Disclaimer: If you dislike gratuitous violence, discussion of racial issues, portrayals of severe mental illness, existentialism, and OC-centric fics, this isn't for you. Insert Witty I Don't Own the Property Spiel Here.

A New Mutant

Chapter 4: Divine Wisdom

Several hours passed. Jesús kept watch throughout the entire time and polished his handgun without looking at its luxuriousness. Ren observed Kojo, watched the sky alongside him, 'meditated,' and unwinded the bladed chain whip wrapped around her arm hidden by her jacket sleeve to practice. Other than cloud-gazing, Kojo etched 'Bloodriver was here' into the roof material. Overall, it was as eventful as almost all moments in their lives the past two years. None of their prowess ebbed, unfortunately for their would-be enemies, but increased in that period of time: they knew such skills would be needed.

Kojo's nose twitched as a vehicle vroomed close. "Looks like they're opening shop." He kip-upped to his feet and stretched. "I'd recognize the scent of oily guineas anywhere."

"You can smell race?" Ren asked, stopping to rewrap her unique weapon.

"Didn't I… Oh right. It's complicated but yeah. I can even smell cancer and other mutants...Especially other mutants…" He scowled. "I fucking hate other mutants."

Knowing better than to ask why, Ren took her place at his right.

Jesús stowed El Papa and walked to his boss' left.

Kojo waited until the Italian men were situated inside before jumping down with his lieutenants. "I'll go in first, stand directly behind me in case one gets trigger happy."

They took their places behind the impromptu meatshield.

He pushed the doors wide open and grinned.

The bartender, a drinking pianist, and a full table of serious fancy men fitting the classy club aesthetic with poker cards in their hands turned to greet him.

"Oh fuck," one of the older gents said, "it's that kid from the Bronx."

A young man clucked his tongue and looked to him. "That ain't Larry."

"It's the Prince… The Aztec," another middle-age man clarified.

Kojo hummed. "Haven't heard that one in a while. Lately, it's just been Prince when people aren't pissing themselves. I'd blame Silvio if it hadn't caught on after Castle Hill." He stepped forward as nonthreatening as he could, which was almost impossible. "Where is the old man? We need to have a talk."

The remaining quiet sitter at the table cleared his throat. "The offer you were given was a limited time thing."

"I remember." He glared at the man. "And I'm here talk to him."

The youngest rose from his seat. "You lis-"

His elders stared him down.

"I'll call him," The eldest said, drawing a burner from his pocket.

"Good." Kojo strolled to the bar, sat himself in a stool, and glanced at his shadows. "Sit down. Relax." He shifted his gaze to the sweating bartender. "Margarita. Mezcal in place of tequila, salt-rimmed, and blended, not stirred." He pointed to his sitting lieutenants. "Water for these two."

The man nodded and got to work.

Jesús stayed silent.

"I know, you want to get shitfaced to… For whatever reason, but we need to look professional." Kojo blinked and looked down at his Itsuki-cut shirt. He lifted his blood-caked hands. Clearing his throat, he turned to Jesús still face. "We need to be sober, and I'm the only one here immune to alcohol's negative effects."

He nodded.

"I'm glad." He turned to Ren.

She bowed her head.

Kojo patted her pony-tailed hair. "Good girl."

Ren turned her blushing face the opposite direction.

In several minutes, the bartender set their drinks on the marble counter.

Kojo put his lips to the glass and gulped the tangy stark blend of smoked, fermented sweet agave, liquor, and lime juice.

"I-is it good?" The bartender asked.

"As good as it was last… Yeah, it's great." He looked to his followers. "How's the water?"

"It's water, patrón."

"Colorful as ever, Jesús."

They gulped down their drinks together.

Forty minutes filled with several refills flew by. Curses and whispers emerged from the table behind them, not that they cared much outside of watching for weapon reaches. In fact, it was rather entertaining for them.

The front door churned open.

