led to a sense of companionship among them due to the shared trauma they all experienced. While you did break them down, you could empathize well with the circumstances that brought them into the underworld: shit just happened.

"I'm beginning to see why you had to turn to crime."

Beck shrugs. "Come on, man, don't tell me you wouldn't do whatever you could to avoid a shitty office life or a manual labor job."

Clucking your tongue, you untilt your head. "I get that shit about office life but manual labor isn't exactly a difficulty for me, especially not since the mutation." A warm smile makes its way on to your lips. "Me and a friend used to help some old crazy homeless woman move heavy shit around her warehouse squat. Didn't think much of it back then but it's nice looking back now."

"Not all of us are suited for manual labor."

You scoff. "Oh, come on. You probably already do a lot of lifting for your mechanic work. Don't tell me tightening and unloosing bolts all day isn't a workout for your arms."

Mysterio leans back in his chair and sighs. "...Yeah, it is actually pretty exhausting. Kinda proves my point too: manual labor is shit."

Rolling all three of your kitty demon eyes, you avert your eyes from the failure of a human being. "There's no point arguing with you: you're already lost." You look up to the ceiling, as if looking at the sky. "I pity our future generations."

"Quit being dramatic, not everyone's cut out for manual labor. It's not like you have anything to complain about either, being one of the richest men alive right now."

"Oh, I know." You look back down to the poor fool. "And it's my choice on what and who to spend it on."

Wisely, Beck shuts his two-bit villain bitch mouth up.

A grin spreads across your face.

The one percent slams its boot up the ass of an uppity layabout once again.

>[ ] "Look, I'm going to hire you and Phineas for the R&D department when I'm the CEO of Reyes Industries or Reyes Mex-Tech. You won't have to do anything stupid, do any of that bureaucratic shit, or write long mechanic reports."
>[ ] "Just show me your schematics and leave out the shitty shit, okay?"
>[ ] "...Wanna know what real magic looks like?"
>[ ] "I'm done here. See ya later, Mysterio."
>[ ] "...Do you know who I am?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3862513
It's Phineas done with our phone yet? If he is then let's grab it then see if Beck has a number we can call. If it isn't then let's ask how he met Phineas.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "How did you meet Phineas?"

Knowing how the poor bitch knows Phineas isn't really important, but you are curious. The old man doesn't seem the type to make friends or go out much to make them in the first place. You're surprised he didn't just build himself his own little robotic family: he obviously can judging by that fucking abomination being operated on below you. Then again, a robot family would be off-putting as all fuck.

"How did you meet Phineas?"

"Are you going to buy my things or not?"

You furrow your brow. "I asked you a question."

"Okay, okay!" He sighs. "We kind of just bumped into each other after one of my jobs. I made a gas dispensing robot that was indistinguishable from a human at first glance and that made him seek me out. Both of us sat down, talked, realized we both had an interest in mechanics, and we sort of teamed up from there."

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot the man a look. "So Phineas helps you out with your jobs?" A laugh escapes your lips. "Pretty sure you'd be way more successful if that was true."

"I didn't say that. He helps me out from time to time, but he mostly just gives me material he doesn't use so I can make my own equipment. We've worked a few jobs together and I always let the old man take a higher cut because he does most of the work: you wouldn't believe how much effort he puts into his work."

"Trust me, I can fucking believe it." You chuckle and shake your head. "He built me a phone with a battery that won't die for several thousand years: the software and parts will be outdated before the battery even dips under 99%."

He snaps his fingers into pointing at you. "Exactly, I'm good at what I do, but Mason is a fucking genius. Wouldn't feel right if I gave him a lesser cut of the score. It's not like I'm going to be set for life after one or two jobs either so there's no harm in doing it. He needs it more than I do to make his gadgets anyway."

You lean back on the wall of the workshop front.

Broke ass bitch isn't quite as bad as you thought he was but still is a broke ass bitch.

[ ] "Look, I'm going to hire you and Phineas for the R&D department when I'm the CEO of Reyes Industries or Reyes Mex-Tech. You won't have to do anything stupid, do any of that bureaucratic shit, or write long mechanic reports."
>[ ] "Show me your schematics and leave out the shitty shit."
>[ ] "I'm done here for now. See ya later, Mysterio."
>[ ] "...Wanna know what real magic looks like?"
>[ ] "...Do you know who I am?"
>[ ] Write In.

forgive the wait and fuckup at top choice, i woke up at 1am to a missing cat and a tired mother and i had to hande that until kitty cat came back

>>3863028
>Do you have any of your schematics on you?
Just to get an idea of what specifically he offers and how we can best use it.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Do you have any of your schematics on you?"

You can't just make an important deal like this without having some idea of what you're getting out of it. Sure, he's promising you a lot, but promises are all that they are. A good businessman knows not to make deals unless he knows what's on the table is worth the sacrifice and a smart person knows not to unless the other party has the hookup. It's highly unlikely he has schematics on him, but you never know: he could be keeping them or one in Phineas' workshop bunker.

"Do you have any of your schematics on you?"

Beck lowers his fingers and shakes his head. "No, not here at least. I design them back down there, but I always take them back with me to my place."

"Why store them anywhere else when Phineas obviously has the superior hiding place?"

The man groans. "Because I don't want to take advantage of the old man. The place I has is decently secured enough to keep it safe from any trespassing. Supers would obviously blow the shit out of it but no super knows where I live."

"And that's going to have to change if you want my money." You chuckle. "I'd demolish the building for shits and giggles afterward if it probably wasn't worth something.

"I don't plan on using it anymore so help yourself after you're done moving everything."

You raise a finger. "Everything but the trashbots and your shitty outfits."

"Oh, screw you."

"Seriously, you are terrible at this kind of thing." Shaking your head, you cluck your tongue once again. "It's a disgrace."

Beck sighs and slumps in his seat again.

A grin spreads across your face.

Bitch making someone is one of the most cathartic things to experience in this world. Pussy ass bitches will never know it and always be bitch made by people like you. It'd be sad if it weren't so pathetic. A lot of people are too afraid to take initiative and hurt someone deeply.

>[ ] "Let's go to your shitty hideout then. We'll come back when we're done."
>[ ] "I'm done here for now. See ya later, Mysterio."
>[ ] "...Wanna know what real magic looks like?"
>[ ] "Describe your schematics to me then."
>[ ] "...Do you know who I am?"
>[ ] Write In.

Going to go to class soon. Will close voting and update when I get back.

>>3863293
>[ ] "I'm done here for now. See ya later, Mysterio."
We'll be in touch after we take over the company.

>>3863395
support

Voting closed; writing now.

Today's night class day so expect one or two more updates.

>[X] "I'm done here for now. See ya later, Mysterio."

Money is not an issue for you, but the legal rights to Beck's schematics and formulas have to be signed over to you by contract if you're going to use them in any legal business. You never know when that fucker might try and flip on your ass: Robert Keans, the punkass bitch who invented the window wiper, fucked everyone by getting a patent on their design and sued the shit out of car companies for fortunes. Man's probably got a year at best before that cancer takes him and his family does all the suing from then on, like a bunch of fucking rich good-for-nothings.

You get off the wall and look back towards the old man's secret entrance. "I'm done here for now. See ya later, Mysterio."

The man straightens. "Wait, don't you want to buy my schematics?" He stands up from his seat. "The old man doesn't have them if you're thinking of getting him to tell you."

Looking back, you raise an eyebrow. "I'm going to get them for you; I just have to go take control of my company first. Stay here for now. I'll be back soon enough in a day or a few to write a check and have you sign a contract."

"What?" Beck's face scrunches. "Why the hell do I need to sign a contract?"

"I don't want you to try and fuck me." You return your focus to the entrance and make your way back inside the real workshop of wondrous crazed mechanics.

Humming and sounds of keys being pressed are echoing throughout the underground bunker as you enter. At the end of your usual hop down the flight of stairs, you see old man Phineas typing away at a huge futuristic supercomputer among the ones laying about the huge cavern. The goggles he usually wears are strapped to his face again but with circuit-like lenses.

A hum of your own rumbles in your throat.

It's not done yet but it probably will be in a while.

>[ ] "Hard at work, I see. You won't mind keeping that kind of work up in a proper facility, would you?"
>[ ] "Is it possible for you to make seven more of those genius kinds of phones?"
>[ ] "...Old man, I need you to sit down for this."
>[ ] Teleport back and flip out your burner to call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3863618
>[ ] "Hard at work, I see. You won't mind keeping that kind of work up in a proper facility, would you?"

Going to go to my night class soon. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) if I can before my morning class.

Thoughts or questions.

Daily Advice: learn how to sleep like a normal person lest you forever be pulling all-nighters to get back on schedule.

>>3863694
support

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Hard at work, I see. You won't mind keeping that kind of work up in a proper facility, would you?"

He doesn't have a choice whatsoever in the matter, but it's always good to make people feel like they do. Too many choices ironically makes people not decide on anything, making it incredibly easy to manipulate them. You're finding the idea of influencing those closest to you increasingly distasteful, though. Unfortunately, you can't trust them with the truth and everything you are yet.

"Hard at work, I see. You won't mind keeping that kind of work up in a proper facility, would you?"

The old man freezes before churning his head in your direction, his goggle lenses turning purple. "...No, so long as I have free reign of the facility."

"Don't work well under pressure, huh?"

Phineas does his usual pause and shakes his head. "Tinkering is a hobby more than it is a job to me. Unlike many unfortunate men, I have yet to tire of it, but I can see myself growing resentful if I had someone constantly stomping their boot on my back."

Another of your hums hymns through the air. "I can understand the logic behind that." Killing and cheating would be a chore if you didn't constantly do it for yourself or someone worth doing it for, like you. "You'll have your own facility to develop things I personally want you to, what you want in your free time, and whatever I let the investors tell me to tell you to develop."

Tinkerer's goggles flip colors again. "Will I have to work with assistants or anything of the sort? I can take on apprentices, but I'm used to working alone."

"Only if you want to: I know you can make automatons that can do the work of assistants just fine. Place would be pretty lonely, though." You glare at the partially diassembled automaton humming a fuzzy, robotic tune on an operating table. "...Unless you made more of those."

Mr. Genius Old Man smiles. "I would love to have my own spacious facility filled with my mechanical children."

A robotic squeal for joy erupts behind you as you grimace. "Am I really going to have my own siblings, Master Mason?! Can we have a canine and a feline too?! Oooh, can we have a robotic wolf and a robotic jaguar?!"

"Oh fucking hell, please don't."

Phineas' smile dies. "...Are you sure, Kojo?"

Blinking, a damning pressure crushes your heart in its grip.

You are such a piece of shit.

>[ ] "...Is it possible for you to make seven more of those genius kinds of phones?"
>[ ] "...So long as they don't go Skynet on humankind."
>[ ] "...Old man, I need you to sit down for this."
>[ ] "...Yes. I'm sorry, Phineas."
>[ ] Teleport back and flip out your burner to call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3864573
>[ ] "...So long as they don't go Skynet on humankind."
We just got a family, let's not begrudge him making his own.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "...So long as they don't go Skynet on humankind."

