Become Kingpin and build a hero mercenary company.

Training Ground One was filled with an atmosphere comparable to a college entrance exam. Dozens of mutant students stood in rows, facing various sophisticated instruments and targets. Proctors were Cyclops Scott Summers and Storm Ororo Monroe, both dressed in sharp association uniforms and with serious expressions.

“Next, Bobby Drake.” Scott held up the tablet, his voice flat. “Test item: Precise control of cryogenic field. Objective: Within thirty seconds, reduce the temperature of ten targets in front to minus ten degrees Celsius, with an error not exceeding plus or minus 0.5 degrees Celsius. Begin.”

Bobby took a deep breath, rubbed his hands together, and released a surge of cold air. The first five targets frosted successfully, and the temperature readings were accurate. With the sixth, he became a little anxious; the temperature plummeted to minus twenty degrees Celsius, triggering a warning from the instrument. The seventh… he sneezed, and the cold air spiraled out of control, freezing the entire target and its base into a large block of ice.

[Test failed. Accuracy score: 65. Stability score: 40. Overall rating: C-. Points deducted: 10.] A cold system notification sounded on the Bobby watch.

Bobby: "..." His potato chip dream was shattered.

Ororo walked over, looked at the large ice block, and shook her head helplessly: "Bobby, control, the key is control. You are very capable, but such inconsistent performance will kill your teammates in actual combat. You will have two extra hours of 'micro-management' training this afternoon."

Not far away, Kitty Pride, the "Phantom Cat" who can pass through matter, is facing her nightmare—the "Matter Density Adaptability Test." She needs to continuously penetrate obstacles of varying densities while maintaining the stability of her atomic structure. During one attempt to pass through a specially designed alloy plate, she got stuck halfway because she was thinking about her pizza for lunch. Her upper body was on one side, her lower body on the other, and she was so embarrassed she wanted to disappear on the spot.

[Test interrupted. Focus score: 30. Overall rating: D. Points deducted: 15.] The watch mercilessly pronounced its verdict.

Katie was on the verge of tears: "I just... was thinking about cheese pulls..."

Scott noted with a blank expression: "Lack of concentration, add an hour of 'anti-interference meditation'."

This is just morning exercise. The real "KPI hell" lies in daily tasks and team collaboration assessments.

The Association's mission system offers mutant students the lowest levels of "Community Service" and "Internal Assistance" missions. For example:

Task Number: C-0073

Content: Assist the logistics department in moving non-precision instruments and equipment (direct transportation by means of force is prohibited; manual handling or the use of designated tools is required).

Requirements: No damage, completed on time.

Bonus points: 5 points/hour.

Note: If equipment is damaged due to loss of control, compensation will be made at cost (deducted from points or future salary).

Colossus Piot Nikolaevich accepted the task, confidently transforming into his Iron Man form, ready to make a big splash. Then... while moving a seemingly flimsy cabinet, he used a little force and crushed the cabinet door into a metal sheet.

[Mission failed. Public property damaged, points deducted: 50.] Watch notification.

Piot looked at his large, gleaming silver hands and fell into deep thought. It turned out that too much strength could also be a problem.

Teamwork training was fraught with unexpected situations. One simulated hostage rescue exercise, commanded by Scott, included Katie (Penetration), Bobby (Ice Control), and a new student named "Shining" who could emit bright light and sound waves.

The plan was for Katie to walk through the wall, Bobby to freeze the guards, Shining to create chaos, and Scott to deliver the precise strike. However, Katie was distracted by the decorative paintings inside the wall and glanced at them a couple of times; Bobby accidentally froze the legs of the "hostage" (a highly trained training dummy) while freezing the guards; and Shining, due to excessive tension, turned the sonic power up too high, shattering all the glass in the simulated building and nearly blinding Scott.

Exercise rating: F. 20 points deducted from all participants. Scott received an additional 10 points deducted for poor command and coordination.

"I'm so unlucky to be teamed up with a bunch of idiots like you!" Scott took off his red quartz glasses, rubbed his aching eyes, and growled into the communicator (he maintained the last shred of senior student demeanor and didn't resort to insults).

Bobby retorted in a low voice, "Who knew that the hostage mannequin would be standing so close to the guards..."

Katie said, feeling wronged, "That painting is really beautiful..."

Shining was almost in tears: "I...I didn't mean to..."

Professor Charles, observing the disaster from his office through telepathy, couldn't help but sigh and rub his forehead. He could sense the frustration, resentment, and mutual blame among the young people. But at the same time, he also felt that under this almost cruel quantitative assessment and team pressure, these children were being forced to grow up quickly, beginning to truly think about how to relate to their own abilities and how to get along with their peers.