Everyone turned to an albino giant dressed in a black suit.

Kojo stared and sipped his drink as the man approached the bar.

He sat himself down two stools away. "Iced lemonade, bartender."

"R-right away, sir!"

Kojo set his glass on the counter. "Big Man… You ever get that feeling of déjà vu? I don't mean a familiar feeling: I mean as though everything you're doing is something you've done before and something important is going to happen, but you're doing something different… If that makes any sense."

"No, not at all." He looked over Ren's head to Kojo. "You're not dressed for this place, your accent is vaguely Latin but distinctly American as if you trained yourself to speak that way, our bartender is avoiding eye-contact, the capos are almost silent, and, to state the obvious, there are horns on your head. You're not welcome here, are you?" He grinned, baring his sharpened teeth. "Prince?"

"Guilty as charged, Tombstone."

The albino man chuckled. "My reputation precedes me, it seems. I'm honored to be recognized by a growing legend like you. I'd ask what brings you here, but I already know."

"Same reason as you: Silvio."

The bartender set down his newest customer's drink.

"I wonder if he called me here to discuss you or Hammerhead." Tombstone took hold of his lemonade, drank down a quarter of its contents, and sighed in satisfaction.

"Hammerhead." Kojo slurped from his own beverage. "For me, he'd need someone with a more surgical approach."

"Is that so?"

"Really more of a surgical army, but a good enough squad with specialized weapons and skills could do. If you've heard of me, you have some idea of what I'm capable of."

"Many rumors but nothing concrete." He shifted his gaze to the bar rack. "Truth is a fickle thing, isn't it?"

"Human recollection, perception, and conception are flawed."

"You say that as if you aren't one."

"I'm not, not anymore." Kojo took in Tombstone's odd scent. "Are you?"

"Maybe, maybe not. It all comes down to perception and semantics."

The two sipped their drinks as Ren and the bartender sweated.

"Silvio knows you're here if you've stayed as long as I think you have." Tombstone said.

Kojo smirked. "I had his capos call him for me."

"Either you have a death wish or some elaborate plot to take care of the old man and get out here alive."

"The latter." Kojo laughed. "It's going to blow your fucking mind."

"Oh really?"

"Oh fuck yeah, just sit back and watch. This literal son of a bitch can do more than just flex his divine muscles."

Tombstone chuckled and shook his head. "You've got spirit at the very least."

Another half hour flew by. More refills were given, restrooms were visited, and insults were exchanged by the capos.

Kojo's nose twitched before he stood from his seat. "Looks like the old man's come…alone. Probably some snipers on the rooftops or some real hardass commando ninja type on standby." He turned to the staircase and waved for his lieutenants to follow. "Tell him I'm waiting on the second floor, Tombstone. Feel free to tag along with him."

"Wouldn't miss the coming moments for the world," the albino giant said, getting off his own stool.

They parted.

Kojo picked out a table close to the railing for the old man to hop over. Any sane person his age wouldn't, bones being what they are, but the crime prince's presence was a maddening hazard. The view his capos would have could alleviate his distress, prevent them from snooping, and keep them in line if they thought of trying anything. Things were already different from how he felt they were supposed to be: Jesús felt out of place, they had arrived far earlier, and Silvio knew he was present.

So long as he adapted, the situation was salvageable.

Manfredi's scent wafted throughout the piano club when the entrance door opened. Voices were hushed and things were said. Greeting rituals took place before the scent drifted closer. The pianist began playing a familiar, reverent composition.

"No matter what happens, don't hurt him," Kojo said. He glanced at his lieutenants sitting at his sides and the table's. "It has to be me. Understand?"

They nodded.

Tombstone's head popped up over the stairs before Silvio 'Silvermane' Manfredi's face did.

An odd nostalgic warmth in his chest made Kojo smile.

He blinked, thinned his lips, and watched his literal oldest rival approach.

