Wesley has been extremely overwhelmed lately. Forming an alliance with the Hand's Five Fingers has complicated everything, making his head spin with all the tasks.
Fisk's personality means he's not the type to treat allies well. Therefore, in the end, dividing the spoils is a must: what can be used as leverage, what poison should be given to the other party, and where to insert a mole—all of this falls on Wesley to handle.
And just when everything is in chaos, a lunatic decides to stir things up!
Normally, this wouldn't be much of an issue—ordinary people don't dare to provoke Kingpin, but that doesn't mean he has no enemies.
There are always enemies, lurking in the shadows or the open.
But he's never encountered one like this!
This guy drifts in wearing a tattered cloth, causing chaos, flushing all the goods into the sewers without fear of getting caught by the DEA!
The gang members stationed there were either dead or severely injured, with hardly anyone making it out in one piece!
Good thing they're gangsters! Otherwise, the work injury compensation would be astronomical!
And then?
Then, that kid just vanished!
Wesley had prepared everything, secretly dispatching a lot of people, even employing the newly recruited Bullseye.
If it weren't for the fear of losing face, he would have asked the Hand for some reinforcements!
He waited anxiously for a whole week, and nothing—no sign of him!
Young people these days have no sense of honor!
You can be a thief for a thousand days, but you can't guard against a thief for a thousand days. Just wasting time like this is not an option. Everyone has to go to work tomorrow! Where's the civic-mindedness?!
So, Wesley gradually withdrew the extra manpower that had been concentrated there.
And wouldn't you know it, the day after they pulled back, no new enemies appeared—but old friends did!
"F#&!s###!d###!"
Can life just go smoothly for once? I'm just doing some violent evictions, selling some "laundry powder," so what? Why do I attract so much hate?!
As Wesley sat in his office cursing, a small gang leader pushed the door open and walked in.
"Mr. Wesley..."
That expression and tone meant nothing good.
Rubbing his temples, Wesley felt like life was really too tough.
"Let me guess, you didn't catch him, did you?"
The tone was just like Kingpin's. Wesley realized that human emotions often connect in similar ways.
Like the moment before a volcano erupts—calm like a frozen lake, but hiding a raging storm beneath.
Just like he was now.
No answer.
Sometimes, no answer is an answer in itself.
He waved the unlucky guy away.
Without caring about the look of relief on the man's face, Wesley wondered if he should tell Kingpin about this.
Technically speaking, with the trust Kingpin had in him, he could make any decision on his own, of course, as long as it didn't go against Kingpin's wishes.
Wesley knew that.
On another note, he could just push the blame onto the guys doing the grunt work.
After all, he's like a strategist; he doesn't fight on the front lines. Planning is his job, but how it's executed isn't his concern.
Loosening his tie, he put his feet up on the desk.
He needed to think this through carefully.
…
Leon had a very regular routine these days.
In the morning, he went to eat breakfast at Ezza's mom's restaurant and took the opportunity to ask about the fennel beans.
At noon, he cleaned the house, clearing away the aftermath of his workouts.
In the afternoon, he took a nap. After all, exhaustion is a great aid to sleep. After waking up, he'd put on his gear and head to the suburbs to test his skills, equipment, and himself.
He'd return at midnight, and YaYa Le would treat his injuries.
That's pretty much how he spent the past ten or so days.
Leon's reasoning? Firstly, out of caution. Before becoming invincible like some bald-headed figure, he needed to be thoroughly familiar with his abilities and know his limits. Only then could he take risks more confidently.
Otherwise, if he charged forward recklessly with false confidence and got himself killed, wouldn't that be embarrassing?
Taking risks should be measured!
Otherwise, it's not risking; it's throwing away your life!
Secondly, out of prudence, of course.
Having taken down two hideouts in a row, anyone with common sense would prepare for retaliation. In such a case, why let the enemy get their way?
Hide out! Just take it easy for a few days.
If you're bold, you soar; if you're cautious, you retreat underground. The combination of boldness and caution means you could dominate with ease, becoming invincible!
