DC hero at Marvel

Bullseye arrived outside the Daily Bugle building, his face twisted with a malicious grin as he felt the anticipation of releasing the pent-up rage he'd held back for the last two days.

Since that night when Batman knocked him out with a single punch, he'd woken up bound and detained in the police station.

It wasn't just a defeat—it was an utter humiliation.

The Daily Bugle was widely known as Batman's ally, especially with its vice editor and boss, Anton Jameson, who had even made a virtual biographical film about Batman.

Clearly, Anton was Batman's close friend.

If he couldn't find Batman, taking out his close friend would be a reasonable substitute.

Bullseye strode confidently into the building.

What he didn't know was that the moment he arrived, someone had already spotted him.

After learning Bullseye had been released, Anton had instructed security to be vigilant for any suspicious visitors.

Security understood perfectly.

The Daily Bugle, with its history of rubbing people the wrong way, was no stranger to threats.

Though their security measures didn't rival those of Stark Industries or Oscorp, they were still formidable.

Bullseye, with his brazen attitude, wandering around the building, was an obvious target.

Overconfidence was his mistake.

And like Kingpin, he underestimated the Daily Bugle.

Soon enough, Bullseye reached the entrance and spotted his target.

Anton Jameson.

Standing beside him was another man Bullseye recognized: Eddie Brock, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle.

"Bullseye," Anton said with a slight smile. "If we're going to settle this, let's go to the rooftop so we don't scare my employees."

"I'm in a good mood today, so I'll take you up on that," Bullseye sneered, his gaze sharp as a knife. "But you'd better not try any tricks."

"Of course not." Anton shrugged. "I'm just an ordinary man. What tricks could I pull?"

Bullseye brushed off the comment.

In fact, he almost hoped Anton would try something, like calling Batman, so they could face off again.

This time, Bullseye was sure he wouldn't lose.

The three made their way to the rooftop.

Creak!

Bullseye locked the iron door behind them, eyeing Anton and Eddie with lethal intent. "Where's Batman?"

Anton and Eddie exchanged a glance, wordlessly understanding each other.

Following their plan, Eddie stepped forward, positioning himself between Anton and Bullseye.

"I see it!" Venom shouted in Eddie's mind. "This guy's definitely a bad one! I want to eat him!"

The symbiote required a chemical called phenethylamine to stay healthy.

This chemical was abundant in human brains, which was why the symbiote had a preference for eating them.

Eddie had discovered that chocolate also contained a good amount of phenethylamine, making it Venom's primary food source recently.

For Venom, who lacked human morality, chocolate was the main course, and brains could be dessert. However, this "dessert," while plentiful, couldn't be eaten on a whim due to his agreement with Eddie.

Finally, today, the time had come for a taste of dessert.

Venom could barely contain his excitement at the thought of devouring Bullseye's brain.

"Seems there's nothing left to discuss."

Disappointment flashed across Bullseye's face as he revealed a throwing star in his hand, his gaze cold and his smile cruel.

"Once I kill you two, Batman will come straight to me."

Whoosh! Just as Bullseye raised his hand to throw the star, he was shocked to see Eddie morph into a hulking black creature.

The creature had bulging muscles with white markings, sharp fangs, a massive mouth, and huge white eyes—all exuding an aura of danger.

"What?"

Bullseye's eyes widened, feeling a wave of dread. He quickly tried to retreat.

Unsurprisingly, the throwing star had no effect on Venom.

In an instant, Venom leaped forward, closing the distance to Bullseye. His limbs stretched into tendrils, wrapping around Bullseye and pulling him closer, before promptly devouring his head.

This top-tier assassin, a minor yet well-known villain in the Marvel world, was devoured by Venom in moments.

Anton shrugged at the sight. So much for the big threat.

…

Elsewhere.

A private nursing home on the outskirts of New York.

In his one-on-one fight with Kingpin, Matt found himself struggling, feeling the immense pressure of Kingpin's superhuman physique.

While Matt's agility slightly exceeded Kingpin's, Kingpin's extraordinary strength was beyond imagination.

The sheer power reminded Matt of the legendary figures he'd heard about during his grueling training.

Panting heavily, he kept his ears on high alert, tracking Kingpin's every move.

He also sensed that Ben Urich, escorted by High Table assassins, had safely left. It was time for him to retreat as well.

Kingpin was not an opponent to take lightly.

If taking him down were easy, Kingpin wouldn't be the terrifying foe he was.

"Think you're getting away?" Kingpin seethed, far from satisfied.

Whoosh! In an instant, his massive body closed in on Matt, delivering a powerful kick.

Matt used the force to jump back and then vaulted into a nearby alley.

Kingpin face twitched.

He hadn't expected Daredevil to become so elusive.

Running at the first sign of trouble was not the Daredevil he knew.

But chasing him down was futile, so Kingpin took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and glanced back at the nursing home.

"Send her overseas," he ordered his men.

Without waiting for his mother's reaction, Kingpin turned and returned to Manhattan.

As he stepped out of the car, he was met by a familiar but unexpected figure outside Fisk Tower, who greeted him with a smile and walked over.

"Mr. Fisk, a pleasure to meet you."

Anton grinned. "I've brought you a gift, a small token of thanks for all the attention you've shown me recently."

He handed a suitcase to Kingpin, gave a friendly wave, and left.

Meanwhile, Wesley, waiting for Kingpin, had a bad feeling.

Having spent years in the underworld, Wesley knew that a suitcase of this size was often used to carry bodies.

"Bring it to my office."

Kingpin, barely holding back his anger, said, "I want to see what he's given me."

Moments later.

Wesley's ominous feeling proved true.

Seeing the headless body inside, dressed in a leather trench coat, Kingpin could no longer contain his rage. He slammed his fist down, shattering his desk.

"Arm everyone," he snarled. "It's time to show these people what Kingpin is capable of."

Kingpin was seething.

Never had he been humiliated like this.

"The night in New York belongs to Kingpin. In recent years, people have forgotten this in the face of my corporate transformation. It's time to remind them of how terrifying and chaotic the underworld once was."

He said each word with deadly intent.

Wesley stood in a daze, as if he could see that young man from Hell's Kitchen donning his battle gear once again.

Kingpin's original declaration had been slightly different.

When he had risen to power, he had made a speech that resonated throughout the criminal underworld.

"Crime can now be traded like any business… and the chairman and the board will be… Kingpin!"