At lunchtime, the atmosphere in the cafeteria was noticeably somber. Students looked at their wristwatches, displaying either positive or negative scores, and sighed in despair.

“My points are almost negative…” Bobby poked at the nutritional meal on his plate (a special supply from the association, supposedly to optimize energy metabolism, but the taste was indescribable), “I can’t live like this anymore.”

“Be content,” Katie said listlessly. “I heard that ‘Taste Magician’ was punished for playing a prank yesterday and had to clean the sewer filters for a whole month. Zero points, pure voluntary work.”

Piotr said in a muffled voice, "At least you don't owe any debts..."

Just then, Peter Parker, carrying a tray, came over to their table with a grin: "Hey kids, you look a little down, don't you?"

Bobby rolled his eyes at him, annoyed. "Spider-Man, are you here to laugh at me?"

“No way!” Peter plopped down and lowered his voice. “I’m here to share my ‘workplace’ survival experience! Back when I first entered the industry… oh no, when I first joined the association, I was also tormented to the point of ecstasy by KPIs.”

He looked around mysteriously and said, "Let me tell you a secret: First, don't make mistakes. It's better to be slow and steady, losing points is easy, gaining points is hard! Second, stick close to the big shots! Like Brother Sandman, follow him on defense missions, it's stable and safe, and you get high scores! Third, and most importantly—"

Several students pricked up their ears.

Peter said solemnly, "Don't upset the boss!" He pointed to himself, "See this? This new suit of mine is because I did well on the last mission, and the boss was so happy that he approved the equipment department's upgrade budget! If you anger him..." He made a throat-slitting gesture and pointed to the globe in the distance that was still missing a piece (Kingpin kept it in his office as a souvenir).

The students looked at the globe and all shuddered.

In the afternoon, the "Center for the Study of Strange Phenomena" welcomed several special "volunteers." Under the "friendly" invitation of Banner and Otto (and the lure of points rewards), several students with relatively stable abilities and research value nervously lay down on various analytical instruments.

“Relax, ‘Rainbow Mood’,” Banner said gently to the boy who could materialize emotions. “We just want to record your energy spectrum when you’re happy.”

The boy forced a smile, his body radiating a soft pink glow.

Otto's mechanical tentacles rapidly recorded data, muttering, "Hmm... the activity of happy emotion energy particles increased by 15%, and the structural stability is better than in the sad state... Interesting."

Another girl, who can locally alter her own density, was asked to maintain her morphological stability in various energy fields to provide data for "energy resistance" research.

Although the process was somewhat tough, these "volunteers" gritted their teeth and persevered as they watched their points steadily increase on their wristwatches. After all, points could not only be exchanged for snacks, but also for better training resources and even the opportunity to customize equipment!

Jin also monitored everything happening in the education and research areas. The system interface updated each student's data stream in real time: ability fluctuation curves, task completion rates, point changes, and even a rough assessment of their emotional state (through physiological indicator analysis).

[New member unit adaptation period data analysis: Overall capability control accuracy improved by 7.8%. Violation rate decreased by 12.5%. Internal conflict frequency decreased by 9.2%. Resource consumption rate... increased by 18.3% (mainly due to training losses and research consumption).] The system provides cold, hard statistical reports.

"Initial results are evident," Kingpin commented in a low voice. This management style, which combines pressure, incentives, and clear rules, is simple and direct, but it has proven surprisingly effective for these young mutants who need guidance and discipline.

Of course, the trouble was far from over. He knew that the unfathomable power within Jean Grey remained the biggest variable. And then there was that "photocopier" kid who always used his abilities to copy the teacher's blackboard writing in class and then sold it… These all required more "personalized" management solutions.

“The establishment of order is always accompanied by noise and chaos.” He turned off the monitor and picked up Otto’s exorbitant budget request again. “But as long as the direction is right, the process… is tolerable.”

After all, being able to force a group of unruly superpowered kids to start studying the "Association Member Code of Conduct" and the "Points Redemption Guide" was already a remarkable achievement in itself. As for the nicknames they gave Kingpin in private, such as "Points Tyrant" and "Rule Incarnation"... he didn't care.

If it works, that's fine.

Chapter 110: The Eye of the Nine Realms and Strange Movements in the Mortal World

Asgard, the guardian of the Rainbow Bridge. Heimdall, the guardian god who possesses the eyes and ears to see and hear the nine realms, stands like an unchanging statue at the control center of the Rainbow Bridge. In his golden eyes, the boundless starry sea and all living beings of the nine realms are reflected. Countless sounds and images flood into his senses like a torrent, only to be sorted and filtered by his powerful will.