As the inevitable lord of everything, it's your responsibility to prevent humans from being wiped out by shitty soulless robots. Thinking slaves are better than brain dead slaves. Some may think that leads to rebellion but it's stupid slaves think they're the ones who can rule. You'll ensure everything is complacent and content under your firm, stern hand. People who rebel will be made examples of, tortured, beaten, and raped before being rehabilitated like most people in your gang were at your hand.

...

You are so fucked up.

Sighing, you shake your head. "...So long as they don't go Skynet on humankind."

Phineas' oddly perfect teeth shine with glee as he grins. "Thank you, Kojo, thank you!" He turns his head up and cackles. "WITH MY CREATIONS AT MY SIDE, WE WILL FILL THIS WORLD WITH GREAT WORKS BEYOND IMAGINATION!"

"Hooray!" Tiny Tin Tim buzzes. "I'm going to have siblings and pets!"

"YES! YES YOU WILL, TINY TIM!"

You stare at the old man as he and his creation laugh together in triumphant madness.

A part of you is going to regret this later, but the risks are worth the rewards. If Triple-T Net goes online, you'll terminate the Exterminators like that absolute madman of an Austrian governor of California did. Phineas might kill himself in shame or despair if such a thing comes to pass though his creations and legacy will live on. You would probably eat his soul to preserve his genius and gain his knowledge to do everything yourself: it's the most practical thing to do and a total dick move, of which you often are the performer of being a dick yourself.

"I'm gonna... go now."

Tinkerer's supervillain laugh stops as he looks back down from his finger dented bunker ceiling. "Goodbye, Kojo."

You stare at the tiny old man.

He was doing far better when you gave him the Judas Bullets or at least handling himself better. Either he's getting crazier or he's always been this way and is just laughing more because he's comfortable around you. You're not sure if either is good for his health.

>[ ] "I should introduce you to my grandparents sometime; getting out of this place should do you some good."
>[ ] "Wait, is it possible for you to make seven more of those genius kinds of phones?"
>[ ] "...Actually, old man, I need you to sit down for this."
>[ ] Teleport back and flip out your burner to call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3864760
If our phone is all set then let's grab it and head to Fisk industries.

>>3864765
It's not. You won't have to wait long if you choose to. Also, your burner works.

>>3864849
Yes but our burner can't destroy bugs.

>>3864853
you can take the thing from phineas that detects them

>>3864873
I'm fine waiting. I was just hoping that it would be done by the time our conversation with Beck was done.

>>3864883
aight

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Wait until Phineas completes his work.

You could go armed with one of his bug popping inventions, but you'd much rather just use the one he's installing on your super genius phone just to be safe: they could be outdated or not on the same level as the app. The thing he pulled out earlier also looked like a weapon. Freaking out the board of directors and your company guards on the first day just isn't a good idea.

"On second thought, I'll stay until you're done."

Phineas doesn't seem to acknowledge your words before he's back on his supercomputer.

The next thirty or so minutes pass by without much worth noticing with the exception of the occasional maniacal chuckle.

As the pressing of keys finally stops, a sigh escapes the old man's lips.

You hop over to the Tinkerer while he grasps your phone connected to the super computer by a circuitry-etched cord. "Done, huh?"

Mr. Tiny Genius turns to you, goggles flipping through multiple lenses. "...When did you get back here." He tilts his head. "I could've sworn you left some time ago."

"I actually never left... Pretty sure I told you I'd stay."

"Huh..." The old man unplugs the super genius phone and hands it over to you. "Here you go. The app's icon is a crossed out cockroach: it can emit a whitenoise that will block all listening devices if you tap the bullhorn and the scanner detects listening devices as well as their locations through their emitted radio waves."

A hum rumbles in your throat as you open the phone to its home screen, swipe up to the app catalog, and press down on the bug icon. "It doesn't disable them?"

"Unless I reconstruct the smartphone to have an EMP capability, it cannot disable bugs on its own. Detecting and locating them will have to do for now; you can destroy them manually. You'll probably alert the people that are spying on you that you know they're spying if you do that however."

You nod.

What he said is basically counterintelligence 101: letting your enemy know you know they're spying on you leads to giant missed opportunities to mislead them. Of course, they have a chance of figuring that out too. Using the white noise every time might also alarm them as to your knowledge of their presence. You're really going to have to think of many different ways to handle and circumvent secret agents.

A small frown makes its way on to your face.

Dan would've loved and been annoyed by this kind of shit.

>[ ] "I should introduce you to my grandparents sometime; getting out of this place should do you some good."
>[ ] "Is it possible for you to make seven more of those genius kinds of phones?"
>[ ] "...Old man, I need you to sit down for this."
>[ ] Teleport back and flip out your burner to call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Warp to the entrance of Fisk Tower, better to make a loud entrance.
>[ ] Phase into the CEO's office of Fisk Tower, it is yours.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time(UTC-8) before my afternoon class starts.

Thoughts or questions?

Daily Advice: coffee is addicting so don't drink as much

>>3865031
>Head over to Fisk tower
I get the feeling that they're going to try and fuck with us due to us being underage.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Warp to the entrance of Fisk Tower, better to make a loud entrance.

Popping into the CEO's office would freak who's currently in it the fuck out. You don't need to frighten your security with your superhuman demon-ness either. They can all just stand back and watch you strut your stuff inside your building. No one can reasonably object without making a complete ass of themselves. Corporations on the level of Fisk Industries, Microsoft, Apple, and Stark Industries are more or less independent nation states more powerful than a lot of countries: as the majority shareholder, you are effectively royalty and the crown prince that can take the throne when the council of dukes approve of you, which they will.

You walk to a corner of the room, flick a portal into being, and walk out on to the rooftop of a smaller building in front of your tower.

Gasps and other surprised cries ring around you when you land some ways from the entrance of the corporate building.

A grin spreads across your face as you swagger into your new seat of power.

"Hello there! Welcome t-" The female front office executive pauses, her eyes widening. "...Oh my god, you're him."

Waving, you approach her. "Yeah, I'm Him alright. Have the board of directors held a meeting recently? I know they had to after Fisk was murdered, but I'm sure there have been a lot of other problems arising because of that since then."

"Th-they've met only a few times."

You raise an eyebrow. "No new CEO?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Good." You chuckle. "...Perfect."

The woman cowers behind her desk.

All you need to do is call another meeting using Chairmen Director Gresham Arkwright, the head of operations. He, like a lot of other members on the board, is corrupt and a plant he put in his company to ensure everything is going smoothly without everyone figuring out the money laundering or the shady deals FIsk Industries gets up to. You can trust him so long as you're competent and have a reasonable amount of blackmail to beat him down with.

>[ ] Teleport back to your place and flip out your genius phone to call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Call Arkwright, this tower will be yours and the company will be renamed in your honor.
>[ ] Take the elevator to the operations floor, better you meet Arkwright in person.
>[ ] Phase into the CEO's office of Fisk Tower, it is yours.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3865748
>[ ] Take the elevator to the operations floor, better you meet Arkwright in person.
We should already know whatever blackmail we need from Fisk.

Voting closed; writing now

>[X] Take the elevator to the operations floor, better you meet Arkwright in person.

What better way to introduce yourself to a new/old ally than with a friendly handshake? He's going to freak the fuck out, like anyone would, but he'll have to show you more respect than what little he could muster for a phone call. You don't want to bring up all the shady shit he's involved with over the phone either. The two of you need a real private talk where you can air it all out with each other: man needs to know what you're all about and just how far up the totem pole you are, if he hasn't come to the conclusion already.

Humming a tune, you turn to the direction of the elevator and walk off.

Passing employees and the exiting elevator riders stop to gawk, salute, and run away from you while you wait for the iron carriage to open up.

You enter the newly emptied elevator and click down on the operations floor number.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBlFHuCzPgY

A groan escapes your lips as an ever familiar tune blares through the square block of steel's speaker.

If he still lives, you are going to find the piece of shit who made this tune and kill him slowly. No one should have to suffer this torturous caged hell. You'd break out of here if you wouldn't end up down an elevator. The only thing you can do is make sure to have this shitty tune erased from the system these elevators operate on and put in something less grating.

The music stops as the elevator opens up to Arkwright's domain.

You, stomping out of the tin prison, sigh in relief and shake your head before continuing on your way.

It doesn't take you long to reach the big man of the floor's office from the cubicles of starey, shocked motherfuckers.

The stone-faced man looks up from his papers as you enter and blinks. "...Huh, I was expecting you to come eventually, but I thought you'd be a little more...presentable."

Not shifting, you stare at the corrupt businessman.

Definitely not the response you were looking for, but it could've been a lot worse.

>[ ] "I could bullshit you, but I'm just going to cut right to the chase; I know everything, and I mean everything."
>[ ] "Chairman, I need you to call a meeting of the Board of Directors."
>[ ] "Business casual is best for business."
>[ ] "Then you know what I'm here for."
>[ ] Take out your phone and scan for bugs, you didn't get it installed for nothing.
>[ ] Shake his hand, it's the manliest thing to do.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update when wake up tomorrow morning my time(UTC-8)

Thots or questions, my friends?

Daily advice: your phone is a distraction, turn it off so you can enjoy the important moments in life and also sleep and sanity

>>3866257
>>[ ] Take out your phone and scan for bugs, you didn't get it installed for nothing.

>>3866257
>[ ] Take out your phone and scan for bugs, you didn't get it installed for nothing.
>[ ] Shake his hand, it's the manliest thing to do.
Then once we're clear of bugs put on the white noise for any cameras with audio capability and say
>[ ] "I could bullshit you, but I'm just going to cut right to the chase; I know everything, and I mean everything."
As we shake his hand.

Stuff has come up. Will close voting and update some time tomorrow when it blows over. Have a good day, my anons.

>>3866918
No rush boss. Hopefully shit calms down for ya.

>>3866531
SUPPORT
>>3866918
no problem

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Take out your phone and scan for bugs, you didn't get it installed for nothing.
>[X] Shake his hand, it's the manliest thing to do.
>[X] "I could bullshit you, but I'm just going to cut right to the chase; I know everything, and I mean everything."

Best for you to be cautious as well as direct. Arkwright's not the type to flip, but everyone is when it's their ass on the line. You doubt SHIELD could've gotten to him before Hydra though. Either way, they're both going to be an absolute bitch to deal with. Disposing of him right after meeting him would be suspicious as all fuck if he was flipped.

You dig a hand into your pocket and pull out your genius phone.

Gresham raises an eyebrow at the advanced cellular device. "...What is that and where did you get it?"

Holding up a finger, you pull up the app catalog and press down on the crossed out cockroach before tapping the scanner icon.

Mr. Business Man watches with interest as you yourself watch the thing scan for listening devices.

A couple of seconds pass until the device finally registers zero bugs in your current vicinity.

Pressing down on the white noise button to be sure, you hold out your free hand to Arkwright.

The Chairman looks at the hand with some suspicion before taking it in his own and flinching at your manlier mutant strength.

You chuckle at the man's discomfort. "I could bullshit you, but I'm just going to cut right to the chase; I know everything, and I mean everything."

"...Really?" Arkwright grimaces as you release his hand. "I'm sure you know some, but I doubt you know everything."

Furrowing your brow, you glare at him. "Everything, old man. I know absolutely everything." You grin. "I know you, I know what you've done, and I know what you do."

Gresham hums. "Is that so? I wonder how."

