Kingpin froze for a split second but then, his expression twisted into a menacing grin.
"Well now," he muttered darkly, "this is getting interesting."
There wasn't a trace of fear in his eyes only a hunger to kill.
That look, Nolan had seen before.
It was the same look he'd once seen in the Hulk's eyes.
But unlike the Hulk, who was driven purely by rage and instinct, Kingpin's killing intent came from cold, terrifying rationality.
No wonder he'd managed to build an empire from the ground up.
But in the end, it didn't matter.
The instant their gazes met, both men exploded into motion.
Mud and debris burst under Nolan's feet as he charged forward, cutting through the rain like a missile.
The wet ground meant nothing to him the Thunder Hammer armor's stabilizers kept him balanced and fast.
In a heartbeat, he was already in Kingpin's face.
Kingpin was a split second slower, but his grin only widened.
He swung a massive fist toward Nolan, and at the same time, raised his left hand holding his cane.
That cane wasn't just for show. It was his deadliest weapon, one that had hidden a compact laser emitter inside.
His plan was simple: once their fists collided, he'd unleash the laser at point-blank range and blow Nolan Lock apart.
But Nolan already knew.
Behind his visor, Nolan's eyes gleamed with cold amusement.
So, Kingpin really thought he could compare himself to the Hulk.
A foolish thought.
Their fists collided with an explosive crack that shook the entire street.
A deafening boom echoed through the storm as shockwaves rippled out.
Kingpin's scream tore through the chaos.
The power of the collision was immense.
But unlike Nolan, who was shielded by layers of vibranium and reinforced servos, Kingpin was just flesh and bone.
His right arm shattered under the impact, bone splintering like glass.
Agonizing pain ripped through him, too sudden for him to even fire his laser.
Nolan didn't give him a second to recover.
Once the fight had begun, there was no turning back.
He would finish it.
With fluid precision, Nolan lunged forward again.
Frank Castle and the others could only stare, dumbfounded, their hearts pounding as they watched the battle unfold.
This was their boss the man who had once killed the Abomination.
Even Frank, a seasoned soldier who had stared death in the face more times than he could count, felt a shiver crawl down his spine.
He had always believed in his own combat prowess, but watching Nolan fight made him realize a bitter truth:
In front of his boss, he wouldn't last a single move.
It wasn't just about power.
It was about skill.
Nolan fought like a machine every strike was decisive, efficient, and lethal.
Kingpin, battered and bleeding, refused to back down.
But Nolan didn't hesitate.
He spun, gripping his plasma blade, and slashed down with deadly precision.
Kingpin tried to dodge, but Nolan was too fast faster than a man of his size should ever be.
The attack hit before Kingpin could even process what had happened.
His pupils constricted, disbelief flashing in his eyes.
How could Nolan Lock be this powerful?
He had gone into this battle with absolute confidence. He had believed he could lure Nolan out and crush him.
But now, reality shattered that arrogance.
It was too late.
The blade came down, slicing through the air.
Kingpin's vibranium-alloy cane met the plasma edge with a shriek of metal but it wasn't enough.
The weapon that had once symbolized his dominance split apart under the strike.
And then the blade kept going.
It tore straight through his chest.
Kingpin staggered back, staring in disbelief at the smoking wound in his body.
For a brief moment, he didn't feel pain only a hollow, cold realization.
He had prepared this place to be Nolan Lock's grave.
But now, it had become his own.
How ironic.
As the light faded from his eyes, the once-mighty Kingpin crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Kingpin was dead.
The rain poured harder.
Nolan turned slowly, his sensors detecting movement.
A group of surviving ninjas was rushing toward him.
Too weak.
He almost pitied them.
Against the Thunder Hammer armor, their attacks were meaningless just like when Iron Man faced untrained terrorists.
Their weapons sparked uselessly against his armor before the plasma blade cut them down one by one.
Their screams echoed briefly through the storm before silence reclaimed the night.
When the battle finally ended, the battlefield was unrecognizable.
The rain mixed with blood, washing crimson rivers through the craters and debris.
Construction drones hummed quietly in the background, gathering wreckage and hiding all traces of the carnage.
Nolan watched them for a moment.
He couldn't risk anyone discovering this place not the military, not S.H.I.E.L.D., not anyone.
The bodies didn't matter. But the machines they had to vanish.
Kingpin's empire had fallen.
And with it, the underworld of New York was about to erupt into chaos.
Nolan turned his gaze toward Hell's Kitchen, expression unreadable.
The underworld had its own rules rules no one truly understood.
But from tonight onward, those rules would be rewritten.
By him.
The next morning, Nolan woke feeling surprisingly refreshed.
Despite having fought through half the night, his enhanced body only needed a few hours of rest to recover completely.
Predictably, the morning news was already buzzing with vague reports about a "violent incident" in the outskirts of the city.
The details were scarce, deliberately obscured by official pressure.
It didn't matter.
None of it could be traced back to him at least, not directly.
Besides, he had other things to focus on.
After several days of nonstop work, his new Vibranium Thunder Hammer armor was finally complete.
Compared to the previous version, this suit carried a far more advanced mechanical aesthetic sleeker lines, stronger plating, and an energy core that pulsed with restrained power.
Thanks to the vibranium reinforcement, the armor's durability had skyrocketed.
By Nolan's own estimation, even Thor himself would have a hard time breaking through it.
He looked at his reflection in the metallic surface and smiled faintly.
With this new armor, the future suddenly seemed wide open.
Still, there was one thing that nagged at him.
Where the hell was Ivan Vanko?
For weeks, the Russian engineer had vanished without a trace.
That answer came sooner than expected.
Later that day, Justin Hammer sent him an official invitation an announcement for the Hammer Industries Military Expo.
The invitation was extravagant, printed on gold-trimmed paper, boasting of revolutionary new technology.
Nolan raised an eyebrow.
Across town, Tony Stark received the same news.
A public expo meant Hammer Industries had something major to unveil.
Even Nolan, for all his resources, had never hosted a full-scale expo.
And Hammer Industries… well, their reputation was complicated.
They were good at copying.
Imitation had always been their business model.
So what could possibly justify this kind of confidence?
At Hammer Industries headquarters, Justin Hammer could barely contain his excitement.
Before him stood rows of sleek, armed combat drones gleaming like soldiers awaiting orders.
They were Vanko's work.
Ivan Vanko had been given near-total creative control and an enormous budget to bring Hammer's dreams to life.
Hammer's grin was wide and eager.
"So," he said, turning to Vanko, "how do I put this thing on? Is there a suit interface?"
He imagined himself wearing something on par with Tony Stark's Mark-series armor something that would make the world see him as a genius, not just a copycat.
But Vanko only gave him a cold glance and said flatly, "You don't wear it."
Hammer blinked. "What?"
"This isn't a suit," Vanko replied, his accent thick and his tone dismissive. "It's a remotely controlled drone. Making a wearable armor like my Whiplash suit costs too much and can't be mass-produced easily. These, on the other hand these can be."
Hammer's excitement faltered, but when Vanko mentioned drones, his irritation faded.
Remotely operated soldiers just like the military's failed 'F.E.L.' prototypes.
"Fine," Hammer said finally, forcing a smile. "I don't care what they are as long as they make me look good."
Vanko's smirk widened.
"Oh, they will," he said, turning back to the rows of robots. "Once they take the stage, the world will never forget the name Hammer Industries."
He didn't mention the other name hidden deep within his mind the one man he truly wanted to destroy.
Tony Stark.
And soon enough, at the Hammer Expo, all hell would break loose.
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