Chapter 34: Heavy Armor, Light Damage
Seeing Vanessa's silence, Wilson Fisk immediately promised, "Darling, go home and wait for me. I'll be there within the hour."
Vanessa knew Wilson was involved in criminal enterprises, but she believed he was different from the brutal thugs that plagued Hell's Kitchen. The way he treated her with such genuine care and respect had earned her deep admiration.
As an intelligent woman, Vanessa understood the complexities of their relationship and chose to embrace this pure love he offered.
"Be careful out there," was all she could say.
"I will."
After a tender farewell kiss, Wilson tapped the roof of the car, signaling his driver to leave. He watched the luxury sedan disappear around the corner before leading his men toward a nearby alley, straightening his immaculate white suit as he walked.
Daredevil emerged from the shadows at the end of the dimly lit alley. Wilson approached calmly and said, "I've been hunting for you all over the city. Didn't expect you to come to me instead."
"Kingpin, I'm going to see you behind bars!" Daredevil whispered, connecting two short billy clubs into a single staff, which immediately reconfigured into nunchucks with fluid precision.
Seeing Daredevil's tactical display, Wilson sneered coldly and snapped his fingers twice. Several of his enforcers charged forward immediately.
THWIP!
As the two sides clashed, an arrow seemingly materialized from nowhere, piercing clean through one enforcer's shoulder blade.
Another followed instantly, embedding itself in a second man's calf muscle.
Daredevil, a master of multiple martial arts disciplines, spun his weapon in a blur of motion, systematically dropping the remaining attackers.
He aimed his reconstructed staff directly at Wilson Fisk in clear challenge.
Facing both the supremely skilled Daredevil and an archer concealed somewhere in the darkness, Wilson showed no fear whatsoever. Instead, a predatory grin spread across his face.
BOOM!
Wilson's massive fist cratered the brick wall beside him, sending fragments flying.
Daredevil immediately retreated, swinging his staff in a wide arc. Just as it was about to connect, the weapon separated at its center joint, the cable connection allowing the second half to whip around Wilson's blocking arm.
CRACK!
The nunchuck section struck Wilson squarely in the ribs, producing virtually no visible effect.
"Tonight you die, Daredevil!"
Daredevil barely evaded another devastating punch, retracting his weapon and reconnecting it into staff configuration.
THWIP! THUNK!
Another arrow flew from the rooftop shadows, striking Wilson center mass. The broadhead penetrated barely half an inch, failing to breach the muscle layer. Wilson glanced back dismissively, casually plucking the arrow from his torso before resuming his assault on Daredevil.
"You think one backup makes a difference? You're nowhere near my level!"
Hawkeye Barton, positioned on the adjacent rooftop, muttered under his breath: "Jesus, what the hell is this guy made of?"
Three minutes into the fight, Daredevil was clearly losing ground against Wilson's relentless offensive. Each successful hit sent waves of agony through his body. At this rate, he wouldn't survive much longer.
Hawkeye's standard arrows were proving completely ineffective, providing nothing more than minor distractions.
BOOM!
Daredevil, now bleeding from multiple wounds, was caught off-guard when Wilson exploited a defensive gap and drove him straight through the brick wall. As Wilson prepared to deliver a finishing blow, another arrow streaked toward him.
This projectile was noticeably different—slightly larger warhead with a small blinking red LED.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The explosive arrowhead detonated directly against Wilson's chest.
BOOM!
The blast launched Wilson backward, shredding his pristine white suit and leaving him smoking.
When he regained his footing, Daredevil had vanished from the alley.
"Damn you, Daredevil! I'll crush your skull eventually!"
Even with combined tactics, a close-quarters fighter and long-range marksman were no match for a human tank.
Wilson Fisk, remembering his commitment to Vanessa, returned home to shower and change into fresh clothes. En route to her apartment, he retrieved his phone and dialed a familiar number.
"Ryan, I'm being actively hunted. I need another enhancement."
Ryan was finishing dinner, celebrating Frank's successful revenge operation. But vengeance hadn't brought the satisfaction he'd expected. Instead, losing his primary objective left him feeling strangely hollow.
Frank stared into his wallet, the dim basement lighting obscuring his family photograph. The fire that had driven his quest for revenge was now extinguished, leaving only darkness behind.
In that moment, Frank seemed to blend seamlessly with the corroded pipes and mold-stained walls.
Ryan chose not to disturb Frank's grief, instead turning his attention to David.
"David, now that this operation's concluded, have you given any thought to your future plans?"
They'd touched on this topic before, and David had been considering his options. Life seemed like an endless series of complicated problems—a real headache.
David took a swig from his bottle and shook his head slowly. "I've got solid evidence now, and the primary suspects are eliminated. I just need to deliver everything to Agent Madani at Homeland Security, and my fugitive status should be cleared soon enough."
"And after that?"
"After that... I definitely can't return to Homeland Security. I'll need to find civilian work. Can't let Sarah carry the financial burden alone anymore."
Sarah was David's wife, who still believed he was dead.
Ryan opened a beer can. Given his enhanced metabolism, this alcohol content was barely noticeable. He drained half the bottle, wiped his mouth, and asked suddenly, "David, how would you feel about working for me permanently?"
"Working for you?" David looked surprised.
"Nothing too demanding. Just information gathering, surveillance operations, that sort of thing. You'd be home with your family most of the time, and the compensation would be substantial."
David answered without hesitation, "If that's really all it involves, absolutely. As long as the salary covers our expenses, I'm confident I can handle it."
Their partnership agreement was sealed with a toast.
Just as Ryan set down his drink, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID—Wilson Fisk.
He gave David a meaningful look, then stepped away to take the call privately.
"Ryan, I'm being actively hunted. I need another enhancement."
"Who's targeting you?" Ryan asked curiously.
Wilson Fisk was the undisputed king of New York's criminal underworld. He had police commissioners and city councilmen on his payroll, maintaining a public facade as a legitimate businessman and philanthropist. Under normal circumstances, no one would dare investigate him.
Wilson provided a brief account of the evening's attack.
After hearing the description, Ryan immediately identified the two combatants as Daredevil and Hawkeye Barton.
"How did those two end up working together? And why are they targeting Kingpin?" Ryan couldn't help wondering.
Daredevil was a street-level vigilante, while Hawkeye Barton was a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. There was only one logical explanation: they were investigating him!
If Kingpin was captured, Ryan would definitely become their next priority target.
With the third genetic enhancement protocol ready for deployment, Ryan considered his options carefully and formulated a strategy.
"Come see me tomorrow morning. Early."
"Understood."
Hearing Ryan's agreement, Wilson felt considerable relief.
All the money and resources he'd invested had one ultimate purpose: obtaining access to the enhanced serum. Especially after experiencing that incredible power firsthand, Wilson had become completely obsessed with it.
After ending the call, Ryan heard Frank's voice from behind him.
"He's a crime boss who's destroyed countless lives. Why are you helping him? You should be putting a bullet in his head."
After his family's murder turned him into the Punisher, Frank's worldview had become binary—kill or be killed. Now that his primary revenge was complete, he seemed to have no interest in anything except eliminating criminals.
Of course, he wasn't a psychopath with bloodlust. He simply believed that all criminals deserved death as the only true justice.
Ryan chuckled and asked, "Wilson Fisk is definitely a criminal, yes—but his crimes involve circumventing legal systems for power and profit. What about you, Frank?"
Frank snorted. "I don't circumvent the law. I ignore it completely."
End of Chapter 34
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