"I had a feeling we'd meet again," Silvio said, taking his place in one of the two open chairs at the table. "I didn't expect you to be so brazen after our last conversation though."

"How's Sofia?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Well." He laughed. "She's actually asked me about you ever since. I tried explaining to her how dangerous you were, but that only made her more interested."

"She's a girl." Kojo snuck a glance at Ren. "They have an awful habit of being attracted toward danger. She needs a good man in her life, and she needs to grow into a good woman; I've seen what happens to those that don't do or get either."

"Hunts Point is famous for how drug ridden and prostitute filled it is: there are several documentaries about it, and they are harrowing. I don't doubt you've seen things no child should see when you grew up there."

Kojo looked down at the tabletop. "…I didn't come here to talk about those days." He turned his gaze to Silvio's grey eyes. "I came here to ask you one question."

"And?" The legend narrowed his eyes.

"How long do you think you have, old man?"

Silvio scoffed. "More than you, kid. Did you really think coming here, telling me where you are, and just giving me all the time in the world left you with any? What the hell were you thinking?"

"I could kill everyone here without so much as raising my arms. There are a few people alive that could hurt me, much less kill me. You? Your position is far more fragile than mine: there's an unruly vassal you've let rebel far too long, a blight on this city you should've put down long ago, and outsiders you let take up shop in our city."

Silvermane brought his hand down on the table, making the pianist stop. "My family has kept control in this city for over half a century! I have seen upstarts come and go! You think any of this is new to me!? I've fought real wars! I built this family from nothing, and it will persist longer than either of us will while everyone else has died!" He took a deep breath and folded his hands. "…You want me to kneel to you."

"It's the only way the Silvermane family will survive. Once you die, your capos will fight over your position. Sofia will be too young when it happens, if you ignore the whole girl thing. Hammerhead and Kingpin will move in and there'll be nothing left."

Silvio looked down at the table. "Hammerhead won't be a problem for much longer." He glanced at Tombstone.

It was already over.

"You've let it be a problem for too long. Kingpin will make his move against you soon enough. It doesn't matter if you have all the Maggia back under your flag: his private army will tear you apart and he'll rule over whatever is left, if he doesn't just send an assassin after you."

"Kingpin won't risk open warfare." Silvio scoffed. "It will out his identity to the public. As for assassination, I'm protected by armed guards every day and hour of the week."

"The age of firearms is nearly over, old man, and you didn't exactly make a good move coming in here alone. Living weapons of mass destruction like me are popping up everywhere in the world. We're already dealing with super powered freak shows who make asses out of themselves terrorizing the city. Kingpin can just hire one of them to take you out."

Silvio paused for a minute and hummed. "Let's say I do kneel to you and we combine our forces. My professional well-equipped men to your experienced peashooter-and-rusted-switchblade-wielding-thugs. Can't you see the problem already?" He raised an eyebrow. "You may claim to be a walking weapon of mass destruction but your men could hardly compare. We could launch a joint attack on Kingpin, and we'd both be flanked: me by Hammerhead and you by the Yakuza. Kingpin can easily mow down both our armies and hire one of those so-called super-villains to take you out. If we try to handle the thorns to our sides and aren't careful, Kingpin could push into our territory while we're distracted. Even if we somehow manage to take care of both of them undetected, we'd still be no match for Kingpin's forces."

Kojo burst into laughter.

Everyone present stared.

It took several unnerving minutes for the glee to die.

"The Yakuza aren't a problem anymore: I killed Seong Woo-Jin, flipped his second-in-command, and ordered him to take care of anyone who was loyal to the mainland clan. He's going to back me with their native New Yorker recruits. As for my men's shitty gear, I made a deal with the Bratva to bring me two-hundred orders of military-specialized weaponry and body armor to outfit my boys with. My men are going to be more well-equipped than yours and outfitted well enough to take on Kingpin's private army."

Silvio cupped his chin and averted his eyes.