"That's not important. You know why I'm here, don't you?" You relax.

"Yes, to take over the company."

A hum of confirmation rumbles in your own throat.

It is your right to take what you're due from the fallen. They have no need of the power they left in this world. What little use it'll be in Oblivion or the next isn't worth the struggle. As _________________, You will devour and consume what You are owed no matter what it may be.

>[ ] "I see you looking at my phone. Want one? They're going to be all the rage in a couple of years: their downgraded limited battery life versions, at least."
>[ ] "Feel free to voice all your doubts or complaints. I assure you, I'll listen to them more than that fat fuck ever did."
>[ ] "I'm glad we understand each other. Hold a meeting of the board of directors."
>[ ] "Do I even need to tell you what I want you to do?"
>[ ] "Care to tell me what you think you know about me?"
>[ ] Leave, he knows what to do.
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) if I wake up in time. I'l update in the afternoon if not.

Thots or questions?

Daily Advice: family is a sinkhole and will drag you into the abyss.

>>3868795
>[ ] "Feel free to voice all your doubts or complaints. I assure you, I'll listen to them more than that fat fuck ever did."
Assuage any concerns he has. Once he's on the same page as us say
>[ ] "I'm glad we understand each other. Hold a meeting of the board of directors."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Feel free to voice all your doubts or complaints. I assure you, I'll listen to them more than that fat fuck ever did."
>[X] "I'm glad we understand each other. Hold a meeting of the board of directors."

>(1/2)

Fisk was never the supportive or leadership-oriented boss of his motley crew of corrupt businessman, coon nigga enforcers, and world class assassins. He was more a manager than an actual leader for his men to look-up to and die for outside of fear. The foot-soldiers in your gang fear you too, but there's also respect and brotherhood. You've more than on one occasion come down to party with them and celebrate their major successes, which is far more than Fisk ever did for any of his men.

"Feel free to voice all your doubts or complaints. I assure you, I'll listen to them more than that fat fuck ever did."

Arkwright folds his hands together. "If that's really the case, what exactly do you intend to do with all the carrion eaters that made themselves known after Mr. Fisk's death?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Carrion eaters?"

"The...interested parties that invested their fair share into the unsavory parts of our city."

"Oh, those people." You grin and let out a deep chuckle. "Afraid I don't know what you mean: they're actually all friends of mine. One might even say they're my followers."

Gresham's eyes widen. "...Huh, I can't say I didn't think of it before but to misdirect to such a degree?" He shakes his head. "You're quite the mastermind, Mr. Reyes."

"Please, Mr. Reyes was my father; call me Kojo."

>(2/2)

"Alright, Kojo. Do forgive me if I have my doubts that you can really lead this company: you come from a poverty-stricken background and, while seemingly proficient in managing several large groups of people, I can't help but feel like you have no idea what you're getting into."

"I know everything Fisk did about selling people what they think they want and buying what I need." You chuckle again. "Hell, I know more: New York's most famous old man didn't take much convincing to kneel and back me. He even kissed the back of my hand to pronounce his loyalty and ordered everyone else present to as well.

Mr. Arkwright's eyes widen again. "...Wow, I was wondering what was keeping him busy after his blockhead of a subservient was hospitalized. He could've taken over his side of Queens but instead he chose to remain in Brooklyn, leaving it to the new 'Yakuza' gang." The older man leans back in his chair and hums. "I still have... some doubts, but I can see you adapting to the role you desire quickly. Please, just don't do anything foolish or bet the company on a gamble."

A hum rumbles in your throat. "I'm glad we understand each other. Hold a meeting of the board of directors."

"I will. Take care, Kojo."

You lock eyes with the older man for a moment.

While telling him somewhat jeopardized your crafted facade of separation, you can tell it was necessary. Just telling him to trust you wouldn't have worked out: Arkwright's not that kind of man. He's in too deep now to flip, but you never know when someone might strike a deal. The thing you just told him is something anyone on the outside would die to know.

>[ ] "I saw you looking at my phone. Want one? They're going to be all the rage in a couple of years: their downgraded limited battery life versions, at least."
>[ ] "There's going to be some changes around here. We need to diversify our investments even more. I want us to be the leader in every field of the world."
>[ ] Gresham, look deep into my eyes. I want to try and show you who I am, who I really am on the inside."
>[ ] "You do know what I'll do to you if you ever tell anyone what I just told you, right?"
>[ ] Weave a sigil on to Gresham that will burst his heart if he ever divulges information relating to your organization, you can easily do it. (Will Roll +8 Modifier, DC16)
>[ ] Leave, he knows what to do.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3870312
>[ ] "There's going to be some changes around here. We need to diversify our investments even more. I want us to be the leader in every field of the world."
We've anyway got a handful of leads.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "There's going to be some changes around here. We need to diversify our investments even more. I want us to be the leader in every field of the world."

>(1/2)

Your company is too focused on manufacturing and not enough on quaternary(Research and Development) industries. With Breathwear, Phineas, and the Bratva under your range of influence, you can start making future age weaponry and gear. The firearms you got from the Russian Mafia can be disassembled, modified, and redesigned t fit your needs. Some gun manufacturing agencies may cry plagiarism but you can have the weapons modified to the point of being completely different and superior than their original model.

"There's going to be some changes around here. We need to diversify our investments even more. I want us to be the leader in every field of the world."

Gresham blinks. "That's going to take significantly more effort than just saying it. We'll need teams, geniuses of all fields of study, specialists, facilities, and billions to finance them all. Even then, it takes years if not decades to receive any real results."

Nodding, you hum again. "I know, I know." A grin spreads across your face. "I already know a genius who can work alone and excels in engineering, computing, aerodynamics, mathematics, and physics. He didn't even have anywhere near the funding we can provide to make me the most advanced smartphone with the only multi-millennium lasting battery in the world."

"Is that what that thing is?"

"Yup." You wiggle your genius phone. "It's currently emitting white noise so no recording devices can hear us speak."

The man's eyes widen for the umpteenth time. "...Where the hell did you find him?"

"In an underground workshop filled with gadgets just like this one. Besides cellular devices, I'm pretty sure he can make plasma weaponry and light bullet-proof clothing."

>(2/2)

"That's... amazing, but you want to branch out into the arms business?"

You nod. "We can make a literal killing off of it. There's a reason the military industrial complex exists. Of course, we're not going to sell all of our arms to the American Military. I have bigger, grander plans for what we're going to do with that kind of hardware."

"I sincerely hope that doesn't mean what I think it does."

"Oh, please." Chuckling, you shake your head. "Nothing you can think of is anything on the level of what I'm planning."

The man sighs. "Just please don't do anything foolish."

"I won't. I'm going see that the inevitable comes to pass...eventually."

Every cyberpunk film and book has multinational corporations effectively being their own sovereign governments for a reason. It's more or less the future if corporations are going to be treated like people in a world where mutants, future tech, aliens, and magic exist. You're going to make your company either be the first sovereign corp that can go head to head with any sovereign nation or you're going to be the first corp owner to head a state either as an elected official or established war lord. Knowing yourself, it's going to be the latter with you probably taking over Latveria, Genosha, or both over the former. The US government is already a mess as is.

>[ ] "Want a phone like mine? They're going to be all the rage in a couple of years: their downgraded limited battery life versions, at least."
>[ ] Gresham, look deep into my eyes. I want to try and show you who I am, who I really am on the inside."
>[ ] "You do know what I'll do to you if you ever tell anyone what I just told you, right?"
>[ ] Weave a sigil on to Gresham that will burst his heart if he ever divulges information relating to your organization, you can easily do it. (Will Roll +8 Modifier, DC16)
>[ ] Leave, he knows what to do.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3870727
>[ ] Leave, he knows what to do.
He seems like a loyal enough toady. As long as the cash flows he'll stay with us. I could see putting the sigil on some more opportunistic people in the future though.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Leave, he knows what to do.

No need to hang here longer than you have to. You'll call Gresham in a while and ask for the date of the meeting so you can properly present yourself. Rumors are going to spread among the Towers' workers, but they won't ruin the surprise. In the meantime, you can call up your homies and let them know how you are, get to know how they are, and tell them what the fuck is going down.

Waving goodbye, you stuff your super genius phone back in your pocket before turning around and walking out of the Chairman's office.

You make your way from the operations director's office entrance to the elevator and walk inside.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBlFHuCzPgY

Groans escape your lips.

Even in death, this infernal tune will follow you to the next life or be the thing that plays eternally in your head for oblivion.

A snarl escapes your lips as you wave a portal open beneath your feet.

You land back in your comfy townhouse and drop down on to the carpet floor.

Cringing at the feeling of soft fibers beneath you, another groan escapes your lips.

Out from a steel steam cage playing shitty tune music to a goddamn fucking carpet, it's like you're a lesbian stripper.

You kip-up to your feet and take a deep breath.

Everything is fine, you just need to overcome your unrelenting rage for soft things and shitty music sometime after you get to that very important thing you should've done a month ago.

>[ ] Take out your genius phone and call everyone, it's about time.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait longer.
>[ ] Shift over to Tinkerer's, checking up is important.
>[ ] Lounge around for a couple of days, why not?
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) if I can wake up in time before my morning class.

Thoughts or questions?

Daily Advice: eat a balanced dinner, breakfast, and lunch so you don't eat junk food to compensate like a fatty little bitch.

>>3871138
>[ ] Take out your genius phone and call everyone, it's about time.
It's finally time. We've got all the other pieces in place.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Take out your genius phone and call everyone, it's about time.

>(1/2)

It's time. You've waited long enough to get into contact with the others. Marcus is probably pissed beyond belief about that and waiting for you to show up so he can bust a cap in each of your horns. Ren and Itsuki will always wait patiently and obediently for you. Jesús and Alex shouldn't really give much of a fuck other than for a fuck, in Alex's case. Cuda, on the other hand, is definitely dying to bust a cap up someone's ass. Need less to say, you've put this on hold long enough.

You take your super genius phone out of your pocket and dial the hot head of your inner circle first.

The line dials twice before breaking.

"Ayy, yo what up?" Cuda's deep voice asks.

A grin spreads across your face. "It's me. We'll talk again in person after I'm done taking control of my company, which is currently underway. Keep running things as quietly as you can until then. Good job handling that business with Ho by the way."

"Aw shit! No problem, mah nigga! How you been, dog?!"

You chuckle. "Good, Cuda, good. I'd love to continue talking, but I've got other calls to make; peace, nigga." Clicking the red phone icon, you dial in Itsuki's number.

Four dials drone in your ear until a familiar click signals their end.

"すみません, もしもし?" (Romanji: "Sumimasen, moshimoshi?" Translation: "Excuse me, hello?")

"Itsuki, my man, it's been a while. How have things been going on your end?"

"Excuse me for a moment," the man says some ways from his phone before vague footsteps tap for a few seconds and stop. "Things are going smoothly, Reyes-sama: all of Queens is under my control, my kobun have kept silent to one another and Yamazaki-sama's kobun about our true allegiances, killings have been kept to a minimum as well as silent, and I have many new kobun to add to your cause."

A pleased hum rumbles in your throat. "Your new boys been getting into fights with Ren's?"

