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Well, now that I had a space to work with, there were many things to… acquire. I needed power down here, first of all, then computers, internet access, and materials to work with. It was high time I put Winston to work doing what he did best: inventing tech while eating bananas and peanut buŧŧer. The hangover from overtaxing Resonance before was still on my mind. There was a chance that I could improve my uptime and Resonance strength without suffering like that in the future. But it was nowhere near guaranteed. If I was going to fight for several hours in the battle of New York, I was going to have to spend some of my time just as myself. Besides, I was guaranteed some moments of vulnerability anyways, so I might as well have something ready for those times.

As I made my way back home after sealing the speakeasy back up, I tried to think of ways to get what I needed. I could probably get various electronics pieces by dumpster diving around computer shops. But getting enough to make a decent and functioning computer would then be a matter of luck. As for going the more conventional way, I didn't have that kind of money. Besides, I didn't want anyone to be able to connect anything to me.

So that left stealing. I certainly had the skills to do so, it was just a matter of where and who to steal from. Suddenly, I remembered the Russian's address that I had gotten on the night of my rampage at the docks. Perhaps he could help me out.

If he couldn't, he could probably point me to someone who could.

The next night, I went out again and used Pharah to fly to Hell's Kitchen. It was time to do some "shopping." First, I patrolled the building tops, looking again for drug dealers and other thugs. A few strikes as Genji, Reaper, or Soldier quickly ended their business for the night. That was a good warm up, but it was time to see a Russian.

I walked up to the address that I had been given. I was a little nervous, as this trip could turn into a combat mission again. If possible, I didn't want to lose myself and go on a killing spree again. But it had to be done if I was going to keep preparing for the future.

I walked up to the door and knocked. Immediately, I went into Resonance with Reaper. A second later, someone came to the door. I hid away from the peephole on the door so an empty hallway was all that could be seen through it. From this point, one of two things would happen: either he would open the door looking for who had "ding-dong ditched," or he would just ignore it and turn back away.

Either way, I had a good way to make an entrance.

After a few seconds and a rude shout through the door in Russian, it was clear that this guy was going for the latter option. So, it was going to be the hard way. Oh, well. Reaper had experience kicking doors down too.

Which I did.

As fate would have it, due to Reaper's supersoldier serum enhanced body, the door flew off its hinges, knocking the man to the floor and falling on top of him.

"Knock knock," I said with Reaper's gravelly voice. I walked across the door and his body and into the apartment. It was rather well kept. More proof that this guy was a little higher up the food chain than your average street thug. This guy just had to know a lot and have some connections.

Then I noticed a computer in the corner. Looked pretty good considering the year we were in. Who knew what this guy was using it for? Probably pȯrn. And perhaps keeping records of illegal activity. Maybe Minesweeper. I wasn't sure if there was going to be any worth in taking the thing. Then again, it's not like I needed a supercomputer straight away- I was going to be a local hero until going public with the Avengers. Unless of course, something else happened before then.

But that shouldn't happen, right? I knew the future, after all.

But I digress.

"Talk quickly and I'll be on my way. Where can I find the Hand? Do you know Wilson Fisk? Or do you know him as the Kingpin? Where do the drugs come from?"

He actually had the nerve to look at me defiantly. Bold. Mistakenly loyal. I materialized a shotgun and fired it into his ankle. Not fatal at all, but I'm sure being eaten alive by Reaper's nanites wouldn't be comfortable.

"You're going to tell me everything in the next five minutes or I'll start shooting higher. How many shots do you think your legs will last? And do you really want me to shoot higher than your legs?"

Turns out, all I had to do to make him talk was let Reaper speak his mind. It was nice having a self-declared high functioning psychopath for threatening people.