Tombstone looked back and forth from him to Kojo, still expression conveying everything.

All the cards were in the prodigy's hands, and it only took two moves for him to get there. In truth, none of them but the most obscure would survive an open total war for New York. The Maggia were well established, and Kingpin's identity was nearly an open secret barely kept together by technicalities along with degrees of separation. He was only a whisper, one with many names but his own.

Silvio rose.

Kojo gestured him to sit down. "It's okay. Keep quiet so no one else hears us. You're going to have Lonnie here take care of Josef like you planned to and take control of his half of Brooklyn, but I need you to let my man in Queens take over the borough. The Silvermane family and the Maggia of New York will still exist…as my puppets.

"…Where the hell have you been keeping this?" The old man stared into his demonic eyes. "This is big, bigger than that sorry excuse for a coalition. Also, your eyes are different."

"It's nothing. Fisk's greatest mistake, other than crossing me, was letting everyone fucking know who he really was. I knew I couldn't make the same mistake starting out, so my name is a secret, and no one but a select few is allowed to call me by them. I'm the boss, the don, el jefe, el patrón, oyabun, and even the master. But really I'm just a man with a large shadow." He smirked. "New York will be under new management, but no one will know this time. They'll see me and know me, but they won't." Rising, he gestured for his lieutenants to follow suit. "I'll keep in touch, old man. Tell Sofia I'm a friend of the family, and that I'll be seeing her soon."

Silvio nodded as they walked away.

Tombstone sat beside his old employer in silence, unsure if what just occurred really happened.

The capos and staff watched the three exit.

Kojo didn't bother acknowledging the rifle scope glares from the nearby rooftops. He wrapped his arms around his two subservients, hopped to the roof, and took off into the Brooklyn skies.

"Patrón," Jesús said, "shouldn't I drive?"

Ren turned green, clutching him tighter. "Reyes-sama, please."

"Not a chance in hell, man. There's way too many people awake, walking, and driving now. I don't want to get fucked over because you don't know how to drive and turn like a sane person."

"Lo entiendo, patrón."

"You fucking…better." Kojo blinked. "I have the weirdest feeling of déjà vu…again. Fucking hell, this is like the eighth time and it gets increasingly annoying every time like this little parasite embedded in my forehead."

"Reyes-sama?"

"Forget I said anything."

Fifteen minutes of rooftop hopping commenced.

Kojo stopped on a rooftop as the familiar feeling came to an all-time high. "This some ways from where…" His nose twitched. "Little Queens-dwelling, chemical-tinkering, hairy, supe bitch."

"What?"

A young man in red and blue swung from a strand of odd web on to the rooftop.

Jesús reached for his weapon but a raised hand from his superior stopped him.

"Well, well, well," Spider-man said, crossing his arms. "What do we have here in Maggia territory? Asterio, if that's even your real name, what are you doing here of all places?"

Kojo grinned and shifted his hold on his lieutenants. "Going on a date with my girlfriend." He kissed Ren's reddening cheek. "And my boyfriend." He smooched the nearest man's cheek too.

Jesús blinked.

Spider-man stared. "…Wow. I mean, uh…" He began fidgeting. "That's great! I'm not… I mean, that's cool. Cool and great as in not sarcastic.. Uh, I'm happy for you! Not implying you're… Uh?"

"Are you calling me a faggot?" Kojo narrowed his eyes.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

Kojo laughed. "I'm fucking with you!" He let go of his lieutenants. "I'm not cut out for relationships, but it has been a while since I've gotten laid. You know that feeling, right?"

"Yeah, riiight."

"I knew, you don't have a whiff of sex off you. It's almost like you're…" Kojo blinked.

Spider-boy averted his gaze. "I think I'm going to go now."

"You're sixteen and you haven't had sex?"

"Oh come on!" He threw his arms up. "Are we seriously going to talk about this when I found you in Maggia turf?!"

