Phantom Without Fear 3 - or 'Do the Phantom, Mike Murdock!' (MarvelxMinor!Danny Phantom, SI)
Enrico 'Henry' Rigoletto was not pleased with what happened to his cousin.
If there is something he was keen to keep an eye on, was to protect those of the family that had nothing to do with the business. It was a sacred rule, one that he carried through from his parents. They were trueblooded Sicilians, people with honor and worthy of utmost respect.
Even now, after years of becoming one of the major Dons in the Maggia, Henry remembered the most important rule: never leave your family to the sharks. Especially if the tiny fishes were trying to get under your skin.
In this instance, the one that saw the attack on his cousin's pizzeria was indeed worrisome. Henry was always careful as he had lost an eye to some backstabbing scumbag, but this hit came from a small gang trying to be 'tough'. And since there were too many low-lives that had it out for him for turning down so many offers to introduce brothels and cocaine in his territory, he knew that those were small fished that could get bigger if left untouched.
His men were sent to deal with those punks right after the news of the attack came to his attention. But where he would have stopped to just that, the Don knew he owed someone for saving his cousin. Some 'ghost kid' came in and just smacked the punks behind the attack. A flawless job, but one that opened an idea that was just as difficult to imagine as it was wonderful if he somehow managed to strike it.
What if this kid could be directed at his current problems? Not against the police- obviously, as a man of honor, those were either 'pushed aside' or 'bribed into silence'. He had no reason to condemn some good cop because they were doing a fine job. Nah, that wasn't what had been worrying Henry.
It was the cartels and those thugs working for them here in Manhattan. If there was something the one-eyed guy hated was the fucking insistence of these groups. And yet they were tough fuckers. He could hardly get infiltrators through and those would be limited from reaching the gold mine of documents that could screw their plans.
If he had this 'Phantom Kid' as a temporary ally, then that may change.
While it was true that it was ironic a 'criminal' would look into finding support from a lil' fellah that was playing hero, it was also true they had one thing in common- a deep dislike for the worst bits of criminality. Drugs, brothels, slave rings- all that shit had no place in New York.
So, Henry found a new focus to waste resources about. He didn't exactly pay for a Private Investigator, but he paid for Pizza from his cousin. And the end result was more than enough than a month of investigations could have produced.
The kid that brought him the still-warm food was fast- too fast actually. He seemed very nervous as Henry invited the boy to take a seat by his desk. Anything worrisome was removed out of courtesy, but his missing eye covered by a eyepatch still got some attention.
Nonetheless, the boy, Mike, was clearly the Phantom Kid. It wasn't just the fact he was a kid or around the height his cousin had suggested. No, it was the motivation- the boy had 'reason' to help the place he worked at. It was the only place he acted as a defender. It could also justify him being able to get to destination faster than any normal human being should be able to afford by foot.
The kid tried to play it cool but-
"Are you a mutant or what?"
The pressure was high, and Henry was having fun having the tyke squirm on the chair before he confessed and got all aggressive.
"What do you want?" The cat had fangs, and he was baring those to a lion. Or maybe, it was the opposite and the kid was actually a proper lion with his powers.
"I need someone to help... society. Let me put it quite simple, kiddo. I need papers- stuff I can rush to the cops through my contacts and see some of my 'unsavory rivals' removed."
"I am not-"
"An enforcer- which is fair. But what I want is remove the worst scum from NY. Let me ask you- have you noticed much drug in this district? Any prostitutes?"
"...No?"
"Why do you think that's the case? I am king here, and I don't like that shit. The punks that I want you to ruin are those that do that. I want you to help me with that and... I'll let you pick a price."
Despite how irritated he looked up at that point, this last offer seemed to 'please' Mikey.
"Deal, but I'll make it expensive."
For some reasons, he could tell the price was going to still be far from horrible. Something just told him that... this kid may be up to something 'interesting'.
Working for the Maggia was not part of the plan, but it helped me prevent the rise of a scumbag that Matt wouldn't have to face in the future.
One of the first gangs I found papers about was the group led by Wilson Fisk- the man that would have become the Kingpin was ironically brought back to jail through Don Rigoletto, and never had the chance to worm his way in the group and kill the man.
Don Rigoletto... he wasn't a good person. He didn't try to 'pay me', but he made it clear he could. He wanted to see how 'far' I could go without feeling the pressure, but I was glad the guy didn't bother my family. My efforts were paying off immensely in supporting the income as Matt was finally out of the hospital and his needed prescription had lowered to an acceptable level.
Dad had resumed his boxing career as he knew I could take care of him, and he seemed too optimistic to try and take part to rigged competitions. It was good, for now. The entire deal with Don Rigoletto was a double-edged sword that went on for a full year.
I wouldn't say that it was truly bad considering that I was yeeting some of the rising gangs driven by drugs and other horrible businesses behind bars, but it still felt dirty. I wasn't doing 'heroic stuff' for the sake of it and I wasn't getting recognition.
In a sense, this was perfect. Ignoring the fact I was literally allowing for some corrupt cops to get promotions, I was actually cleaning up the streets without being noticed. I did not exist in the papers, and everyone just assumed that 'something was being done right' through the 'right places' rather than through 'vigilantism'.
It covered for me as I could further test my powers, do good, and not have eyes on me. The 'Superhero Paradox' tended to work around the 'concept of a Hero' existing. If I was a shadow, a literal phantom, then no supervillains should come to nag at me.
And for the entire year, that was indeed the case. There was nothing telling me that trouble was on the way. Nothing but... well, this.
"So, who's the hobo, Matt?"
The slim looking guy merely rolled his eyes as I tried to make sense of the sight of some hobo-looking man talking with my brother about 'training'. Yes, I knew who the guy was but I tried to play it 'dumb' considering who I was looking at.
To the average comic lover, this was just the mentor of Matt that knew ninja stuff but.
"I don't know, how about you tell me, live and yet dead one?" Stick, student to the Ancient One, inquired.
Fucking my attempt to secrecy once again.
AN
Next time... a bit of a timeskip. Especially since it's time for things to pick up in action, importance and... 'love'?