After over ten days, Leon was thoroughly familiar with his current strength.
According to his own estimation, taking on an enemy of Kingpin's level should be more than enough.
Ready, Leon waited for the night to fall.
...
Matt Murdock staggered down a desolate street.
Normally, he could use his batons to leap between buildings, but the wound under his ribs was too painful, forcing him to move like this.
He escaped into a small alley blocked by a huge dumpster. Matt couldn't hold on any longer. Clenching his teeth to suppress his cries of pain, he grabbed the edge of the dumpster. With a grunt, he pulled himself up!
Under normal circumstances, he would have just flipped over it. But he underestimated the injury under his ribs, and he ended up falling inside.
Struggling to climb out of the dumpster, he made his way to the alley's depths.
Thankfully, there wasn't anything disgusting in there.
"Good thing no one saw that..."
Even Daredevil has his moments of embarrassment.
Needing a temporary break, he made sure he'd lost Bullseye. But this clearly wasn't the place to treat a wound.
He still needed to go home, but... this time, there was no way he could hide it from Foggy and Karen...
Matt had been injured before; it's the price of being Daredevil.
But most of his previous injuries were just cuts and bruises, easily hidden under his clothes, and the ones on his face he could explain away by saying he'd been attacked by some street punks. Foggy had always bought it.
This time, it was different.
He touched his side, where Bullseye's throwing knife was still lodged under his rib.
Matt sighed. His luck was truly down. What was supposed to be a routine recon mission turned into a mess just like any other time.
Unexpectedly, as he neared a stack of containers at the docks, he was suddenly ambushed!
In the chaos, he managed to escape underwater. But just as he resurfaced, two throwing knives and a rock came flying at him.
"Whoa! An old friend?! I thought you'd escape in the other direction!"
Bullseye had anticipated him!
Knowing he couldn't drag out the fight, Matt figured he'd be pinned down and unable to handle Bullseye if reinforcements arrived. This maniac certainly wouldn't care about friendly fire!
Taking a stab wound as the price, Matt kicked Bullseye into the water and made his escape.
Now that things were quiet, Matt had some time to reflect on tonight's strange and unfortunate turn of events.
Thinking back, the well-prepared enemies and Bullseye's surprised but unsurprised remark gave Matt a pretty good idea of what had happened.
"Did I just stumble into someone else's trap and set off their landmine?"
Sigh!
With a helpless chuckle, Matt leaned against the wall and stood up, deciding against going to a hospital. "A long illness makes the patient a good doctor," after all. Over the past two years, he had been injured almost daily, accumulating injuries upon injuries. He had gotten used to it and could handle basic wound care himself.
But this time, the wound was somewhat severe!
"How am I supposed to hide this from Foggy and Karen?!" That was his real concern.
Maybe he should just go into hiding for a few days?
While considering how to keep his Daredevil identity secret from his friends, he slowly made his way out of the alley.
There shouldn't be any…
"Hey, man! You're bleeding!"
He whipped around, "looking" up and to the side!
Even though Matt was blind, his other senses were incredibly heightened. Usually, he still carried a cane, but that was just for show. At night, he could nimbly move across rooftops!
But on this quiet night, he hadn't heard any footsteps!
Splat!
Sure enough! This person… was flying!
"Hey, buddy, you're really dedicated! Out here dressed up all weird and covered in blood, trying to scare kids this late at night!"
Matt: …
"Does it hurt? Wow, it looks painful just watching you! Look, look! You're still bleeding! Oh! Right, you can't see!"
Matt: …
"So, uh, don't mind the way I look now. Back in the day, your uncle here was a famous doctor! Just ask around the East Side—who doesn't know me… uh… actually, nobody knows. Even when I neutered little kitties, I'd do it secretly!"
"Hehehehe…"
Matt: …
What the heck are you giggling about?!
If you're sick, get treatment! If not... well, this guy doesn't look like he's healthy!
*The contract has been signed and sent out, but hasn't been returned yet. Rest assured and keep following!*
*(End of Chapter)*