Selling Devil Fruits in the Marvel Universe

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To Rosh, the sudden appearance of Crossbones was nothing more than a minor inconvenience—an insignificant blip in an otherwise uneventful moment.

The agent's presence barely registered in his mind, and by the time Crossbones stormed out of the Home of the Devil Fruits, grumbling under his breath, Rosh had already dismissed him entirely. There was no need to dwell on someone so inconsequential. At his current level, Hydra wasn't even a concern worth entertaining.

As far as Rosh was concerned, if Hydra knew what was good for them, they'd stay in their lane and avoid provoking him. He had no interest in wasting time on them. But if they were foolish enough to test his patience—to make the mistake of crossing a line—they would be dealt with swiftly and without mercy.

Just like Madam Gao and the Hand.

If Hydra was looking for a warning, they'd find it in the ruins of those who had already fallen. And if Alexander Pierce thought himself exempt from that lesson, he would learn the hard way that Rosh did not tolerate threats.

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"Devil Fruits? What kind of weird name is that?"

"Hah! Gotta admit, the name is intriguing. Clever marketing." 

"Wait... they only take gold? What kind of scam is this?"

"Pfft, what a joke. I'm outta here."

A steady stream of curious customers trickled into the shop after Crossbones' grumbling exit. Some scoffed at the bizarre concept, brushing it off as a gimmick. Others showed a fleeting spark of interest, only for their enthusiasm to evaporate the moment they heard the price—or the fact that only gold was accepted as payment. A few stormed out, grumbling about scams and rip-offs, convinced they had just walked into the strangest store in town.

Not a single one of them made a purchase.

Rosh remained unfazed. He had long adopted a "take it or leave it" stance when it came to selling these fruits. He had no intention of convincing skeptics, nor did he feel the need to explain their worth.

The Devil Fruits weren't just rare—they were priceless. Those who understood their true value wouldn't hesitate. Those who scoffed and walked away? They weren't worth his time.

These fruits literally cost their weight in gold, and if someone couldn't recognize their worth, the loss was entirely theirs.

"Excuse me, is this the shop that sells Devil Fruits?"

The question came from a man who radiated danger like a storm brewing on the horizon. A rugged figure stepped through the shop's doors as the day edged toward lunchtime. His movements were calm and controlled—like a predator sizing up its surroundings. His presence alone was enough to make most men uneasy, but Rosh wasn't most men.

'Wait a second… The Punisher.'

A slow, intrigued smile tugged at Rosh's lips. Frank Castle. A one-man war machine. If he was interested in a Devil Fruit, then every criminal in the world had just been handed a death sentence.

Frank Castle wasn't just ruthless—he was absolute.

He didn't believe in half-measures and didn't waste words. He wasn't a vigilante playing hero. He was a force of nature, delivering final judgment to those he deemed beyond redemption. And now, here he was, standing in Rosh's shop, searching for something that could make him even deadlier. 

Rosh straightened, his professional demeanor slipping into place as he met Castle's gaze head-on. "Welcome, customer. Are you here to buy a Devil Fruit? If so, you've come to the right place."

His voice was smooth and polite—yet beneath it was the sharp edge of curiosity. Castle wasn't here by accident. He had already heard about the Devil Fruits. He had come with a purpose.

And Rosh had been right.

For the past few months, Castle had been waging war against Hell's Kitchen's criminal underbelly with brutal efficiency, systematically dismantling Wilson Fisk's empire. Unlike the timeline where Daredevil had briefly toppled Kingpin—only for chaos to fill the void—Fisk still held the reins in this altered reality. But Castle was doing more damage than even Daredevil had in his prime.

And Fisk? He wasn't the type to take it lying down.

That was how Castle found himself face-to-face with one of Fisk's deadliest assets—Bullseye. The assassin had always been dangerous, a perfect shot with an inhuman ability to turn anything into a lethal weapon. But this time, Castle had witnessed something that should have been impossible.

Bullseye had transformed his hands into blades, slicing through gunfire as if bullets were nothing more than an inconvenience. Castle had seen a lot of insane things in his time, but this? This defied logic. And if there was one thing Frank Castle couldn't stand, it was not knowing what he was up against.

His investigation eventually led him here.

"So," Castle said, his voice flat but probing, "what's the deal with these Devil Fruits?" His dark eyes locked onto Rosh, sharp and unyielding. "Never heard of anything like 'em before."

Rosh met his gaze with a calm, knowing smile. "Devil Fruits are miraculous items that grant their users supernatural abilities," he explained smoothly. "I assume you've heard the rumors? Well, I can assure you, they're true."

Castle's jaw tightened. The memory of Bullseye's shifting hands flickered in his mind. He had spent weeks trying to find an explanation—mutant ability, cybernetics, trick weapons—but nothing fit. And yet, what Rosh was saying did.

Still, Frank Castle didn't buy into fairy tales.

"I've heard things," he admitted, his tone skeptical. "But how do I know this ain't just a load of crap?"

Rosh chuckled, unfazed by the doubt. "Ah, a cautious man. I respect that," he said easily. "No problem—this shop offers a trial service. Choose any fruit from the catalog, and you'll get to experience its power for five minutes. That should be enough to answer your doubts."

Castle's eyes narrowed slightly. He wasn't a man who trusted easily, but he wasn't a fool either. He knew an opportunity when he saw one.

After a beat, he gave a slow nod. "Alright. Let's see what you've got."

Rosh casually handed over the fruit catalog, watching as Castle flipped through the pages. The Punisher was a hardened man, but even he seemed mildly amused by the sheer variety of Devil Fruits on offer.

'Silent-Silent Fruit? Push-Push Fruit? Boing-Boing Fruit?' Castle nearly scoffed at some of the names. It all sounded like something out of a bad comic book. But then, his eyes landed on something that caught his interest.

"This one." He tapped the page with his finger. "The Arms-Arms Fruit." "According to this, it lets you turn your body into any weapon, right?"

Rosh's expression didn't change, but inwardly, he approved of the choice. "Good pick," he said smoothly. "And yes, that one allows you to transform any part of your body into a weapon."

This fruit was a natural fit for a man like Frank Castle—who had spent his entire life mastering firearms, blades, and just about anything that could be used to kill.

Without hesitation, Rosh retrieved a small sample of the Arms-Arms Fruit and handed it over. Castle examined the strange-looking fruit briefly before biting into it without a second thought.

The first chew. The second. He swallowed.

No reaction. No grimace. No hesitation.

Most people gagged or struggled against the Devil Fruit's notoriously awful taste, but Castle? He took it like a soldier downing rations in the field.

Rosh raised a brow, mildly impressed. "Most people flinch after the first bite," he noted.

Castle remained silent, his expression unreadable. He wasn't here to discuss taste—he was here for results.

"Alright, I've eaten it. Now, what hap—wait..." Castle's voice trailed off as he felt a strange sensation.

A strange, almost electrifying sensation coursed through his body, something foreign yet... intuitive. It was as if his body had been upgraded with an invisible arsenal, as though hidden weapon systems had been integrated into his very being, waiting to be deployed at his command.

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Next Chapter: Ghost of Vengeance and Justice

Next Next Chapter: The Ambush on Tony Stark and the Dawn of a New Era

Next Next Next Chapter: The First Battle Between Devil Fruit Users

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