Kojo scoffed. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even know the Maggia existed. How are you still a virgin? Look at you in that fucking gimp suit!" He gave him a once-over. "Do you just wear baggy clothes and act like a pussy all the time?"

"I-I have to maintain appearances! My real life doesn't revolve around this!"

"Oh come on, I got laid when I was twelve." His lieutenants joined Spider-man in staring at him. "What's your excuse now?"

"…Don't you think you were a little too young at that age?"

"I was a mutant going through puberty; you try keeping your dick in your pants when you're basically a demigod… Also, a lot of half-naked whores living in your neighborhood, not that I fucked any: I'm too good for those dirty hookers." He grumbled. "Wish one would fuck off."

Spider-man sighed. "Dude, why are you really here?"

"Silvio Manfredi called for me." He stepped forward and pointed his thumb back at his companions. "I brought them as backup in case it was a trap, but it wasn't."

"What did he want?"

"He…" Kojo averted his gaze. "He wanted to talk to me about my dad."

"Why? Also, your eyes are red."

"I know. Because he learned he worked for the Kingpin before he was killed."

"…Oh." Spider-man lifted a hand to rub the back of his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Don't sweat it. Just don't be so quick to judge or reach for conclusions." He shot the rookie hero a look. "Especially involving people who gave your dumbass advice when you knew jackshit."

"I said I'm sorry!"

"There's fucking up and there's being almost intentionally retarded… You were thinking of slinging right into me, feet kicking out, weren't you?"

Spider-man jumped. "How did y- I mean, no I didn't!"

"Fucking asshole."

"I… I'm sorry. I just got really angry when I thought the first guy who acknowledged me and helped me understand things was just playing me."

Kojo smiled. He was right and he had no idea just how much he was. "I understand. Don't be too hard on yourself when you fuck up: in the end, you punish yourself more than anyone else does."

"Thanks." Spider-man relaxed. "That's actually pretty insightful of you…minotaur man."

Kojo spun on his heel and stepped back to his followers, taking hold of them once more. "It's…" He sighed. "Never mind."

"Come on! At least give me a name!"

"Names are for friends, and I barely know you." He took off. "Later, webhead!"

"Later Asterio!" The rookie hero sprayed his artificial web at another building.

"It's… Oh, fuck you!"

They went their separate ways through the sky.

Ren cleared her throat minutes later. "Reyes-sama, your father?"

"Don't." He tightened his grip on her, putting a man's full weight of pressure on her breastbone. "Forget everything you heard, woman. What I said doesn't concern you."

"I-I-I understand!"

"Jesús?"

"Sí, patrón?"

"Did you hear anything?"

"No, patrón."

"Good," Kojo said, relaxing his hold.

They soared through the air in silence.

"...You seemed happy talking with the Spider-Man, Reyes-sama."

Kojo blinked as he hopped off another rooftop. "Yeah, I was." He laughed. "Can you believe that idiot thinks I'm a superhero?"

"There is much good your actions have brought, however heinous they were, Reyes-sama."

He glanced at Ren, eyebrow raised.

"I do not think you are a hero: your selfish actions have had more positive results than negative is all."

"Alright, you weirded me out for a second there" He shook his head free of the malaise and returned his attention to rooftop hopping.

It took almost thirty minutes for them to cross back into the Bronx. Kojo jumped from bridge support to bridge support on the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge, watched himself when crossing into Randall's Island, and resumed the support hopping when they appeared again. When he entered Mott Haven's air, he felt déjà vu again.

"What the fuck now?" He whispered. "…No." His eyes widened. "Something is wrong."

"Reyes-sama?"

"Patrón?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, just…" His hopping pace picked up. "Hold on."

They zoomed to Hunts Point in thirty seconds.

Kojo's nose twitched and his brow furrowed. "Harry mutie fuck." There was something different about the scent, something familiar. He followed it to the warehouse base street.

Then he saw him.