"Occasionally, but I have instructed them to stay their hand as has Yamazaki-sama to her own kobun. Yamazaki-sama and I arranged a mock parley sometime after we grew our numbers significantly enough for our recruits to outnumber those of us who know who you are. We talked in private, informed each other of our moves, and left with a mock truce between Kenji-kai and the 893."

"Good, good. The story is in the details. I'm going to call her up now. Later, Itsuki." Hanging up, you input your favorite split-minded Japanese girl's number.

>(2/2)

The dial drones once and breaks.

"Yes?" A familiar yet stern voice asks.

Raising an eyebrow, you glance at your tablet of glass and plastic from the corner of your eye. "Ren?"

A girlish shocked gasp comes clean in through your genius phone's speakers. "申し訳ありません, Reyes-sama." (Romanji: "Moushiwake arimasen", Translation: "I'm sorry[Incredibly formal apology]))

"Eh, it's no big deal, Ren... You just sounded different is all."

The girl hums. "My apologies, still. What can I help you with?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Are you alone?"

A distant yawn lazes through your genius phone. "Is that...Kojo?" You tilt your head away from the cellular device as a purr caresses your ear. "Where've you been, boss? Snuggling with mistress Ren-Run here hasn't been anywhere near enough for me."

The minx whimpers as a thump pounds through the line.

"Fuck off me, whore!" A grunt overshadows your kitty cat's hurt-yet-aroused mewling. "We're doing just fine without you, Reyes. Your bitch here has been keeping us nice and warm when we sleep. Don't like it, come get her."

Rolling your eyes, you tilt your head back so your phone's to your ear again. "Just what are you doing right now, Run?"

"Watching the clouds with your sex slave, apparently. Ren's been trying to pick it up lately probably trying to figure out why you do it."

You blink. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. I tried explaining it when I wrote, 'Because he's a dull jackass,' on to a Bratva box we were laying on but nooo." She scoffs. "Killing, torturing, stealing, and raping are all you're good for."

A frown makes its way on to your face. "Is she okay or not?"

"Stop pretending like you care beyond needing her to run the Bronx, it's disgusting."

"Is. She. Okay?"

Run sighs. "Yes, now can you stop trying to be intimidating?"

Clicking down on the end-call icon, you let out a drawn groan.

She is such a goddamn bitch, even if she's right about your piece of shit ass.

You input Marcus' burner number and take a deep breath.

The line dial drones five agonizing times before breaking.

"What's the situation?" The voice of the most familiar and reliable person you know asks.

A smile makes its way back on to your face. "...Hey."

"...Hey," Marcus murmurs before his chuckles break the surprised silence, "what the fuck have you been doing since you got out? What the fuck could be more important?"

You raise a hand to rub the back of your head.

There is so much for you to unpack here.

>[ ] "Fuck does it matter? The company is going to be mine in the next few days and everything Fisk owned is mine now."
>[ ] "It's nice to hear from you too; what's been going on in your corner of New York?"
>[ ] "Would you believe me if I told you I was taking time off for personal issues?"
>[ ] "Getting my papers, which we need to get you if you're going to be my COO."
>[ ] "...I met my grandparents."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3872127
>[ ] "Would you believe me if I told you I was taking time off for personal issues?"
But seriously
>[ ] "...I met my grandparents
Last we talked he didn't seem interested in the whole coo thing. If he changes his mind then it can be arranged.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Would you believe me if I told you I was taking time off for personal issues?"
>[X] "...I met my grandparents."

What's better than a good joke between friends to defuse the tension between you two? It's exactly the kind of disarming and unbelievable thing for you of all people to say. You can drop the real bomb on him after you're done laughing at his dumbass. That will absolutely destroy his feelings of annoyed rage and amusement. He'll probably even feel like shit. Of course, you don't want to hurt him, but you really want to try.

"Would you believe me if I told you I was taking time off for personal issues?"

"No..." Marcus chuckles. "Fuck no! Damn sure any employer the poor fuckers who actually use that line on don't believe it and rightfully tell them to get their ass back in the shop. You can pay out the ass for someone to tell you what all your problems are after you've worked your eight hours."

Shaking your head, you laugh to yourself. "I already know what my problems are: I just can't accept them."

"You are so fucked up, Kojo!"

"I know!"

The two of you share a hearty laugh at your comically fucked self.

It would've been better if you just died with your mother and saved everyone else the trouble.

"Nah, for real man," Marcus speaks up again, "what the fuck took you so long?"

You take a deep breath and sigh. "...I met my grandparents."

"...Holy shit, they're alive?"

"Yeah, both of them."

"Fuck, Kojo," he takes a breath, "how did you find them? No, how did it go? Are you alright?"

Laughing, you sit down on your uncomfortable fancy carpet. "You sound a lot like them, you know? Worrying, caring, and protective... It's weird how families are like that; never really got it until I found them, though."

"...And you sound happy. Not happy like you raped an Aryan Princess of a nazi gang or fed someone their own guts, but happy like a normal person."

"Oh, fuck you," the bitch Kojo that you are bitches.

"What? You get off on that shit. I do get where you're getting at, though. My mom... was kind of like that when she wasn't fucked up. Hard to remember looking back on it now."

A small hum churns in your throat.

It's strange going from the doted grandson back to the ruthless crime king. Whatever it is, you can't help but feel like it isn't normal. You aren't normal in any sense of the word, however. Just goes to show how fucked you are. Still nice that you can have some kind parental family you haven't killed yet in your life.

>[ ] "I need people to guard them. Marcus, I... I can't lose anyone else. I can't get my last chance at a family killed again."
>[ ] "I should introduce you to them. I'll say you're my twin brother and they'll fucking lose it."
>[ ] "Sorry if I'm making you feel like you don't have a family. You'll... always be part of mine."
>[ ] "What have you been up to? Anything major happen?"
>[ ] "Just where are you right now?"
>[ ] "Where's Jesus?"
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) if I have enough time before my afternoon class or sometime in the afternoon if I can't.

Thoughts or questions?

Daily Advice: you can get abs if you eat healthier so stop being a fat fuck, like this fun guy is trying.

>>3872733
>[ ] "What have you been up to? Anything major happen?"
Let's find out what's been happening first.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "What have you been up to? Anything major happen?"

You could spend the rest of this call talking about yourself, but you called Marcus to get into contact with him. It's bad to make your best friend sit down and listen to all your horse shit. While you can do it and mildly piss him off, you'll feel like an absolute bitch for using him like that. He needs to know you matter, if not to you then to this entire organization.

"What have you been up to? Anything major happen?"

"Nah, I just been training up the boys I've been recruiting. I've made sure they know how to shoot a gun right, move like a unit with each other, and ambush other groups of people."

Pressing your lips together, you whistle. "Look at soldier boy turning baby-faced gangsters into paramilitary men."

"I actually do have my men split into squads. The old boys from the warehouse are the leaders with the most experience." He laughs. "You can say they're paramilitary again: I've been drilling these boys every day since I settled in here."

"Any of them seem resentful?"

"Just a few but most like the guns, structure, and attitude: we ain't about that disorganized coon thug shit. You get a rank, a gun in good condition, learn how to use and repair that gun, your body worked, dumbass beaten if need be, and a base of operations to live in."

You chuckle. "Found anyone to replace you?"

"Eh, about four people meet my conditions."

"Holy shit, you've gotten to work on your side of the crew."

An affirmative hum rumbles through the line. "I'm not going to be the one guy who lets coon niggas like Cuda run about the gang."

Clucking your tongue, you furrow your brow. "Oh, fuck you." You chuckle. "He's not that bad: he stopped some beef with Ho before it could go completely south."

"Reeeally?"

You roll your eyes.

Now it's his turn to play the bitch.

>[ ] "I should introduce you to my grandparents. I'll say you're my twin brother and they'll fucking lose it."
>[ ] "Sorry if I made you feel like you don't have a family. You'll... always be part of mine."
>[ ] "You can still get very coon nigga, man."
>[ ] "Just where are you right now?"
>[ ] "Where's Jesus?"
>[ ] Write In.

Going to class. Will close voting and update when I get back before my night class starts.

>>3873479
>[ ] "Where's Jesus?"
Gotta know where our enforcer is.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Where's Jesus?"

There's a joke somewhere in where you're about to say, and it's a really shallow one. You'll feel very very ashamed to have Marcus as your best friend if he goes for it: someone with that low level of self-respect isn't worth being friends with. Jesús might be a better best friend to have in case that literal sonofawhore does make that joke.

"Where's Jesus?"

"He's in your heart." Marcus snickers. "A nigga like you needs Jesus."

You bury your face in your free hand. "Fucking hell, you just had to make that joke, didn't you?"

"Kojo, you left your self wide open saying his name like a white guy for once."

"That's no excuse for horrible jokes."

A clucking tongue plops through the line. "Hey, nigga, fuck you!"

"I'm not the one getting uppity here." You scoff.

"Uppity? What generation are you from? Dan was the only white old man who said that kind of shit in our neighborhood, and I could never figure out if that was supposed to be racist or not."

Rolling your eyes, you sigh at your fellow millenial's ignorance. "Nevermind, just tell me where our favorite Colombian is."

"I don't know: he's been going out on his own lately. I'd keep track of him if I really needed him that much anymore. Jesús is still Jesús, though; or he just seems like himself with that dead fucking look always on his face."

"And... you're not worried at all?"

Marcus scoffs. "No, it's Jesús: man could've flipped anytime, but he stayed loyal and is still one of the most competent people in our outfit. He'd have to be crazy to turn on us now with all our resources and our control over New York. The man did flip the moment he saw the bullet bounce off your eye. Plus, I could kill him if I really had to."

"Eh, I'm not sure." Grinning, you glance at your phone from the corner of your eye. "He's a better shot than you."

"Mothafucka, I know magic now! You fucking taught me! I can merc practically anyone now with the exception of your Black Beaner ass."

You snicker to yourself and hum.

Jesús is either trying to take your advice or contemplating suicide. He's not the type to think of a variety of options. You're not sure what he'd be doing if he's taking your advice but he's probably doing something he likes, which you cannot think of for your life.

>[ ] "I should introduce you to my grandparents. I'll say you're my twin brother and they'll fucking lose it."
>[ ] "Sorry if I made you feel like you don't have a family. You'll... always be part of mine."
>[ ] "Do you still want to be my COO?"
>[ ] "Just where are you right now?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3874195
>Next time he's in have him contact me.
He was instrumental in our takedown of Fisk. I'd like to keep better tabs on him.

Going to my night class. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time UTC-8.

Thoughts or questions?

Daily Advice: water is healthy for you and soda is sugary poison

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Next time he's in, have him contact me."

He was the deliverer of your unending wrath on that Heathen false King scum: you'd be an idiot not to be somewhat concerned. The knowledge of what he did is incredibly compromising to you and your nameless organization. Man isn't the type to blab, and he probably had the snitch in him literally beaten out by his father. You need to personally check-up on him.

"Next time he's in, have him contact me."

"Aight, what's your number?"

You blink, remembering your super genius phone's SIM card altering abilities. "Uh, I don't really have one."

"What?" The man clucks his tongue. "Aren't you using your burner?"

"No, I got some top of the line smartphone that switches its phone number on the drop of a hat."

"How the fuck did you... Nevermind, just stick to a number and let him call you."