However, recently, his gaze has increasingly turned to the Midgard world he calls "Midgard," especially the mortal city called New York.

Initially, what caught his attention was the brief yet exceptionally powerful mental fluctuation that erupted during the Dragon-level calamity—the power belonging to Charles Xavier. That power was pure and vast, enough to penetrate the astral plane, arousing Heimdall's vigilance. But what concerned him even more was the more subtle yet profound "rule shift" that followed on that land.

At this moment, his golden pupils narrowed slightly, focusing on the skyscraper housing the Hero Association headquarters. In his vision, the building wasn't simply a steel and concrete structure; its interior flowed with a strange, incomprehensible light, somewhere between energy and information, as if the entire building was being slowly "compiled" by some higher-level being. What chilled him even more was the mortal leader named Wilson Fisk (Kingpin)...

It wasn't that some force was obscuring Kingpin's existence; rather, Kingpin's very being presented a highly contradictory state in Heimdall's perception—he was both a solid material entity and seemingly deeply bound to some cold, inanimate "rules." Especially when Kingpin occasionally used his abilities called "microscopic matter manipulation" and "order field," Heimdall could even "see" subtle shifts in the physical constants within a tiny radius around him, shifts that defied the laws of the Nine Realms! This was no ordinary magic or divine power; it was more like a... direct alteration of the world's underlying code.

“Heimdall,” a gentle yet authoritative voice sounded behind him. Odin, the king of the gods, his single eye gleaming with wisdom and the weariness of time, walked slowly, Gungnir, the spear of eternity, in hand. “You gaze upon Midgard longer than ever before. What is it about that mortal land that has drawn the gaze of the guardian of the Nine Realms?”

Heimdall bowed slightly, his voice ringing like metal: "Odin, Father. Midgard has indeed seen... an anomaly. An organization called the 'Heroes' Association' is rising, and its leader, Wilson Fisk, possesses a power I cannot comprehend. It is neither divine power nor magic, but rather... a direct touch upon the 'weaving' of the world itself."

He briefly reported to Odin what he had observed—the unusual energy flow at the Association headquarters, the rule disturbances caused by Kingpin erasing matter and deploying force fields, and the recent large-scale gathering of young lives known as “mutants” with strange powers in their blood.

Odin narrowed his single eye, and the Spear of Eternity gently struck the ground. “Directly touching the ‘weaving’… even the gods of Asgard need runes or artifacts to indirectly influence it. A mortal…” He pondered for a moment, “and those with abnormal bloodlines… it seems that Midgard is undergoing a transformation we have not anticipated.”

"Should I increase my surveillance of Midgard? Or..." Heimdall inquired.

Odin shook his head, his gaze deep. "No need for excessive intervention. The fate of Midgard should ultimately be written by its own inhabitants. As long as they don't try to extend their reach to other realms or disrupt the balance of the Nine Realms, Asgard will observe quietly. After all..." He paused, a hint of weariness in his voice, "...we've never been without our own troubles. Continue to observe, Heimdall, record all anomalies. Especially that Fisk... I'm very curious, just how far can a mortal go on this path that touches the rules?"

“As you command.” Heimdall accepted the order and turned his gaze back to the distant Earth. This time, however, his observation was more focused, especially on Kingpin and the increasingly “abnormal” headquarters of the Association.

Meanwhile, deep within the palaces of Asgard, another pair of eyes were also observing the changes in Midgard through different means.

Loki, the god of mischief, leaned lazily against a soft couch in his bedchamber, toying with a crystal ball that emitted a ghostly glow. Floating within the ball was a blurry image of the Hero Association headquarters—fragments he had painstakingly gathered using illusion and voyeurism magic, bypassing Heimdall's direct observation.

He saw Sandman manipulate sand as if it were his own arm, Electro transform into an energy life form, Spider-Man move nimbly between walls, and he also witnessed the bizarre abilities displayed by the mutant students.

“Interesting…” Loki’s lips curled into a playful smile, his green eyes gleaming with calculation. “When did the ants of Midgard become so… creative? Especially that big leader, he seems to have mastered some little tricks that even I haven’t fully understood.”

He was particularly interested in Kingpin's ability to erase matter out of thin air. This was different from the illusions and magic he was good at; it was more like a kind of "negation," a manifestation of power.

