White walls, white sheets, white...
White, my foot! Matt can't see a damn thing!
After waking up, Daredevil Matt Murdock took three seconds to calm his thoughts, ten seconds to assess his situation, and the remaining time to sink into a whirlwind of chaotic memories.
"I wasn't..."
Matt was at a loss about his suddenly missing memories, and he realized that something was very wrong!
"Hey! You're awake! How much bootleg booze did you drink? Slept for so long!" A voice from below—more precisely, from downstairs—rang out from a stranger.
For some reason, even though Matt was sure he didn't recognize the voice, just hearing it made him inexplicably annoyed!
He shook his head, and with the help of the voice from downstairs, his memories started to come back...
...
"What exactly do you want? Do we have a grudge?"
Matt spoke calmly but urgently, "Whatever you're planning, I don't have time to waste on your nonsense. If this is revenge, then do me a favor and make it quick. If it's not, I'm seriously injured. Please let me go."
There's a saying: When a person holding a sword suddenly starts to reason with you, it only means one thing—you have an even sharper sword.
Indeed.
Though Matt was gravely injured, Daredevil's reputation wasn't earned by just donning a suit and going out at night to beat up a couple of drunkards. If he were dealing with an ordinary person, he'd have already taken them down and been long gone.
But this wasn't an ordinary situation.
Matt knew very well that, while he might have been caught off guard, it was nearly impossible for a regular person to get this close to him in the dead of night without him noticing.
And although most of Matt's enemies were ordinary people, he wasn't oblivious to the peculiarities in this world during his years of prowling the night.
Indeed, there are many extraordinary people in the world. So, a person who could fly wasn't surprising to Matt.
But still, so what?
Just because you can fly doesn't mean you can withstand a punch or a baton!
While the guy babbled on and on, Matt decisively launched an attack, but...
Nothing came of it.
The guy dodged with an agility that was inhuman! After several failed attempts, Matt couldn't help but feel even more panicked. In moments like these, prolonged combat would be suicidal.
Escape!
Feigning an attack, he turned and bolted the moment the guy sidestepped!
And then... nothing.
Somehow, that guy managed to whoosh right in front of him and blocked his escape route without even making a move. He just stood there.
The pain under his ribs and the weakness in his calf muscles constantly reminded Matt that he was bleeding out.
As a top student and a member of a special profession—a hero!—Matt had some understanding of the kinds of situations he might face and was prepared for them.
Among all the possible ways to die, bleeding to death was the one he least wanted to experience.
So, Matt said what he did. He also knew that if that person wanted to kill him, today would likely be the day of his demise.
The guy wouldn't even need to attack him; he could just stand there and watch.
And so, it became a standoff between the two of them.
"Hmm? What are you thinking?"
Leon was puzzled, too.
I said I was a good guy and that I'd treat your wounds at a 20% discount, so why is he acting like this?
In this bright, moonlit, shady alley, with me descending from the sky in such dashing attire, how do I not look like a good guy?
"Uh... yeah."
"Look, we have no grudge, and I don't want to hurt you. Otherwise, I would've done it already, right?"
Not giving Matt time to reply, Leon continued, "The reason I'm here is to stir up some trouble for Kingpin and add a bit of hassle to his otherwise mundane life. Whether you believe me or not, I believe myself."
Seeing Matt sweating more profusely, Leon uncharacteristically grew serious, "Judging by your condition, you must've taken the stuff originally intended for me."
Matt: You #(!)&[]!!!
"When I saw you were hurt, out of guilt and sympathy, I wanted to help treat you. No need to thank me; I really am a doctor."
...
Maybe it was the sincerity in Leon's voice, or maybe it was because he really had no other choice. After weighing his options, Matt finally nodded, "Then, please do."
"Oh, come on! We're friends! No need to be so formal!" Leon replied cheerfully.
"Twenty percent off! And if I overcharge by a single cent, feel free to report me to Kingpin! Over there, it's finger amputations for splinters, full amputations below the eyebrows for headaches, and full thigh amputations for split-stream urination. I've taken care of all that, nice and clean!"
"Uncle Leon, here, loves money... I mean, loves helping friends! As long as you pay enough, I can even toss in an appendectomy for free!"
"First, I need to give you some anesthesia. Get ready! You see, every organ God gave us serves a purpose. If you didn't have an appendix, how would I make money off you? Am I right or what?"
Matt was already suffering from blood loss and low oxygen to his brain, which made him a bit sluggish. And Leon's rapid-fire, Chinese-style English was hard to understand, even with Matt's excellent hearing—he could barely catch something about limbs flying everywhere.
And was there something about an appendix in there?!
He won't harvest my kidney, will he?!
Just as he was groggily pondering this "anesthesia," he heard Leon shout out with a voice as loud as thunder and full of energy.
"Take this! Physical Anesthesia Technique!!"
His nose suddenly hurt, and Matt lost consciousness.
...
At this point, Matt had remembered everything.
He touched his nose. Ouch!
There was still some tissue stuffed in his nostrils.
So that's your so-called anesthesia technique, huh?
No wonder it was "physical"! At least hit my head or the back of my neck, for crying out loud!
Holding a grudge, huh!
Reaching up, he felt the leather mask still on his head, which meant his identity hadn't been exposed. Then again, it was also possible that this weirdo saw his face and put the mask back on afterward.
He'd dodged a bullet—for now!
Matt carefully reached for the wound under his ribs, thinking that this person might very well have taken his kidney to sell!
Under the battle suit, which had been slashed open, Matt touched his own skin.
The wound... was gone!
Thump, thump, thump.
Leon walked up the creaky wooden stairs.
They were in an abandoned house, long since dilapidated from neglect. The environment here was clearly not suitable for any real surgery.
But using a toothbrush or something? Not a problem. And besides, superheroes tend to be quite tough—usually not easy to kill—so there was no need to worry.
After coming upstairs, Leon didn't say a word. He just stood quietly at the top of the stairs, while Matt, lost in thought, kept silent as well.
For a while...
"Tha..."
"Thanks for the fifty cents."
... Huh?
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If you think it's decent, please give me a few votes. This is a new book from a new author, and that's really important.
Also: Happy holidays, everyone. After a busy day, the author picks up the phone with one hand.
(The End of Chapter)