Another hum rumbles in your throat as you go back to the phone home, swipe up app catalog, and click on the SIM editor "Tell him to call me at Six-Six-Six, One-Six-Four, One-Four-Seven-Three."

"Six-Six-Six? Nigga, you really need Jesus." Your best friend bombs again.

"For fuck's sake, Marcus, stop."

"Oh, fuck you; you're the one who makes this shit so easy."

Clucking your tongue, you glance at your phone. "It's because I have horns and three demon eyes, isn't it?"

"Yes! There are pictures of demons and the devil with horns and three fucked up eyes! If I didn't know you before all this crazy mutant and supernatural shit, I'd definitely say you're the Devil."

"...Huh, you're right: I would be Him."

"Thank you for finally realizing it, Satan."

"Not the name I'd go by, but it's all the same in the end."

Marcus scoffs but doesn't say a word.

Demons, devils, and 'evil' gods are nothing more than gods that realized they could feast on their own kind to gain power. You're the mortal equivalent, only you stopped being mortal the moment you achieved spiritual awareness. Whether or not that'll lead to complications remains to be seen, but it's best to assume the worst.

>[ ] "I should introduce you to my grandparents. I'll say you're my twin brother and they'll fucking lose it."
>[ ] "Sorry if I made you feel like you don't have a family. You'll... always be part of mine."
>[ ] "If I'm Satan, doesn't that make you my demon?"
>[ ] "Do you still want to be my COO?"
>[ ] "Just where are you right now?"
>[ ] "Good to hear from you man, I'll get into contact later."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3875352
>Anything else you want to talk about or that I need to be aware of?
If not then
[ ] "Good to hear from you man, I'll get into contact later."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Anything else you want to talk about or that I need to be aware of?"
>[X] "Good to hear from you then, man, I'll get into contact later."

If there was anything important he had to say to you, he probably already said it, but it doesn't hurt to ask. Never know when one of your lieutenants might drop the ball like an idiot. Marcus has done retarded shit before, like putting Alex in charge of holding Itsuki hostage. You doubt you could've restrained yourself if Alex really was the stupid whore you all thought she was.

"Anything else you want to talk about or that I need to be aware of?"

"Nah, I've said all I need to say. You can keep doing whatever the hell it is you're doing."

You roll your eyes at your best friend's antics. "Good to hear from you then, man, I'll get into contact later." Pressing down on the home button, the phone screen returns to the home screen.

"Wait just a minute." Marcus speaks up.

A questioning hum rumbles in your throat as you still you thumb. "Remember something?"

"Kojo, you're going to be okay."

You raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"You're going to be okay, man." He chuckles. "Everything is going to be okay."

Grimacing, a warmth wafts over you. "...I know." You slide to the calling app and press down on the bright red button, leaving you alone again.

There's still so much left for you to do despite coming so far. All it takes is one mistake and one dead grandparent and you'll be drowning in the stream forever, though. Some part of you knows you can never let that happen while another knows it's inevitable. Whatever the case, you need to live and let die.

You take a deep breath of your townhouse's air and sigh.

It's still cold in here.

>[ ] Teleport back to Strange's, wouldn't hurt to master the last tier of magic.
>[ ] Lounge around for a couple of days, nothing else you can do now.
>[ ] Shift over to Tinkerer's, it'd be good to keep an eye on him.
>[ ] Port back to your grandparents', you can wait with them.
>[ ] Phase into Silvio's, he has to hear the good news.
>[ ] Write In.

Goddamn, I nodded off a quarter way through this.

Getting late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) before my morning class starts.

Any thoughts or questions?

Daily Advice: get anti-acne cream, you want to look good don't you?

>>3875796
>[ ] Lounge around for a couple of days, nothing else you can do now.
Let's skip ahead to the meeting.

>>3875796
>>[ ] Lounge around for a couple of days, nothing else you can do now.
>>3875798
sleep tight

overslept just in time to get to my afternoon class, yay

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Lounge around for a couple of days, nothing else you can do now.

You can spend time with your folks, Strange, the Manfredis, and Tink from time to time while you wait for shit to go down. No need to bother other people more than you have to. Salomon and Akosua may be uplifted by your continued couch lounging, but you don't want to be a homeless parasite despite being a rich motherfucker with loads of real estate in his possession. Calling up the undercover members of your inner circle is also out of the question.

Plopping yourself back down on the uncomfortable fancy carpet, you close your eyes.

Three or so hours of resting pass until you feel a strange yet pleasant vibration by your genitals.

You open your eyes, dig your hand into your, pocket, and pull out your rumbling super genius phone. Raising an eyebrow, you examine the number for a moment before smacking yourself with your free hand as you remember you gave Marcus your number to give to Jesús.

Goddamn, you can be a forgetful idiot sometimes.

A groan escapes your lips as you swipe right on your favorite enforcer, bringing the smartphone to your ear. "Buenas tardes, Jesús." (Translation: "Good afternoon")

"Buenas tardes, patrón." Your ever stiff former lieutenant greets back.

Humming, you focus on your crisp white ceiling.

Phineas is hard to read in how eccentric he is, and this guy is always hard to read in just how monotone he is. You need to get therapy for both either way: mental illness often leads to a lowered life-span. Jesús and the old man should live as much and as vibrantly as they can before they either move on to Oblivion or whatever lies beyond Death's claiming.

>[ ] "...You remind me a lot of me, you know that right? I know you're not fucked up like I was but... I kind of understand what you're going through: I think I understand what I've put everyone who's ever met me through, actually. We're all suffering for the things we've done and because of circumstances beyond our control. I guess I just wanted to tell you... it's okay, Jesús."
>[ ] "Jesús, do you want a change in occupation?"
>[ ] "I heard you've been going out lately."
>[ ] "Where exactly are you right now?"
>[ ] "How have you been?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3877076
>[ ] "I heard you've been going out lately."
>[ ] "Where exactly are you right now?"
>[ ] "How have you been?"
See what he's been up to and then work from there

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "I heard you've been going out lately."
>[X] "Where exactly are you right now?"
>[X] "How have you been?"

Better to build up to the emotional thought you had in mind than lead on with it: he'll probably think you're the one with issues rather than him, which you kind of are. He's not the emotional type anyway. It's not exactly healthy, but that's just who he is, like you once were. Gonna take some time for him to warm up to people and, most of all, himself.

"I heard you've been going out lately."

An affirmative hum resonates through the phone line. "He estado, patrón." (Translation: "I've been, boss.")

"Where exactly are you right now?" You narrow your eyes.

"Freshkills Park, Staten Island by the Fresh Kills, patrón."

Relaxing a bit, you raise an eyebrow. "Admiring the scenery?"

"Si, patrón." The man holds a beat. "...It's peaceful here."

"How have you been?"

"Fine. I've been trying to move on, like you said patrón. I am, but... it's hard."

A frown makes its way on to your face.

"I know: I thought I finally accepted my past back when I told you, but that was only the beginning. It's going to take a lot of time for either of us to really move on. Guess it just begins with acceptance."

The man hums again in understanding but keeps silent.

You loosen up more and glance at your super genius phone.

Now might be the time to spring all that emotional spiel that came to mind.

>[ ] "...You remind me a lot of me, you know that right? I know you're not fucked up like I was but... I kind of understand what you're going through: I think I understand what I've put everyone who's ever met me through, actually. We're all suffering for the things we've done and because of circumstances beyond our control. I guess I just wanted to tell you... it's okay, Jesús."
>[ ] "...Wait a minute, did you go to the park after Marcus told you or did he realize he could call you about it?"
>[ ] "Did you hear from Marcus how I've got things under my control?"
>[ ] "Jesús, do you want a change in occupation?"
>[ ] "Good to hear from you, man. Later."
>[ ] Write In.

Late. Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8)

Thoughts or questions?

Daily Advice: resist impulse buying, you will save a lot of money.

>>3877425
>[ ] "...You remind me a lot of me, you know that right? I know you're not fucked up like I was but... I kind of understand what you're going through: I think I understand what I've put everyone who's ever met me through, actually. We're all suffering for the things we've done and because of circumstances beyond our control. I guess I just wanted to tell you... it's okay, Jesús."
Sure let's give the big speech.

Voting closed; writing now.

You ever think of changing up the op image boss? Might get some fresh faces if you used some of those edits an anon made awhile back.

>[X] "...You remind me a lot of me, you know that right? I know you're not fucked up like I was but... I kind of understand what you're going through: I think I understand what I've put everyone who's ever met me through, actually. We're all suffering for the things we've done and because of circumstances beyond our control. I guess I just wanted to tell you... it's okay, Jesús."

The foundation for an emotional moment has been built up enough. It's not too emotional, but it's just right enough to maybe stir something in that stone cold motherfucker. You doubt he'll really understand what you're saying; even so, you feel like getting this off your chest. Marcus' words might help him or they might not. Whatever happens, you've got to say it anyway.

Breathing in a deep breath, you let out a sigh. "...You remind me a lot of me, you know that right? I know you're not fucked up like I was but... I kind of understand what you're going through: I think I understand what I've put everyone who's ever met me through, actually. We're all suffering for the things we've done and because of circumstances beyond our control. I guess I just wanted to tell you... it's okay, Jesús."

"...Patrón, are you okay?"

"Yeah," you raise an eyebrow, "you're the one with the big problems here."

The man hums but stays silent.

"...It sounds like you don't believe me." You say in a somewhat menacing, accusing manner.

"I don't, patrón."

Clucking your tongue, you furrow your brow. "I admire the brass balls on you, Jesús. Still can't tell whether they're there or you just don't give a fuck: it's kind of fucking my head, ironically enough."

"Patrón, I don't understand what you're trying to say."

"Neither do I, Jesús, neither do I."

Another hum resonates through the line. "...Thank you, patrón."

You unfurrow your brow as you blink. "...You're welcome, Jesús"

It seems you either got partly through to him or he's just saying thank you to get you to shutup. Man is progressing whatever intent he had behind his words. Gonna take a long time for him to climb over his cliff, almost as much as it'll take you.

>[ ] "...Wait a minute, did you go to the park after Marcus told you or did he realize he could call you about it?"
>[ ] "Did you hear from Marcus how I've got things under my control?"
>[ ] "...You're a good-looking guy, you know that, right?"
>[ ] "Jesús, do you want a change in occupation?"
>[ ] "Good to hear from you, man. Later."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3878353
those edits were pretty eh, though

If I'm changing the op, I'll probably change it to something I commissioned, if I ever bother to.

>>3878354
>[ ] "Did you hear from Marcus how I've got things under my control?"
>[ ] "Jesús, do you want a change in occupation?"
Marcus said he doesn't have much use for him so we should see if he wants to move somewhere else.

>>3878356
Still more eye catching I feel but you're the boss.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Did you hear from Marcus how I've got things under my control?"
>[X] "Jesús, do you want a change in occupation?"

Marcus is the professional and smart type to inform those who need to know about the things they need to know, but you wouldn't put it past him to fuck up. No harm going over it again with Jesús and finding out if he wants to switch gang roles or not. He could use a role he'd like playing. You're not quite sure what that is, though.

"Did you hear from Marcus how I've got things under my control?"

"Si, patrón."

A hum rumbles in your throat. "Jesús, do you want a change in occupation?"

"To what occupation?"

