Ultra Responsibility (My Hero Academia X Spider-Man Reader)

Issue 40 - The People v. Spider-Man Part 4

The multi-storey car park felt like a concrete cathedral. Every footstep echoed. Every breath hung in the cold air like it might be recorded and filed.

Wilson Fisk stood at the very edge of an upper level, cigar ember glowing in the dim. Below him, the city stretched out in layers of neon and steel, rooftops like chess squares. His new city. His new board.

Two limousines rolled in beneath, tyres whispering over the painted arrows. Fisk didn't flinch. He simply turned, slow and deliberate, as a handful of his guards shifted around him, hands hovering near holsters like nervous habits.

The limo doors opened.

A group of men stepped out, all in suits, all wearing plague doctor masks. Black beaks. White lenses. Their formation wasn't random. It was choreography. Behind them, another figure emerged, unhurried, hands in his pockets as though the whole world owed him patience.

Fisk's expression stayed politely blank.

"I was under the impression," Fisk said, voice calm as poured concrete, "that I was to meet the boss of the Shie Hassaikai."

The masked men didn't react. The leader did.

"I am." His voice was even, clipped. "Kai Chisaki. Though for this meeting... you may address me as Overhaul."

Fisk's head dipped a fraction, an apology without submission. "My mistake. I wasn't aware the Yakuza were run by someone so..."

The silence sharpened.

Overhaul tilted his head. "Young?"

"Ambitious," Fisk corrected smoothly. He took a slow drag of his cigar, then let the smoke out like an unbothered sigh. "I appreciate the trying times you face. It's difficult to meet so openly without pro heroes getting in the way."

Overhaul's gaze drifted past Fisk, over the city beyond. "I have no interest in your hero society's politics."

Fisk's smile was a thin thing, like a blade kept behind glass.

"Once," he said, "your organisation didn't have to hide under the floorboards of society. The Yakuza were respected. Feared. Not even the government challenged you."

His eyes narrowed, just slightly.

"Then the pros arrived. Pros like All Might. And suddenly... the world decided your kind should be erased."

Overhaul didn't move, but the air around him changed. Tightened.

"You didn't invite me here," Overhaul said, "to recite history. Are you here to kick my family while we're down... or do you have something to share?"

Fisk didn't answer with words.

He tapped the trunk of his limo.

One guard stepped forward, opened it, and lifted out a briefcase with both hands, like it had weight beyond money. The case clicked open. Inside, stacks of cash sat in clean, obscene rows.

Fisk's voice stayed mild. "One point one billion yen."

Overhaul's head angled to one side. One of his men checked quickly, methodical. A nod followed.

"Real," the lackey confirmed.

"A gift," Fisk said, "to a new partnership."

Overhaul's eyes fixed on Fisk. "No one said anything about a partnership."

His tone sharpened. "What could someone running for mayor possibly give us?"

Fisk's smile grew, the kind that belonged on a statue with cracked marble.