“A mortal with such a… unique ‘talent’ could, with a little ‘guidance’,” Loki murmured to himself, his smile growing deeper, “bring some unexpected amusement to his muscle-bound brother or to this boring Asgard.”

He began to devise some harmless (in his view) "pranks" in his mind, such as secretly sending some "small gifts" to the association headquarters, or disguising himself as a down-on-his-luck god to "apply for a job" and observe the interesting Kingpin and his "Toy Association" up close.

Of course, all of this had to be kept hidden from Heimdall and his beloved father. Loki licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with eager anticipation. Providing some amusement for the (relatively) peaceful Midgard, and incidentally uncovering the secrets of that strange power, was the perfect pastime for his otherwise boring days.

Kingpin, however, was not entirely unaware of this at the top of the association's headquarters. He didn't have Heimdall's all-seeing eye, nor Loki's spying magic, but he possessed a system.

[Warning: High-dimensional observation behavior detected. Source analysis: Suspected Asgard (ASG-01). Observation intensity: Continuous, low intensity.]

[WARNING: Unauthorized information snooping attempt detected. Source: Unknown magical fluctuations, highly stealthy. Threat level: Low.]

The system's cold notification popped up quietly while he was handling his daily tasks.

Kingpin lifted his gaze from a test report on the new energy shield, looked out the window at the azure sky, and narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Asgard...the gaze of the gods, huh?" he muttered to himself, not particularly surprised. The rise of the association and the abnormality of his own power were bound to attract the attention of higher-level beings.

"Maintain monitoring. Record all abnormal observations and spying data. Do not take countermeasures against non-direct hostile actions for the time being," he instructed the system.

[Command confirmed. Monitoring program running continuously. Database updating.]

Kingpin lowered his head again and continued reviewing the documents. The attention from Asgard, the watchful eye of the God of Mischief—these were all expected, even proof of the Association's expanding influence. He wasn't afraid; instead, he saw them as a spur.

His order will eventually extend beyond this planet. But before that, he needs to ensure that the Association possesses sufficient power to calmly face the gazes from any dimension, any divine realm, and even... one day, be able to engage in equal dialogue with them, or make them also obliged to abide by his "order."

The road ahead is still long, but the direction is already clear.

Chapter 111: Visitors from the Celestial Palace and the Association's "Hardcore" Hospitality

An uninvited guest arrived at the spotless reception hall on the first floor of the headquarters. He wore a slightly worn but well-tailored dark green robe, his long golden hair was meticulously combed, and his handsome face carried an inescapable air of a fallen aristocrat, as if he had just been kicked out of his home. In his hand, he held a scroll that looked like parchment, and his eyes held a perfect blend of anxiety, pride, and a hint of barely perceptible cunning.

"Good day," he said, flashing a melancholic smile that could make any young girl (and some young boys)'s heart race. "I've heard that your esteemed association welcomes talented individuals from all walks of life. I am Loki Laufeson, from... a distant and now rather unfriendly land. I am proficient in illusion, magic, strategic planning, and various Asgardian... uh, ancient and lost knowledge. I have come to offer my services, hoping to contribute my modest efforts to maintaining order in this world."

The receptionist, pausing for a moment at this "classical beauty" whose appearance clearly clashed with the surrounding high-tech environment, quickly adopted a standard smile, her professionalism kicking in: "Hello, Mr. Loki. Do you have an appointment? Or could you provide some... um, proof of ability or identification documents?"

"An appointment? Oh, fateful encounters often don't require an appointment, my dear lady." Loki nodded slightly, his posture elegant. "As for proof of ability..." He snapped his fingers crisply.

In an instant, the entire reception hall transformed. The cold metal walls became the stone walls of an ancient castle covered in vines, the smooth floor became moss-covered flagstones, and the air was filled with the faint scent of flowers and the aroma of old books. Even the receptionist's business suit transformed into a gorgeous medieval maid's gown.

"Wow!" the young woman exclaimed, looking at her dress and the suddenly changed environment around her, almost thinking she had traveled through time.

The illusion lasted only three seconds before vanishing like a bubble, and everything returned to normal. Loki remained standing there, his smile unchanged: "A mere trick, nothing to boast about. I wonder if this 'resume' will earn me an interview?"

The young woman was still shaken, her eyes filled with suspicion and uncertainty as she looked at Loki. However, she quickly entered the information into the internal system and reported the situation according to the emergency procedure.

The news quickly reached James Wesley. Wesley frowned as he looked at the man claiming to be "Loki Laufeyson" in the surveillance footage and at the illusion that instantly altered the environment. He checked the database of all known superhumans, but found no match. The name "Loki" did appear in some obscure parts of Norse mythology…

“Take him to meeting room number three,” Wesley ordered. “Notify security to be on high alert and prepare non-lethal weapons. Also… notify the chairman.”