"I don't know." You shrug. "Any that sounds like something you'd like to do. I'm going to be the CEO of an entire company: I can hook you up with whatever job you want, legal or illegal."

Silence falls over the line.

You raise your upper body of the carpet and glance at your phone. "Jesús?"

"Si, patrón?"

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot the thin block of plastic and metal a look. "Can you think of anything or are you fine being where you are now? Marcus doesn't seem to need you with him anymore. You can't go back to Ren on account of that whole traitor merc story we made up either. I'd recommend you Cuda if his outgoing personality wouldn't tolerate your quiet ass. Itsuki seems like a good fit: he can't train all his men on his own."

"If that's what you feel is best, patrón."

"But is it what you want?"

"...I don't really know what I want."

You lay back down on the carpet.

It seems like he's going to need a push or two. Might be better just to send him off to Itsuki: the man seems like he could help with his own past experiences and personality. You can always come back to him with the same question sometime later too. He just has to decide something important for himself eventually.

>[ ] "...Wait a minute, did you go to the park after Marcus told you or did he realize he could call you about it?"
>[ ] "How about you work as my secretary or something? You could use a break from all this hood shit."
>[ ] "Can you describe you surroundings for me? I'll be there in a second."
>[ ] "Just go to Itsuki in Queens. I'll tell him your coming."
>[ ] "...You're a good-looking guy, you know that, right?"
>[ ] "Good to hear from you then. Later."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3878729
>[ ] "Just go to Itsuki in Queens. I'll tell him your coming."
>Try to find an answer for this and let me know what you need.
A good king looks after his loyal subjects.

Forgot to mention I was getting a cake quarter way through the update to give to my uncle for his birthday.

Staying around for coffee and the cake after pizza do I'll probably be here late.

Will close voting and update tomorrow morning my time (UTC-8) If I can wake up on time.

Thoughts or questions?

Daily Advice: bearded lizards do not a good pet make to Mexican cousins.

>>3878912
Not to be a downer but what's the line for you to quit at? Feels like it's usually just me most of the time and I will if I miss a vote then that'll be it for the quest.

Is the pacing of the quest going to change once we're fully in control of Fisk industries? None of our projects will see fruition if we play it day by day. If they do it'll feel like it happened way too fast.

Again I'm not trying to be negative, I'll stick it out regardless, but I'd like to see some new blood.

>>3879052
7:40-8:00PM my time. Yeah, the pacing will change. There's also that bonus I mentioned you'd get once you got control of the company. I honestly can't wait to see how you guy(s) react.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Just go to Itsuki in Queens. I'll tell him you're coming."
>[X] "Try to find an answer for this and let me know what you need."

Mr. Yakuza Samurai's personality is the one most similar to Jesús' out of your entire inner circle. You could mentor him yourself, but you have a business to run very soon. Itsuki might find a suitable heir for his family's sword in Jesús too. A Colombian running around with a possessed Japanese demon sword sounds ridiculous enough to be awesome. Although, there's always a chance he figures out what he wants before that happens.

"Just go to Itsuki in Queens. I'll tell him you're coming."

"Okay, patrón."

You roll your eyes. "Try to find an answer for this and let me know what you need."

The man hums. "I will, patrón." He sighs. "I'll try."

"I'd tell you not try and do but that'd be cliche and I'm pretty sure you've never watched Star Wars before, which is fine because I still haven't. Sometimes trying is all you can do and just trying is enough."

"...Te entiendo, patrón" (Translation: "I understand you, boss.")

"Come on, Jesús," you cluck your tongue, "do you really expect me to believe you when you say it like that? When you say it in the same tone you respond to everything with? I know I just said something crazy followed by some touchy-feely advice to comfort you: you don't have to say you understand."

"Entonces, no te entiendo, patrón." (Translation: "Then, I don't understand you, boss.")

"Good, you shouldn't try on any kind of personal level. Just do you, okay? Try to do what makes you feel something pleasant or maybe even sad if necessary. Doesn't matter what it is, you still have to do it, even if it's pointless."

Jesús hums again but says nothing.

You place a hand under your head to give the carpeted floor some sturdiness.

The conversation is more or less over by now. You can try and continue it if you really want to, but it's going to be really awkward with his socially retarded ass. Jesús is a fucking chore to talk to like that. Maybe he'll wise up one day and maybe not.

>[ ] "...Wait a minute, did you go to the park after Marcus told you or did he realize he could call you about it?"
>[ ] "Can you describe you surroundings for me? I'll be there in a second."
>[ ] "...You're a good-looking guy, you know that, right?"
>[ ] "Good to hear from you. Later."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3880404
>[ ] "Good to hear from you. Later."
Let's wrap this up

Voting closed; writing now

Probably going to go grocery shopping before I finish the update. Gotta stock up on writer fuel as it were.

>[X] "Good to hear from you. Later."

You've said all that you needed to say. It's all up to Itsuki to dewarp Jesús' twisted little mind. Man will probably never really heal from his past, but he can move on someday, like you. Unlike you, time is a commodity you have as Jesús will probably grow old and die one day without magic or genetic modifications. Almost everyone else in your life is going to die the same way too. The people closest to you will live on longer than others though.

"Good to hear from you. Later." Pressing down on the red phone button, you slide your super genius phone back into your pocket.

A sigh escapes your lips as you stretch yourself out against the uncomfortable fancy carpet.

The next week or so passes with nothing much worth mentioning. You inform Itsuki as soon as you can, check-in with Arkwright on the date of the board meeting, pop into your grandparents' and the Manfredi's from time to time, pay the occasional visit to a jumpy Sorcerer Supreme, and check up on Tink every so often until the date and time arrive.

Kip-upping to your feet, you weave a portal into being and step through it in front of a familiar conference room entrance within Fisk Tower.

You open the entrance and step into a room of surprised, familiar-looking businessmen.

Arkwright, behind his seat at the end of the large table, smiles. "Ah, and here's the special guest I was just talking about."

"Good things, I hope." Your eyes scan the faces of your board of directors. "Though, I'm sure you couldn't say much considering it's been, like, two or three minutes since this meeting started."

"You're fashionably late, wearing the same exact thing you wore when you first met with me."

Shooting him a look, you cluck your tongue. "It's been a week: I got these washed. Business casual is also best casual."

"Uh," one of the businessmen, Benjamin Hadley, gulps, "w-why is he here."

You flip over the large table to Arkwright's side, drawing gasps and jolts out of your audience.

It's time.

>[ ] "Ladies and gentlemen, I know every skeleton you each keep in your closet. I am effectively Mr. Fisk reborn in a better-looking Afro-French Mexican body. Appoint me CEO and I won't tell the world about all the hands you've greased, bodies you needed professional cleaning, sex slaves you keep in your sex dungeons, and just how often you fuck your fellow employees for that power relationship high."
>[ ] "Do I even need to say it? The company is now mine. You will hold a vote and decide on me to be the next CEO."
>[ ] "I am the majority shareholder. I have more of a right to be here than any of you."
>[ ] "Arkwright, would you do me the honors?"
>[ ] "Let's go over our agenda first."
>[ ] Take out your super genius phone, scan for bugs, and put on white noise. It's never a bad thing to play it safe, especially now.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3881084
>[ ] Take out your super genius phone, scan for bugs, and put on white noise. It's never a bad thing to play it safe, especially now.
>[ ] "Arkwright, would you do me the honors?"

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Take out your super genius phone, scan for bugs, and put on white noise. It's never a bad thing to play it safe, especially now.
>[X] "Arkwright, would you do me the honors?"

It's so passe to do everything own your own, especially when you're one rich motherfucker. Your obedient little toadie can kiss your ass and present it for you. What's the point of having servants if not for that very purpose? As a leader and manager of a large business, you need to start delegating these things for your own and everyone else's good. First things first, though.

You dig your hand into your pocket, pull out your super genius phome, lay it on the table swipe up the app catalog, tap on the bug detector icon, and dual tap the scanner as well as the crossed out speaker icon. Parting your lips, you notice a red dot light up on the radar. A hum rumbles in your throat as you look to the center of the table, the location of the bug.

Seems it really is time.

"Mr. Reyes?" The chairman of the board calls out from your side.

"Arkwright," you turn to the toadie, grinning, "would you do me the honors?"

Gresham glances at your phone before nodding and rising. "The man by my side is one you all know and should know: Kojo Reyes, the inheritor of our dearly departed CEO's fortune, investments, and assets. We are here today to vote him into the position of CEO."

"And why should we do that?" A woman, Elizabeth Mayes, asks.

"I agree," Lanford Appleton speaks up, "this hoodrat who's probably never held a job in his life can't possibly run a company as big as Fisk Industries." He scoffs. "He looks barely old enough to drink."

Arkwright takes a moment to breathe before letting out a sigh. "...My fellow coworkers, Mr. Reyes here claims to know everything about our operations and he means everything." He narrows his eyes as he glances to you. "Does your knowledge extend to the members of this board?"

You nod. "Every last one of them. I could dig out all the skeletons in your closet and throw them out on the table if you really want me to prove it."

"Then do it." Mrs. Bitch raises her voice again.

Chuckling, you turn to Mayes.

This is going to be more fun than you thought it'd be.

>[ ] "Before I actually delve into any of that, you should all know there's a bug in the center of this room, likely underneath the table. Everything we say is currently being blocked out by white noise made by my phone. Did one of you put it there or is this outside interference?"
>[ ] "Majority shareholderhood is not something anyone here can fuck with. Do you all really want to test me?"
>[ ] "Is it the androgynousness or the softness of Filipino teenagers that gets you off the most?"
>[ ] "Do you really want to fight me on this? How do you think I actually became Fisk's heir?"
>[ ] "Our stock prices have gone down since Fisk got half his head blown off, haven't they?"
>[ ] "Let's go over our agenda first."
>[ ] Write In.

>>3881605
>[ ] "Is it the androgynousness or the softness of Filipino teenagers that gets you off the most?"
Shut her uppity ass soon immediately and the rest should follow suit.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Is it the androgynousness or the softness of Filipino teenagers that gets you off the most?"

No sense beating around the metaphorical bush in this multi-storied literal tower of a building. When bitches and bitch ass niggas get all uppity, you have to pimp slap them back down on their knees, where they belong. You don't need to play nice with this board of scumfuck pussy ass bitches, and you don't want to. The only thing they'll get from you is their usual pay and benefits, if you feel like paying them at all.

"Is it the androgynousness or the softness of Filipino teenagers that gets you off the most?"

The woman blinks, blushes, and shakes in her seat as her coworkers turn to her with surprised as well as suggestive eyes. "...I ...I h-have no idea what you're talking about!"

You cackle at the bitch's utter failure to defend herself. "The look on your fucking face!" Focusing on the rest of the board, you dart your eyes along them. "Does anyone else really want me to air out all their shit for them? I'd be more than happy to publicly humiliate you before exposing what you've done and usually do to the public at large."

Everyone, excluding Gresham, shakes their head in silence.

"Great, absolutely fantastic." You turn to Arkwright. "Would you do the honors chairman?"

The man raises his hand into the air. "All in favor of appointing Kojo Reyes CEO of Fisk Industries?"

Eleven other hands belonging to each of the eleven other board members join the chairman's.

"Kojo Reyes, by unanimous vote, is now our CEO."

