Daken Akihiro returned to New York because he heard that the current leader of the Hand had arrived in the city.
In his life, he had three enemies: the father who abandoned his mother, Logan the Wolverine; the Hydra assassin who killed his mother, the Winter Soldier; and finally, the Hand—the ones who cut him from his mother's womb before he was even full-term, hoping to turn him into one of their killers.
And now, it was time to make them pay some interest.
He caught the nauseating scent of the Hand's undead ninjas and stealthily infiltrated their ranks. After killing a few low-level Genin, he slipped into their stronghold. Almost as soon as his feet touched the floor, Daken sensed something unusual and immediately leaped backward, narrowly evading the strike of a female assassin clad in red.
Then, Daken felt a slight sting in his mind. He let out a soft chuckle.
"Since when did you rats start keeping telepaths among you?"
Finally, all noise settled for a moment.
"There is much you do not know, Akihiro. That name is interesting—at least it sounds much better than 'Daken'."
The speaker was Japanese, and he spoke in his native tongue. Daken understood exactly what the word meant. Others might think "Daken" was just part of his name, but a Japanese person knew better. In Japanese, that word represented his true meaning: "mongrel."
That was the very name he had been given years ago while within the Hand.
Daken narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath, looking toward the direction of the voice. As candles were lit, dim light filled the spacious, Japanese-style room. The man, the leader of the Hand, sat upon his seat. Surrounding him were four individuals—one man and three women—none of whom were Hand assassins Daken recognized.
However, the leader was an exception.
"I see you've found yourself quite a few new curs, Tomi Shishido," Daken sneered.
The man sitting above him was Tomi Shishido, a mutant and the Jonin leader of the Hand. He wore a white Japanese kimono and had his eyes covered with a red cloth. Those eyes were the source of his mutant power; he could petrify others with a gaze, much like the Gorgon of myth. It was for this reason he took the codename "Gorgon."
Gorgon had no intention of entertaining Daken's nonsense. He knew perfectly well that Daken had returned for revenge. He simply stood up and issued orders to his subordinates: "Elektra, Lady Bullseye, keep Daken busy for a moment. Typhoid Mary, use your telepathy to interfere with him—though it likely won't do much."
Finally, Gorgon looked at the man who had remained silent, clad in white samurai armor.
"Silver Samurai, finish him. I want to see if he can still heal without his head."
Daken let out a cold laugh. He didn't care what new lackeys the Hand had recruited. He charged forward, engaging the two female ninjas. As for the telepath? Telepathy of that level couldn't stir up a single ripple in his mind.
Thanks to his long years of assassin training, Daken quickly parried the attacks of the two kunoichi, but his attention remained fixed on Gorgon in the distance.
Unable to control his power, Gorgon kept his eyes covered year-round, making him little different from a blind man. Consequently, Gorgon's hearing was incredibly sharp, and he was a master of ninjutsu and dueling. He possessed physical prowess equal to Daken's own, making him the only opponent in this line of work that Daken truly feared.
As for the samurai whose opening move was so broad and sweeping that his own teammates scrambled out of the way? Daken wondered if Gorgon had lost his mind, recruiting a samurai into a ninja organization.
Daken smiled, meeting the opponent's katana with his own bone claws. He could already envision the scene: the look of shock on the man's face as his katana was severed, followed by his head being lopped off.
In the next instant—clink.
Daken saw it. In the reflection of the opponent's eyes, he saw his own expression of shock as his claws were sliced clean through. Then, he felt a sudden sense of vertigo, the world spinning wildly.
Oh. My head is flying.
The son of Wolverine, Daken Akihiro, was decapitated in a single strike by the Silver Samurai.
This was the Silver Samurai's ability: he could generate a special energy field and attach it to his weapon. This field could disrupt molecular bonds, resulting in an all-severing effect. Whether it was Adamantium claws or Captain America's shield, as long as it wasn't bolstered by magic, any solid substance would be sliced through in a single blow.
"You have done well, Silver Samurai. You have proven your worth. In the coming battle against the Wolf Samurai, your strength will be necessary."
Gorgon strode forward and picked up Daken's head. Even with only a head remaining, the man still had a faint breath, though his consciousness was fading.
At that moment, the Silver Samurai voiced his doubt.
"Expanding this quickly... won't it alert the Avengers?"
"There is no need for concern. The Avengers are busy saving the world. With the Wild Hunt about to invade this realm, Hydra only needs to create a little chaos, and they will go running off to play hero. We will take this time to expand bit by bit, swallowing our enemies—the Defenders, the Chaste—one bite at a time. Every dead enemy is a victory for us."
By the time the Avengers realized their home base in New York was spinning out of control, it would be far too late. The shadow of the Beast would already cover the entire city.
As for the Hand members who died? To be blunt, as long as the five people in this room remained alive, it didn't matter how many foot soldiers were lost.
Finally, the Silver Samurai asked about the only variable.
"What about Spider-Man? He's an Avenger, but he's the one who meddles in New York's business."
Gorgon paused, giving no answer.
Rikers Island Prison.
After listening to the report from his subordinate, Aaron Davis—the Prowler—Kingpin frowned. The expansion of this suddenly rising Hand was getting faster and faster, and they were on the verge of controlling all of Hell's Kitchen.
And those heroes... they didn't realize just how critical the situation had become.
"Contact a lawyer for me. I want a private meeting. No, not a lawyer from Fisk Industries. Contact Matt Murdock."
"It's time to ally with an old enemy."
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