Marvel: Rise of Venom

CH-16: A King's Hound

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Special mentions:
•Dragon Cross
•AJ
•Benoît Valtin
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The dimly lit room was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and hushed conversations.

Suddenly, the bustling atmosphere came to an abrupt halt, and every eye in the bar turned toward the entrance.

A hulking figure clad in a dazzling white tuxedo suit strode in, his imposing presence causing a shiver to run down the spines of those present.

His golden cane tapped against the floor with an eerie rhythm, adding to the air of intimidation.

The bald-headed man's head gleamed under the focused light, reflecting his power and authority. Adorned with several ornate golden rings, he exuded an aura of wealth and dominance.

Caliban, undeterred by the palpable tension, approached the imposing figure with a calm smirk.

It was as if he was accustomed to such encounters.

"Well, what a pleasant surprise." Caliban greeted, his tone filled with a hint of amusement.

He led the big man towards a secluded booth, seemingly unfazed by the atmosphere.

"It's been a while since you graced us with your presence."

"It has Caliban." The big man gruffly acknowledged, following Caliban's lead. "Never thought I'd find myself walking through these doors again."

"Until you did." Caliban chuckled, settling himself onto a large sofa. "Which suggests that you're desperate."

The man growled, unable to hide his annoyance at Caliban's assessment.

"Have you noticed anything unusual about New York lately, Caliban?" He let out a sigh, diverting the conversation to a different topic.

"It's dangerously quiet." Caliban answered abruptly, his demeanor shifting to seriousness as he leaned in closer. "Why is it so quiet, Wilson?"

"The silence before the storm." Wilson responded. "The Maggia family has run out of patience."

"Huh." Caliban scoffed, reclining back into the cushion. "So New York is about to witness another territorial war."

"Possibly sooner than you think." Wilson cautioned. "The family is rife with infighting, each member vying for power like dogs waiting to sink their teeth into the spoils."

"And you have taken it upon yourself to reign them in." Caliban chuckled, completing Wilson's thought. "That's so like you."

"Someone has to keep them in check." Wilson shrugged. "Might as well be me."

"A territorial war would be good for business for me." Caliban sighed, pouring himself a glass of whisky. "But not so much for you. So, why are you here?"

"I'm here to hire a certain member of this establishment." Wilson revealed, earning a raised eyebrow from Caliban, who seemed amused by the request. "From the Manfredi job."

Caliban couldn't help but burst into laughter, setting down his drink and shaking with amusement.

"You do realize you're not the only one who would want to hire him, nor the only one who can afford him, right?" The gray-haired man stopped laughing and asked, his tone laced with doubt. He knew Wilson understood the demand and price tag that came with top-tier hitmen during gang wars.

Caliban was well aware that a man like Wilson Fisk had a deep understanding of how the criminal underworld operated; otherwise, he wouldn't have attained his current position of power.