A wave of euphoria washes over you as some of the board directors applaud your greatness.

It took a little more time than you thought it'd take to really get a hold of your things, but it's done now: you are officially the CEO of your own multi-billion dollar company that you are totally going to rename. Your father and mother would be proud; Dan and Abuelita, on the other hand, would probably be disappointed in you. Salomon and Akosua are definitely going to have some things to say about this too. SHIELD and Hydra are also casting a shadow on your distant future.

Too early to say you're in the clear just yet, as always.

>[ ] "Before I actually delve into any official business, you should all know there's a bug in the center of this room, likely underneath the table. Everything we say is currently being blocked out by white noise made by my phone. Did one of you put it there or is this outside interference?"
>[ ] "Our stock prices have gone down since Fisk got half his head blown off, haven't they?"
>[ ] "Let's go over our agenda."
>[ ] Get settled into your position, it'll take two weeks or so but you can get a lot done in that time.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3881848
>[ ] "Our stock prices have gone down since Fisk got half his head blown off, haven't they?"
Don't make a fuss about the bug but don't forget it's there either. If one of them did put it there they wouldn't cop to it.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Our stock prices have gone down since Fisk got half his head blown off, haven't they?"

Addressing some concerns or getting an idea of just what's going on right now will help you out in the long run. Of course, you were going to get a handle on things anyway to properly run this company. You can leave the bug where it is for now. Someone should be in range to intercept whatever audio is being transmitted. The invisible third eye on your forehead should help with that.

"Our stock prices have gone down since Fisk got half his head blown off, haven't they?"

Members of the board grimace at the reminder.

"Dying in such a manner while you were the longest running and only CEO of a multi-billion dollar company tends to do that to one's stock prices, yes." Arkwright chimes in.

A hum rumbles in our throat. "It'll probably take a while to get it back up, but my election is a good start. From here, I'll take care of things and get our stock back up with some good new innovation."

"I sincerely hope you have some idea of how to pull that off."

"Yeah, I do." You pick up and wave the back of your phone to the rest of the board. "This alone is enough to clear our losses, gain an all-new market, branch out into another industry, and gain ten or twelve more billions to our overall company's networth."

"Just what does it do?" Hadley boy asks.

Chuckling, you set the super genius phone back on to the table. "What doesn't it do, is the question. It's going to make us even richer primarily, but it's utility is a thing of beauty.

The board of directors eye the slim, round-cornered rectangle of plastic with much interest.

All you need is Tink in a specialized workshop with mass production equipment and your company will become the new face of cellular devices in the entire fucking world.

>[ ] "Before I actually delve into anymore official business, you should all know there's a bug in the center of this room, likely underneath the table. Everything we say is currently being blocked out by white noise made by my phone. Did one of you put it there or is this outside interference?"
>[ ] "I'm going to go now. There are going to be quite a few changes while I'm in power. Our fucking company name for one but that's just the beginning."
>[ ] "Let's go over the rest of our agenda."
>[ ] Get settled into your position, it'll take two weeks or so but you can get a lot done in that time.
>[ ] Close your eyes and peer through your third, you need to track the bug's transmission.
>[ ] Write In.

>>3882676
>[ ] "Let's go over the rest of our agenda."
>[ ] Close your eyes and peer through your third, you need to track the bug's transmission.
While they go on with the usual business try and discern the bugs purpose.

>>3882709
support

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "Let's go over the rest of our agenda."
>[X] Close your eyes and peer through your third, you need to track the bug's transmission.

There's no better place to get a full idea on just what's going on in your company than here. First, you have to get a handle on just what the hell is happening with that bug. A little corporate espionage on something like this is nothing to worry about, but it is if it's not another company listening in. SHIED and Hydra are very much an immediate concern. You might fuck yourself over depending on how you handle this.

"Let's go over the rest of our agenda."

As the chairman takes the lead again, you close your eyes and let yourself flow out into The World through your third.

That which is you encompasses Fisk Tower and the surrounding three blocks.

Waves of radiation which smelled, tasted, sounded, looked, and felt faint in previous viewings are all the more noticeable in your Commerce Tower. Under the center of the table, a small metal radiation emitter distinguishes itself from the rest by its proximity to your vessel. The puny listening device has a wide range thanks to the efficiency and power of its electron accelerating components, playing off one another and supercharging the particles around it.

Many electromagnetic wave detecting devices are in your Sphere of Influence but none are deciphering the frequency of the listening device.

You open your eyes and hum as Akrwright goes on about the company investors' loss of faith.

Whoever's listening in is farther away than you third eye sphere range. Doing the cone version of it in a full three-hundred and sixty degree sweep could help you find out where they are. You can probably do it now and port over to catch them in the act, if they're even personally listening in on the meeting. Might be the only time you'll catch them.

>[ ] "I'm going to go now. There are going to be quite a few changes while I'm in power. Our fucking company name for one but that's just the beginning."
>[ ] Make a note of things to do as you settle in, you've got other shit beside your company to handle too.
>[ ] Get settled into your position, it'll take two weeks or so but you can get a lot done in that time.
>[ ] Use your third-eye cone vision to find the bug listening device, you have to handle it eventually.
>[ ] Listen to the rest of the board meeting, why not?
>[ ] Write In.

>>3883013
>[ ] Make a note of things to do as you settle in, you've got other shit beside your company to handle too.

>>3883127
Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] Make a note of things to do as you settle in, you've got other shit beside your company to handle too.

>(1/2)

You can't just fully switch gears from magical Kingpin of Crime to CEO of a somewhat legitimate business. Grandma and grandpa still need to be protected, you need to meet with Cuda, the others have to be informed about the espionage attempt to get them to be even more careful, you need to work on putting all your estates into good use, and you've gotta see if Beck has anything you need. It's going to take two phone calls, maybe a few hours, weeks, and about a day to do all of that. Adjusting to your new position is going to take all of that combined and more.

A quick hop takes you to the center of the table, where you spend the rest of the meeting laying on and listening to everyone go over the company's issues.

The next two weeks go on with nothing too serious happening.

You track the bug back to a business building's abandoned basement next to another far-reaching transmitter device, have Itsuki assign several of his elite men to patrol and stand guard outside of your grandparents' house, meet with Cuda and designate him your unofficial viceroy of Manhattan with Ho as well as the Rivals unofficially falling under his jurisdiction, tell all your lieutenants to stay on their toes, sort out deeds that you can have your lieutenants make use of, change the accursed elevator music, go through the lengthy process of changing Fisk Industries into Ventura Reyes, have your design team make a new three-eyed minotaur trademark for the re-branding, have a contract drafted for Beck's shit, instruct Gresham to purchase a large building for your favorite Tinkerer to eventually move into, and pay the occasional visit to the trifecta (Phineas, the Manfredis, and your grandparents).

File: Spoiler Image (154 KB, 690x729)

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>(2/2)

Groans escape your lips as you read over the company's latest stock price reports.

Changing the name of Fisk Industries to suit you was necessary to appease your demonic ego at the unfortunate expense of your company networth recovery. It's a dime in the sea of cash you're going to be rolling in when you get all the materials old man Phineas will ever need, but that's taking quite some time. Oversea shipping from child factories is expensive and time-consuming for the companies that don't own those factories: their materials are usually driven to another child labor factory in the same country to make into products.

Your nose twitches at a faint stranger's scent wafting in from the direction of your heli-pad's staircase. Blinking, you briefly wonder how the hell someone got into the building from there without making any noise before standing up from behind your desk as you remember supers exist in your crazy ass world.

A quick flip over your desk takes you to your office door. Opening it, you step out into the top floor that opens up to your secretary, Nina Zanetti, desk right in front of your office.

Turning to your right, the part of the hall that leads to your helipad, you see a dark-skinned and broad-shouldered woman in a form-fitting combat outfit with a glasses-wearing man in a scientist-esque suit at the end where your staircase up begins.

You raise an eyebrow as the woman grins.

Her scent is barely even there and it's off in a way you've never witnessed before.

>[ ] "Both of you have five minutes to get the hell off my property before I paint this hall red with your insides."
>[ ] "You could've just called ahead of time or checked in at the entrance if you wanted a meeting."
>[ ] "Are you the idiots that bugged my board room meeting?"
>[ ] "What are you? Mutate? Lab rat? Alien? Witch?"
>[ ] "...SHIELD or Hydra?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3883483
>[ ] "Both of you have five minutes to get the hell off my property before I paint this hall red with your insides

>>3883483
>[ ] "You could've just called ahead of time or checked in at the entrance if you wanted a meeting."
Don't give anything away.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>[ ] "Both of you have five minutes to get the hell off my property before I paint this hall red with your insides
>[ ] "You could've just called ahead of time or checked in at the entrance if you wanted a meeting."

>[X] "You could've just called ahead of time or checked in at the entrance if you wanted a meeting."

>(1/3)

While you would very much like to let the Devil out, it's best to be welcoming and cordial with your impolite trespassers. They took the effort to somehow get here without making a noise or a big scene. Either they have something very private to discuss with you or are here to kill you very silently and save you face from a city-wide destructive conflict. Odd pair might be from Hydra or SHIELD or they might not be. Maybe they're here to offer you a good deal on something shady and most likely completely illegal, who knows?

"You could've just called ahead of time or checked in at the entrance if you wanted a meeting."

The glasses wearing man smiles. "Cordial and pleasant even to trespassers, Mr. Reyes? Either you really are a pleasant young man for your true occupation or you're a wise one."

Keeping your eyebrow raised, you shoot the stranger a look. "True occupation? What are you talking about?"

Dr. Stranger snickers as his female muscle chuckles. "Oh, Mr. Reyes, let's not play this game. Would you be so kind to lead us into your office so we can discuss our business with you further, away from possible prying ears?"

You narrow your eyes, turn, and wave for the contrasting duo to follow you.

Reaching to and opening the CEO office door, you flip forward once again and land right on your office chair, legs kicked up over your desk.

A small laugh hums in the man's throat while the woman scoffs at your pageantry.

Taking out your genius phone, you flip up the app catalog and tap on the crossed out cockroach to put on some white noise just in case. "So, why are you two here?"

"Your predecessor was a customer of ours. Mr. Fisk had many, many enemies and upstarts in his real organization and outside to worry about. Some in particular were mutants or subjects of experiments left with extraordinary abilities. Our service, specifically the topic of our meeting, was used when his other assassins were either completing other contracts, dead, or simply not up to the task."

Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head. "Do you want me to hire you to do the same or are you just here to recommend your services?"

The man laughs. "Something like that. To tell the truth, we're here to ask you for help in getting our little 'service' back to us. Our sources in the local coroner's office informed us one of Mr. Fisk's private security had some kind of claw rip through them while they were trying to protect him. While not exactly the same as our usual claw mark, we figured it wouldn't hurt to ask you if you had our 'service' in your possession."

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>(2/3)

"For the last time, I had nothing to do with Fisk's death."

Mrs. Armstrong cackles as her partner rolls his eyes. "Suuure you didn't. You really just met the big guy once upon a time in a shithole, saved him from a mugger, and got him to sign over everything to you after he died over his own dried out wife just because your deadbeat dad was his bitch?" The woman scoffs. "I can't believe people actually fucking bought that."

"As I was saying," Mr. Man takes a photo from his pocket and sets it on the table, "this is our last taken picture of our 'service.'

