A young man stood by the newsstand, pretending to read a newspaper while keeping his eyes locked on his target in the distance, "I'm telling you, why are we surveilling a high school student?"
"Just routine procedure," came the reply through his earpiece.
Across the street, a middle-aged man leaned against a car, occasionally checking his watch as if waiting for someone:
"According to the intel we have, this Sean Cyphers kid was threatened by gang members a week ago. Those thugs are now in the hospital. Then a gang leader came after him... yesterday, fourteen bodies were found in an abandoned factory in Queens, including said leader."
"And what does that prove? That a high schooler took out fourteen armed men?" The young man smirked, unconvinced.
"Of course not. But the timing is suspicious, so we can't really rule him out..." The older agent kept his voice low.
He too found it hard to believe that an orphaned teenager could single-handedly kill fourteen hardened criminals.
But protocol demanded they surveil all persons of interest until cleared.
"It could just be regular gang violence," the younger agent mused, "That leader worked for Frank D'Amico, the West Coast kingpin. He's been fighting the Japanese Hand and the Irish mob for Hell's Kitchen turf. Who's to say they weren't behind it?"
"Good point. Make sure to include that in the report." The older agent nodded.
Beneath New York's glamorous exterior festered a dark underworld where gangs constantly warred over territory and illicit profits.
"Speaking of Hell's Kitchen, we've got other targets there too."
The younger agent skimmed the list:
"Daredevil... the so-called 'Red Devil of Hell's Kitchen'. A freak who beats up criminals at night with insane combat skills and heightened senses. Then there's the Punisher... ruthless, no mercy for criminals. Judging by his methods, probably ex-military or mercenary."
These were all subjects requiring monitoring, though not yet deemed high-risk threats to national security. For now, tracking their movements sufficed.
"None of them are pushovers. And it feels like these freaks are popping up everywhere lately." The older agent sighed.
Their work used to focus on transnational crime syndicates and terrorist cells. Now they had to deal with costumed vigilantes too.
"Alright, wrapping up surveillance on Subject 76, Sean Cyphers. No anomalies detected."
The younger agent set down his newspaper, glancing one last time at the teenager still engrossed in comics at the store.
"How anyone could link a comic book nerd to a cold-blooded killer is beyond me," he muttered under his breath.
.....
As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the city in golden twilight, the streets buzzed with commuters rushing home...
Only after the agents departed did Sean finally lower his comic book, relief flashing in his eyes.
"Thorough bunch, aren't they? Not even the smallest coincidence gets overlooked." Thanks to his enhanced hearing, he had caught every word of their conversation.
They'd never suspect their surveillance target possessed abilities far beyond any normal human.
"Daredevil, Punisher... So SHIELD has been monitoring street-level vigilantes all along..." The agents' chatter had yielded valuable intel.
Hell's Kitchen, once a notorious Manhattan slum, had long been a hotbed of organized crime. Recent redevelopments hadn't erased its dark reputation.
"And if I recall, there's a certain real estate magnate making waves there... Wilson Fisk."
Sean sifted through his memories, piecing together the world's state of affairs.
As a small fish, he had no desire to attract SHIELD's attention prematurely. With many superheroes yet to emerge, now was the time to lay groundwork for future gains.
But first, who to target?
After consideration, Sean decided Frank D'Amico remained the priority.
Eliminating the drug lord would divert SHIELD's attention while solving his own financial woes...
.....
Back home, Sean changed into a compression shirt and launched into his brutal workout routine.
The once-sparse room now housed an array of fitness equipment. His adolescent frame had developed defined musculature, each punishing rep driving his body beyond normal limits.
*Huff...* *Huff...*
His breathing resembled a bellows, each gasp fueling his relentless training. The gradual strength gains, though incremental, were intoxicating.
He sensed that breaching some unseen barrier would unlock even greater rewards.
"Time to play superhero and clean up the streets." A smirk crossed his face.
He had planned to deal with D'Amico later, but SHIELD's appearance accelerated the timeline.
Creating a new figure for them to focus on would kill two birds with one stone... divert their scrutiny while replenishing his dwindling funds.
Those compensation payouts had nearly evaporated after purchasing equipment and high-calorie supplements. Robbing a drug lord to fund his crusade? Poetic justice.
"If I had transmigrated as Tony Stark, money wouldn't be an issue." Sean chuckled darkly.
The first steps were always the hardest. But once he gained momentum, wealth and power would follow.
All in due time...
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