He hopped to the rooftop opposite the closed warehouse and set down Jesús before hopping down some ways from the middle of the street, setting down Ren. Clucking his tongue, he hopped between Marcus' stare off with the mutant stranger.

"About time you showed up," they said in unison. Both scowled and scoffed.

Kojo glared at the mutton-chopped, motorcycle-leaning mutant.

"Careful, kid," he said with a raspy voice, "I didn't come here to kick your ass: I'm here to give you one warning."

"Why do all of you people who think you're anything to me do this one warning, one opportunity, one offer, one last chance bullshit?" Kojo walked forward. "I don't give a single fuck who you are or what you have to say; you're not welcome here. Fuck off like the rest of the muties."

"Do I really have to tell you're a mutie too?"

"Niggers and spics have told me the same, not that it mattered. We share the same gene, but we're not the same people. I never was."

He crossed his arms and glared up at him. "Still, you're associated with the rest of us. What you do is reflected on others whether you like it or not, and we can't afford anymore shitheads like you running around giving us a bad name."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You do it to yourselves. Isolate yourself in your own little gated community, bitch about how the world doesn't understand what it's doing, and have the audacity to play the victim when people don't like you for being a bunch of whiny faggots." Kojo laughed.

"We save the world, and insults are our thanks."

"You live here, dumbass. All you're doing is saving your own skin, what anyone would do if they could. Don't expect thanks for doing your duty either. The Avengers does it all the time a small applause is all they get nowadays. Soldiers get even less."

"And how would you know?" The man raised an eyebrow.

"I know what it's like to be forgotten, and I've seen them around, telling tales of things they wish they could forget: brothers in arms being alive one moment and mortar mulch the next, the screams of people burning in napalm, children taking arms against them, and coming home to their unfaithful women calling them murderers." He scoffed. "Someone calls your kind what you are and you think it's misery. Please."

"You live in a goddamn gang clubhouse. I can smell the knives and guns." The mutant grumbled. "I can smell all the fucking blood on you and not just because your hands are dried in it."

Kojo chuckled. "That makes two of us: lost count by the smell of it, haven't you?"

"We're not the same at all. You're still just some brat in over his head, planning god knows what from this shithole. It's going to blow up in your face, and I'm going to drag your ass all the way back to the academy, so I can school you myself when it happens."

"Come up with that all by yourself, old man? What fucking century are you from? The nineteen hundreds are calling, they want their puns back."

"Fuck you." The mutant got back on to his bike and roared its engine.

"Fuck you!"

The man took off, leaving Kojo's confused crew alone with him.

"Fucking hell, I thought you'd never put your dicks away!" Marcus sighed as he approached. "Any idea who that was?"

"That was the Wolverine."

"…What."

Kojo nodded, hopped up to the roof, grabbed Jesús, and fell back down. "It was the guy in yellow and blue spandex with metal claws that jut out his hands… Didn't think he'd be a fucking midget, but I had a feeling."

"That was an X-man?"

"Did you not hear what I said?"

"I heard you. I just needed confirmation, so I could tell you what the fuck?!"

"Easy." He patted his shoulder and glanced at Ren when she walked over. "It's just a glorified immortal midget; we'll be fine."

"Kojo!"

"Marcus, I get you're being a star-struck homo right now over that hairy asshole, but there is a lot we need to do before this day even begins to end."

He took a deep breath and sighed. "…How did things go?"

"The Bratva deal is on, Silvio bent the knee, and he has someone working on taking care of Hammerhead as we speak."

He blinked and turned to Ren.

She gave a small laugh as she nodded.

"That's…everyone but Kingpin accounted for if Hammerhead bites it."

Kojo grinned. "And you thought I'd fuck up."

"You thought you'd fuck up!"

"And I didn't. I need you to take care of the Bratva deal. It's a total of about five mil for two hundred rifles, two mags per rifle containing black tipped rounds, two hundred ka-bar knives, two hundred mil-spec vests, and an OSV-96 with a single mag of black tipped rounds."