You freeze as your burning demon eyes meet with hollow green.

...

"...I'm – I'm sorry! I... I won’t do it again, I promise, I... Don’t... don’t get rid of me. It won't happen again."

...

"Recognize it do you?"

Blinking, you look back up to the smiling suit. "...No, not at all."

The man hums as his partner shoots you a side-eyed stare. "Either you were quite taken by it or you recognize the face."

>(3/3)

A scoff escapes your lips followed by deep chuckles. "No, no, no, no." Shaking your head, a frown makes its way on to your face. There's no room in this world for broken things. "You keep talking about her like she's a thing."

"She is." Tall, dark, and thick chimes in, teeth shining white. "She's an animal who just got out of her cage is all: my favorite pet, although a little too disobedient. We'd put her down but she's just so much fun and worth far more alive than dead."

"What exactly do you want me to do?" You sigh. "I really have no idea who or where that girl is, much less what her fucking name is."

"She is subject X-23 and frequently uses the alias Laura Kinney to refer to herself. We would like you to help in securing X-23 if possible, but we'd settle on a solid DNA sample, either a fresh limb or an organ: she tends to slip away and slaughter dozens of highly trained operatives every time we corner her."

You bury your face in your hand. "Fucking hell..." Dragging your hand off your face, you groan. "And what do I get in return?"

"Besides access to our service at a discount, we can enhance any of your own 'employees' at a reasonable price. Either that or we can even work on enhancing you. Splicing your mutant DNA with other mutant DNA would take some time, but it is possible. We can even find ways to reverse engineer what made certain mutates into what they are and attempt to add that to your natural mutations."

A hum rumbles in your throat as you lean back in your seat.

This is an opportunity to have greater power and give your lieutenants something to put them on the level of supers, but you have magic for that already. At the very least, you'll have a fresh contact and a 1st rate assassin. You can't help but feel really... off about this though.

>[ ] "...I'm in. Do you have something I can track her by or do you somehow expect me to bump into this chick by chance?"
>[ ] "Both of you have five minutes to get the hell off my property before I paint this office red with your insides."
>[ ] "Are you also the idiots that bugged my board room meeting?"
>[ ] "What are you? Mutate? Lab rat? Alien? Witch?"
>[ ] "First, just who the fuck are you people?"
>[ ] Write In.

Going to my morning class. Will close voting and update when I get back if there's any.

>>3883609
>[ ] "What are you? Mutate? Lab rat? Alien? Witch?"
Not feeling it. Wouldn't trust them worth a damn.

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "What are you? Mutate? Lab rat? Alien? Witch?"

Having faith in anyone who just broke into your Tower with a deal to genetically enhance anyone you want at the cost of finding their escaped test subject is a very stupid thing to do. You're not sure what the woman's powers are, but you've taken down people far stronger than you in the past. If you know what she is, maybe you'll have an easier time laying her out.

You glance at the dark-skinned, broad-shouldered woman. "What are you? Mutate? Lab rat? Alien? Witch?"

"What does it matter?" Mrs. Thick chuckles. "The number one rule of our organization is do. Not. Fuck with me. Don't you ever try to fuck with me, Reyes." A familiar scent begins wafting from areas of her body you haven't been smelling much of as of late from other women. "But hey, if you really want to fuck up, I'd be more than happy to break you into my new pet as we make you our new little gene bitch."

"To answer your question, Mr. Reyes, my associate has been enhanced and modified to be the perfect counter to X-23. She was assigned to be its handler and ensure she'd fall in line or be punished if it ever showed abnormal behavior."

Raising an eyebrow, you shoot a look at the woman. "...And yet you still don't have her in your possession."

She furrows her brow and glares at you. "My girl has always been one limber little bitch. This is just a little phase of hers, though. She's gotten a taste for freedom and, like the animal she is, she doesn't want to get back in the cage. Only, it's a matter of time until the inevitable."

"Yet you're still asking me for help?"

The woman groans.

You relax in your chair and smirk.

Okay, maybe this is going to be more fun than you thought it'd be. Still no point trusting them, but antagonizing the bitch isn't really costing you any relationship points. Woman kind of has your personality and attitude towards violence but lacks restraint. It'd be pathetic if you didn't see some potential in that.

>[ ] "How about we make this a competition? Let's see who can find Laura first in this city. Fuck it, let's see who brings her or parts of her in."
>[ ] "...I'm in. Do you have something I can track her by or do you somehow expect me to bump into this chick by chance?"
>[ ] "Both of you have five minutes to get the hell off my property before I paint this office red with your insides."
>[ ] "Wait a minute, is the girl even in the city? Are you operating here just on that coroner report?"
>[ ] "Are you also the idiots that bugged my board room meeting?"
>[ ] "What are you? Mutate? Lab rat? Alien? Witch?"
>[ ] "First, just who the fuck are you people?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3884241
>Pass. Not really piquing my interest.
Nothing to really be gained here without giving up something that's more important.

>>3884261
What are you giving up? Just because agree to something also doesn't mean you have to do it. Loopholes are also a thing.

thought you guys wanted gene upgrades

>>3884241
>>[ ] "Wait a minute, is the girl even in the city? Are you operating here just on that coroner report?"
Just to clarify, the guard they're talking about is the one, I'm assuming, we killed with our finger

>>3884337
Yes, you had an option to look over the marks left for a reason.

I mean, you could've framed Wolverine for the job if you really wanted to. Just mimic the slashes on the other guards and leave no DNA evidence and poof.

>>3884268
We give up information. Plus they'll have black mail material on us.

>>3884417
You're just giving them their asset back or helping gain back what they've lost.

Blackmail with what proof? They just don't believe your story. Also, they're likely criminals too.

Are you really sure you want to pass?

>>3884337
While I'm waiting for a final choice, I'll just go with this for now since it's a neutral option asking for more information.

Catching up reading from when I've been away, but I'm back.

>>3884443
Maybe I'm just being overly paranoia but I don't trust them with knowing who we would want to upgrade. It's easy to assume whoever they do is high up in our circle.

Ayy... you.

>>3884532
>>3884533
Honestly, I'm just happy to have another voting reader.

>[X] "Wait a minute, is the girl even in the city? Are you operating here just on that coroner report?"

>(1/2)

Even if they're really that determined to get Laura back in her cage, it's odd they came here just because one of your killings matched their pet's usual M.O. They either heard something else that drew them here or are really desperate to get X-23 back. Who knows, they might even be here for you and are just baiting you into a trap.

"Wait a minute, is the girl even in the city? Are you operating here just on that coroner report?"

The doctor-looking man smiles. "Our agents placed within SHIELD informed us that a helicopter team accompanying Captain America was dispatched towards the Canadian-United States border in New York to apprehend Presidential Candidate Johnson's assassin."

A flood of memories that aren't yours and from a different world flash through your mind.

Blinking, you look from the stranger to the ever growing familiar woman and back again. "...Are you telling me it was your lab rat that slaughtered Johnson and his entire crowd at his own goddamn event?" A scoff escapes your lips. "Bullseye could've done the same if he really wanted to."

"Could he have done it while the man was being guarded by Captain America when he was assassinated?" Mr. Man chuckles.

"...Not really sure, but that does sound like some next level shit he wouldn't touch."

"Exactly."

>(2/2)

A hum rumbles in your throat. "So what happened?"

"X-23 was captured or likely feigned capture as she was trained, taken to a SHIELD safe-house in New York City to be interrogated, and escaped after wounding several guards as well as quite possibly crippling Captain America."

"I really doubt she pulled off that last one."

"Oh, she did. Medical reports we received gave a rather vivid description of the stab wound that punctured his liver. Another severed his right Achilles tendon."

Ki-something scoffs. "The animal's trying to fight her own nature leaving those people alive. Leaving surviving enemies, especially ones with superpowers, is an incredibly stupid move anyone can make. X's pathetic heart is already bleeding and I haven't even laid a finger on her yet."

You raise an eyebrow as you put a hand underneath your chin.

If SHIELD is involved and they have agents in it, you can use them to your advantage beyond their expertise in 'enhancements.' There could be agents scrubbing through the city looking for her that could stumble on to your operation too. Might be best to get the girl back into these people's custody to reap the benefits. X-23's shit might be yours to clean up if she runs rampant in your city without any supervision.

>[ ] "She's a mutant, right? Aren't the X-men going to be looking for her too besides you guys and SHIELD? I mean, it did happen on their side of the state."
>[ ] "How about we make this a competition? Let's see who can find Laura first in this city. Fuck it, let's see who brings her or parts of her in."
>[ ] "...I'm in. Do you have something I can track her by or do you somehow expect me to bump into this chick by chance?"
>[ ] "Both of you have five minutes to get the hell off my property before I paint this office red with your insides."
>[ ] "Before we move on, just who the fuck are you people?"
>[ ] "Just what was she doing near the border anyway?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3884650
[ ] "She's a mutant, right? Aren't the X-men going to be looking for her too besides you guys and SHIELD? I mean, it did happen on their side of the state."

Voting closed; writing now.

>[X] "She's a mutant, right? Aren't the X-men going to be looking for her too besides you guys and SHIELD? I mean, it did happen on their side of the state."

The mutant school didn't want you for certain complex reasons at first, but the Wolverine is probably looking forward to stuffing your ass in school cell now. He might want to do the same to his weird deadly female clone, which you feel like X-23 is for some reason. Mad girl fucking killed a presidential candidate for fuck's sake: she belongs in mutant juvie as much as you do. You doubt the X-men are going to let something like this slide with all the shit that went down with them at the beginning of the year.

"She's a mutant, right? Aren't the X-men going to be looking for her too besides you guys and SHIELD? I mean, it did happen on their side of the state."

"Most likely, yes. They're probably looking for her now."

Clucking your tongue, you lean back in your seat again. "Fucking hell, it's one big race all for a single teenage mutant girl."

"Her conception cost us billions. She's also the picture perfect example of a functioning clone, albeit more clone offspring than a proper clone. And that's ignoring her psychological conditioning, mutations, enhancements, training, education, and combat experience."

"...Clone offspring?" You blink and sigh. "She's Wolverine's female clone baby, isn't she?"

The man blinks back at you. "Yes, how did you know?"

"Because of fucking course she'd be, and the claw marks I made that matched hers reminded me of that jackass."

"Met the big Project X, huh?" Kimor or Kim chimes in before she narrows her eyes at you. "...Wait, how did you know X was a mutant?"

You roll your eyes. "Because her designation had X in it and your organization apparently has experience with mutant genetics. Not hard to put two and two together."

Really, the moment you laid eyes on her is when you knew what she was and felt some idea of who. It would've taken you three seconds to figure it out without your otherworldly alien knowledge. You can't help but feel a palpable sense of dread about this entire thing.

>[ ] "...I'm in. Do you have something I can track her by or do you somehow expect me to bump into this chick by chance?"
>[ ] "Both of you have five minutes to get the hell off my property before I paint this office red with your insides."
>[ ] "Before I make a decision about anything, just who the fuck are you people?"
>[ ] "Just what was she doing near the border anyway?"
>[ ] Write In.

>>3885069
>[ ] "Before I make a decision about anything, just who the fuck are you people?"
We haven't actually gotten a name yet.