Alex calmly raised his hand. A shadow barrier formed instantly—thick and dense, a gift from Cypher's new powers. The bullets hit it and simply vanished, disintegrated on contact.
"Nice gift," Alex muttered, glancing at her with a smirk.
"Consider it a loan," Cypher replied with a small grin. "I'll collect interest in…" She paused, her eyes drifting toward the thing between his legs. "Finally, with this body, I can experience it too," she said.
Alex sighed. Being handsome is a sin, he thought smugly, then forced himself to refocus on the mission at hand.
They moved forward, unstoppable.
Turrets were torn apart by Cypher's abyss-born tendrils.
Elite guards tried to ambush them—but it was useless. Alex disarmed and knocked out several with precise blows, while the others were dragged screaming into Cypher's shifting shadow.
It was over in minutes.
By the time they stood in front of the final double doors—the massive, reinforced entrance to Kingpin's private office—the 62nd floor was silent.
Alex placed a palm on the thick steel surface. He could feel it—the deep vibration of heavy footsteps behind the door. Wilson Fisk was waiting.
"Time to meet the boss," Alex said.
Cypher stood beside him, arms crossed, her red eyes glowing. "Let's see if he still thinks he runs this city."
Alex's demonic energy pulsed outward.
BOOM.
The doors burst open, blown off their hinges by a concentrated wave of energy.
Inside stood Wilson Fisk, now wearing a reinforced exo-armor suit built to boost his already monstrous strength. The suit was matte black and white with armored gauntlets, shoulder braces, and a power core humming on his back. He looked like a walking tank.
His expression was pure hatred.
"You've come into my tower. You've killed my men. You think you can walk out of here alive?" Fisk's voice echoed like a threat of war.
Alex stepped forward slowly, his blade—Silver Devil—resting on his shoulder, glowing with a dull, purple-black hue of demonic energy.
"I don't think, Fisk," Alex said coldly. "I know."
Hearing him, Fisk slammed his leg on the floor
The office shook. Windows vibrated.
The air inside the office was thick with tension. The shattered doors still hissed sparks, and Kingpin's breathing filled the massive room like a furnace.
He stomped once more, the steel floor beneath his armored boots denting with a boom. His suit whirred and powered up, steam releasing from the shoulders.
Cypher began to step forward, eyes glowing and hands already summoning tendrils from the abyss.
But Alex raised a hand without looking back.
"Don't," he said flatly. "This one's mine."
Cypher paused.
She studied his posture—calm, firm, unshaken. Then she nodded once and took a step back, her shadows retreating behind her like obedient wolves.
"Try not to die," she said with a smirk, folding her arms.
Alex rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath.
Then he tossed his sword to the side with a loud clang, letting it bury itself in the office floor.
Fisk grunted. "You think you can take me with your bare hands?"
Alex smiled faintly, flexing his fingers.
"I don't need weapons for trash."
"Besides I want to see how much I have grown"
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and his body shifted—Chi and Demonic Mana surged through his veins like lightning and magma fused together. Veins lit up faintly across his arms, his chest, even up to his neck. A faint reddish-black aura wrapped around him like heat waves off a volcano.
"Let's see what happens when the devil meets a brute."
Then he launched forward.
The clash shook the floor.
Fisk threw the first punch—wide, raw power backed by armor.
Alex ducked, stepped in, and struck Fisk's ribs with a Chi-infused elbow. Crack. Armor dented.
Fisk roared and swung his arm like a battering ram. It smashed into a nearby support beam when Alex flipped over it and delivered a kick to Fisk's back, sending sparks off the exo-suit.
"Not bad for a walking fridge," Alex muttered.
Fisk turned, grabbed a desk, and hurled it like a missile. Alex punched straight through it, splinters flying everywhere.
Then he charged.
The two collided again in the center of the room—Fisk throwing hammer-like punches, Alex weaving and striking with surgical precision. Every blow from Alex glowed with demonic pressure and Chi focus, aiming for joints, weak points, armor gaps.
Alex ducked under another wild swing, then drove a Chi-powered uppercut into Fisk's jaw.
BOOM.
Fisk stumbled backward, blood spilling from his nose. "You....what are you?."
Alex cracked his neck. "Just your Reaper."
Fisk growled and activated a shockwave burst from his suit, slamming both fists into the floor.
The blast blew apart furniture and cracked tiles, but Alex slid back, untouched—knees bent, arms raised in a calm stance.
"I gave to chance to walk away," Alex said as he walked forward, fists glowing with layered demonic energy. "But now I've got no time for mercy."
He sprinted, dodged another blow, spun low—and punched straight into Fisk's abdomen, the blow bursting with a double impact of Chi and demonic compression.
Fisk let out a guttural gasp, stumbling backward into his desk. The reinforced metal crumpled behind him.
Alex didn't stop.
He leapt and brought his knee up into Fisk's chest, then used both fists in a downward slam—breaking through the exo-suit chest plate with a resounding crack.
Fisk fell to one knee.
Chest heaving. Bloody. Dented. Struggling to stand.
Alex looked down at him coldly.
"This was never your city," he said. "It just tolerated you—until now."
Fisk tried one last punch.
Alex caught it.
And with a calm, brutal motion, he twisted Fisk's arm, pulled him forward, and slammed a Chi-coated punch into his face.
CRACK.
The massive man hit the floor.
Out cold.
Alex stood over him, breathing steadily, his aura slowly fading.
Behind him, Cypher clapped softly. "Well," she said. "That was fun to watch."
Alex walked back to his blade and pulled it from the floor.
"Let's go," he said. "Now, no one will disturb us."
She nodded, shadows wrapping around them like a cloak.
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