"Then we move on Kingpin?"

"I'll do the preparations for the move on Kingpin while you take care of that." He frowned. "I need to talk with Alex."

Marcus scoffed. "You can't use that bitch for something as delicate as that."

"I don't need to use her…I need what she knows."

"The fuck does she know? She's just a murderous hoe."

Kojo laughed as he led them to the warehouse gate. "Starting your rap album?"

"Nigga, you know I don't like that shit."

"I'm not a nigger." He input the door code. "And I've seen your head bob to negro trash before."

Marcus shrugged. "The beats are fire sometimes is all."

They walked inside together. On the roundtable lay duffle bags filled to the brim with dollar bills, which cushioned them for Alex to lay on top of. Nearly all the foot soldiers were staring at her in fear of their true master's wrath.

Kojo scowled. "Aleeexis!"

Alex froze before lifting her upper body. "B-boss! It's just Alex."

"I don't think it is," he said on the approach.

"It's whatever you want it to be." She smirked.

"Drop it."

"Drop what?"

"The act. I'll admit, you had me fooled." Kojo averted his gaze. "Honestly, I want to ram my head against the wall until my brains ooze out. I should've known better, but I was full of myself. I thought you were just another broken coke whore who went crazy after she met her breaking count of johns."

Alex giggled. "I'm exactly that! I went fucking nuts over nuts!"

"At first…then you met me, and I talked to you like you were an actual person for the first time in years, right?"

"…Right." She shook. "It reminded me of a lot of things."

"What the fuck is happening?" Marcus asked.

Kojo walked up to the blond and took hold of her hands. "That night when you were about to kill that kid was when it really stopped, didn't it? I made you remember."

"Boss, I don't know wha-"

He pressed his forehead against hers, his immaterial third eye phasing through her flesh. "I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing so bear with me." He closed his material eyes.

Her eyes snapped shut as well.

All that was Kojo and not Kojo filled Alex's vessel, enshrouding her blue soul in his dark red. Memories, feelings, thoughts, and everything they had experienced mixed. Things that he knew but could not became things she did. Their times before and after became known to her. His true nature became known to her. Life and Death became known to her.

It was a joining beyond what either of them thought they would share.

Kojo opened his eyes when it was done, an instant barely passing since.

Alex's eyes quivered open.

Marcus clucked his tongue before voicing everyone's thoughts again. "Seriously, what the fuck is happening?"

"Alexis?"

Her blue eyes blurred with tears. "Kwadwo."

"Kojo. Just Kojo….I've always been Kojo." He parted from her and stepped back. "Kwadwo is too much, and I'm pretty sure my mother thought so too."

"Same reason why I prefer Alex." She laughed as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Yeah, I'm just fucking with you as payback for fucking with me."

She collapsed to her knees and bowed her head. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I have no excuse!" She sobbed.

"Stop. You know how I am around wailing women."

"It either annoys you, turns you on, or weirds you out!"

He looked at his confused audience. "Thanks for saying that for everyone to hear."

"I'm so sorry!"

"Fucking hell." He shook his head. "What did I do?"

The Foxy One remembers where Puny Mind has forgotten.

'That tells me nothing, and you know it.'

I cannot help the Puny Mind understand beyond its capabilities.

'I hate you.'

Marcus cleared his throat.

Kojo turned back. "Yeah?"

"You mind explaining what just happened?"

"Would if I could. Pick out some men and take them to the Bratva in Brooklyn." He began walking out the warehouse. "I'll lay the groundwork for Kingpin's fall."

"Where the fuck are you going?!"

"Mott Haven. Fisk's lawyer is a dirty sonofabitch and that faggot pimp Zebra Daddy is worse." Kojo hopped to the roof and took off.

Everyone left behind stared at the weeping roundtable member.

None but her understood.

Oh yeah, I'm going to go places if you haven't already guessed by now.