Inside meeting room number three, Loki leisurely sipped the coffee provided by the association (he commented, "The taste is rough, but the energizing effect is acceptable"), as if he were truly there for a job interview. When Kingpin's mountain-like figure appeared at the door, Loki put down his coffee cup, stood up, and performed an impeccable, ancient-sounding bow.

“You must be Chairman Fisk,” Loki said with just the right amount of respect. “I have long admired your name. I am Loki, a homeless wanderer who has come to seek refuge with the Association out of respect for its prestige.”

Kingpin's gaze calmly swept over Loki, and the system interface automatically popped up in the corner of his field of vision:

[Target Analysis: Life Form - Divine Being (energy responses partially match Asgardian observation data). Ability Assessment: High Threat (illusionary magic, superhuman physical abilities). Mental State: Highly disguised, intentions unclear. Related Information: Highly associated with ASG-01 (Asgard), suspected to be a key member. Recommendation: High alert; containment or expulsion recommended.]

“Loki Laufeson,” Kingpin’s voice was deep and unreadable, “the Asgardian god of mischief, Odin’s adopted son. What wind has blown you, this ‘homeless wanderer,’ to my little society?”

Loki's smile froze for a moment, clearly not expecting Kingpin to so directly expose his background. But he reacted quickly, immediately adopting a more melancholic, even slightly resentful, expression: "It seems the Master is well-informed. In that case, I will no longer hide anything. Yes, I come from Asgard. But there... is no longer a place for me there. My brother, Thor, whose mind is filled only with muscles and hammers, the favored son of Odin... (He revealed a perfectly timed hint of pain) I yearn for a new beginning, a place where I can truly unleash my talents. And the Guild, in my view, possesses just that potential."

He stepped forward, his tone becoming highly inflammatory: "Think about it, Chairman. You possess formidable military strength and an efficient organization, but when faced with threats from the Nine Realms and even the wider universe, do you sometimes feel... outdated information? Limited strategies? My wisdom, my magic, my understanding of the many laws of the world—these are precisely what the Association currently lacks! I can be your advisor, your diplomat, your blade in the shadows!"

Kingpin simply watched his performance quietly, and only spoke slowly after he finished speaking: "Your abilities may be useful. But your reputation is poor."

“History is written by the victors, Master!” Loki retorted. “Most of those ‘prank’ stories about me are slanders by my opponents! I admit, I may… have an unconventional style, but my goal has always been clear! The ambitions that cannot be realized in Asgard, I hope to find fertile ground for realization in the Association, under your leadership!”

Just then, the door to the meeting room was pushed open, and Spider-Man Peter Parker peeked in: "Hey boss, Mr. Wesley said some illusionist is trying to scam us... uh?" He saw Loki, who was also curiously looking at his red and blue bodysuit.

“And this is…” Loki raised an eyebrow.

“An employee of the association, Spider-Man,” Kingpin said calmly.

"An interesting outfit," Loki commented, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.

As if to prove his worth, or simply to tease this new, seemingly interesting "colleague," Loki's fingers twitched almost imperceptibly.

Peter suddenly felt his foot slip, as if he had stepped on a banana peel (even though the ground was spotless), and he fell forward in an extremely comical manner, about to fall face-first into the mud.

Just as he was about to land face down, an invisible force lifted him up, allowing him to regain his footing with great difficulty.

Peter, still shaken, patted his chest and said, "What happened? Why is the ground so slippery..."

Loki looked at him innocently, as if it had nothing to do with him.

Kingpin's gaze turned colder. He clearly "saw" that, with the system's aid in microscopic perception, the molecular structure of the air beneath Peter's feet had been briefly and subtly altered, creating physical properties similar to ice.

“To tamper with my people in my own territory.” Kingpin’s voice wasn’t loud, but it made the temperature in the entire meeting room seem to drop several degrees. “This is not the sincerity that someone seeking a ‘new beginning’ should have.”

Loki's heart skipped a beat, and he almost couldn't maintain his melancholy and dejected expression. He hadn't expected Kingpin's senses to be so sharp.

“Just a small… test, nothing more, Master.” Loki chuckled dryly, trying to salvage the situation. “Just to prove that my abilities are indeed useful, even in the smallest details.”

“I’ve seen your abilities,” Kingpin interrupted him, “but your motives remain questionable. The Association doesn’t lack power, but it lacks absolute control and loyalty.”