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Home of the Devil Fruits
"Lee, I've got good news for you. Alexandra and Sowande, the last two remaining Fingers of the Hand, are dead."
Rosh's alt account, Shaun Lee, suddenly lit up with a message from Kingpin. He opened it, read the line once, then leaned back slightly and let out a quiet, thoughtful sigh.
In the original Marvel timeline, the Hand had been a monster of an organization, a shadow empire that had existed for more than eight hundred years, longer than the United States itself. It had appeared again and again across multiple stories, and each time it surfaced, it carried the same weight. It was never just another gang or secret society. It was the final boss in the room. Even the Defenders, a team built for exactly this kind of threat, had struggled badly against it and been pushed to the edge more than once.
And now it was gone.
Wiped out.
Just like that.
Still, if Rosh was being honest, the Hand had no one to blame but itself. If Madam Gao and the others had not been foolish enough to aim at him in the first place, they would not have ended up like this. Some mistakes were just too expensive.
"Fisk, were you the one who killed them?" Rosh typed back through the Shaun Lee account, asking the question directly.
Wilson Fisk was the underground emperor of New York, and now he also had the power of a Devil Fruit, but even with that, Rosh did not believe Kingpin could casually crush the Hand on his own. An organization with eight centuries of roots did not simply collapse overnight unless something far more dangerous had moved against it.
"No," Kingpin replied. "It wasn't me, though I've wanted them dead for a long time. Someone else took them out."
Rosh's eyes narrowed slightly.
As expected.
Rosh wasn't surprised in the least. Still, he was a little curious.
"Then who did it?" he asked.
"I'm still investigating," Kingpin sent back. "But whoever it was, they did the world a favor."
Rosh didn't get a clear answer, but a name had already surfaced in his mind.
Stick.
The motive fit. The skill fit. The timing fit. If anyone was capable of hunting down the last Fingers of the Hand and finishing them off quietly, it was him.
Still, Rosh did not linger on it. In the end, the Hand's leftovers meant very little to him now. They had already fallen off the board.
"Boss, there's a customer who needs to speak with you personally." One of the shop assistants stepped up and spoke quietly, pulling Rosh out of his thoughts.
Rosh gave a small nod. Since business had exploded, the Home of the Devil Fruits had gone through a basic renovation. A private reception room had been added, which meant things were no longer like before, where anyone could walk in off the street and speak to him directly. Now the staff handled the flow.
Customers from all over the country were screened first, and only those with genuine buying intent were brought in to negotiate with him face-to-face. It had reduced his workload a lot, and for once, the shop actually felt like a serious business instead of a crowded miracle stall.
The only issue was space. Even after renting the neighboring unit as a temporary extension, the store still felt cramped, especially on peak days when the line wrapped around the block. But there was nothing to do about that yet. The new Manhattan location was still under renovation, so for the moment, he had to keep making it work.
"I understand. Bring them in," Rosh said. He closed the chat with Kingpin, set his phone aside, and waited.
A moment later, the reception room door opened. A female staff member stepped in first and respectfully ushered in a woman with a graceful figure and sharp Western features. She carried herself with the kind of polished confidence that made people move aside without being asked. Elegant, capable, and clearly used to professional environments.
Rosh only needed one glance to recognize her.
She was not a major player in the Marvel world, but she was memorable. A brilliant scientist. A genuinely top-tier mind in botanical research, and one of the key figures behind Extremis, the technology that had caused enormous trouble for Iron Man and nearly dragged the country into chaos.
And on top of that, she had a title the tabloids would love even more.
Tony Stark's former flame.
Maya Hansen.
"Shopkeeper Rosh," Maya said with a polished smile as she stepped forward and extended her hand, "you're even more handsome in person than you look on TV."
"Thank you," Rosh replied with an easy smile, taking her hand in a smooth shake. "Getting praised by a beautiful woman is never a bad way to start a conversation."
Maya laughed softly. It was a natural, unforced sound, and for a moment the room lightened. Someone in her position was not easy to impress, but Rosh had a presence that drew people's attention. His name now carried weight across the country, and in terms of influence, he was not far below Tony Stark himself.
After a short round of introductions, they skipped the small talk and moved straight to business.
"Ms. Hansen," Rosh said, leaning back slightly in his chair, "do you already have a specific Devil Fruit in mind, or are you looking for a certain kind of effect?"
"Yes," Maya answered immediately. "There are a few fruits I'm interested in, but the descriptions on your website are still a little too brief. I'd like more detail before I decide."
She paused for a beat, then looked directly at him.
"Let's start with the Memo-Memo Fruit."
The Home of the Devil Fruits website had not been live for very long, but with Devil Fruits dominating every headline and social feed, the traffic had already exploded. People visited out of curiosity, greed, fear of missing out, and sometimes all three at once.
Maya Hansen was one of those visitors.
In fact, before ever stepping into the shop, she had carefully studied the online catalog. She had gone through it like a researcher reviewing experimental data, comparing options, narrowing variables, and cutting away anything that did not fit what she needed. By the time she came in, she was not browsing. She was selecting.
The Memo-Memo Fruit had made it onto her final list, and the reason was painfully simple.
She wanted to make amends.
When Maya had first worked with Aldrich Killian, she had not seen this version of him coming. She had never imagined he would become so cruel, so ambitious, and so consumed by power that he would twist Extremis into something monstrous. Even now, the thought sat heavy in her chest. The Extremis virus was not just a scientific failure. It was a human one, and she had helped create it.
She regretted it deeply.
But regret by itself was useless.
Maya was a scientist, not a soldier, not a spy, not a hero in armor. What could she really do against a man like Killian once he had built his network and wrapped himself in fear and violence? For a long time, the answer had been nothing. She endured the guilt, endured Killian's threats, and kept working under pressure while his "research" became more and more horrific. Human experiments. Lives ruined. People treated like disposable lab material.
She had been exhausted for a long time, mentally and emotionally drained, but none of that changed the reality. She had not had the power to stop him.
Not until Devil Fruits appeared.
Now there was another possibility, one she had not been able to stop thinking about.
What if she could erase Killian's memories related to Extremis?
What if she could overwrite them with something else, memories that pushed him toward restraint instead of obsession, toward empathy instead of cruelty, toward becoming a better man instead of a monster?
Then maybe… just maybe…
The Killian she remembered from the beginning, the poor but brilliant man who had once been awkward, passionate, and full of hope, could come back.
It was a desperate idea.
A dangerous one, too.
But for Maya Hansen, it was the first real path toward atonement she had seen in a very long time.
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Next Chapter: Memory or Purification?
Next Next Chapter: The Fruit That Purifies Evil
Next Next Next Chapter: A Front Row Seat to My Execution
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