Chapter 22: Batman VS Daredevil
Even when facing those Hammerhead gang members who wanted to burn down the orphanage, Batman hadn't used Peter's full twenty-five tons of strength.
That would have turned them into ground meat, which wasn't his objective. He needed them alive to spread fear, so he'd simply broken most of the bones in their bodies.
Now in Hell's Kitchen, the afternoon sun glared harsh enough to blind anyone, yet in the shadows atop a rooftop, two figures—one black, one red—clashed with sudden violence, seemingly unaffected.
Crack! Crack!
Fists and feet collided several times each second, punctuated by grunts when blows connected.
Batman's suit was covered in rigid armor, but his opponent's twin batons cut shadowy arcs through the air. Within moments they'd exchanged dozens of moves, neither able to gain the upper hand.
As his forearm guard collided with a baton, both figures retreated several steps.
The fight looked intense, but both combatants were probing constantly, neither committing full force.
"Who are you? Why are you stopping me?" Batman asked, voice lowered.
"You can call me Daredevil." The man in the dark red suit tilted his head slightly. "Last night you came to Hell's Kitchen and shattered several people's bones. I'd like to know why."
Batman studied Daredevil closely. During their fight, he'd noticed the mask covered the eye area completely. This guy didn't need his eyes at all to precisely block every punch.
"They robbed a convenience store," Batman said.
"If that's all it was, maybe you didn't need to hit them quite so hard. Several of them are permanently paralyzed." Daredevil gripped his batons, slowly lowering his center of gravity into an attack stance again.
"They used alcohol stolen from that store to make Molotov cocktails. They were planning to burn down an orphanage." Batman watched him. "Still want to keep fighting?"
He'd been holding back his strength the entire time. His suit was nowhere near the quality of any version from the Batcave back in Gotham, and he hadn't used any gadgets or equipment yet.
But even so, Batman wouldn't mind another round to see who truly had superior skills.
After he finished speaking, Daredevil laughed.
"Ha, all right. You ruined my plan, but anyone would have stepped in to stop something like that."
"We'll have to spar another time. I need to get back to work."
He slid both batons into holsters on his outer thighs and turned to leave.
'Every time a fight ends, Barry Allen says something like that.' Batman thought.
Watching Daredevil's retreating form, Batman pulled a batarang from his utility belt—one he'd machined at the black market factory—and hurled it.
The batarang flew silently, reaching Daredevil's back in an instant.
Just before it would have struck flesh, Daredevil shifted slightly, dodging while simultaneously catching the batarang between his fingers.
"Just as I suspected. You have some ability to sense your surroundings without relying on your eyes."
Batman moved closer, slowly clenching his hands into fists.
"You just said burning the orphanage 'ruined your plan.' You need to explain that clearly."
Ting.
Daredevil opened his fingers, dropping the batarang. It clattered against the ground as he turned to face Batman again.
"I guided them to do it."
"I needed to spark a gang war and draw out their leaders."
Batman's mind immediately went to Kingpin, but he didn't voice the name. Instead he pressed the current issue.
"So you were planning to use those orphans as sacrificial pawns in your plan?"
Daredevil gave a short laugh.
"That orphanage moved out last week. If I did something like that to fight crime, God wouldn't forgive me."
Batman's expression didn't change. He'd already known what Daredevil claimed, but he had to be certain. He needed to hear Daredevil himself confirm the orphanage was already empty.
He couldn't tolerate this self-proclaimed Daredevil using innocent lives as collateral damage to fight crime without gathering proper intelligence first.
Without another word, Batman turned and jumped from the roof. The gliding apparatus—modified from a hang glider—deployed from his back, carrying him swiftly into New York's densely packed skyline.
"He's blind but possesses world-class combat skills. He's trying to manipulate gang warfare in Hell's Kitchen. No facial details, voice disguised like mine—can't determine his real identity."
"He seems to rely on senses other than sight to observe his surroundings. Similar to the spider-sense, but completely different from a danger-triggered reflex."
"Sonic weapons should be enough to incapacitate him."
Back at the abandoned shipyard, Batman changed into his flannel shirt.
"Can't determine Daredevil's motivation for wearing that suit yet. Personal vendetta against the gangs, or fighting crime like me?"
Batman shook his head slowly. He couldn't keep delaying. After arranging Dr. Octavius's research funding, he needed to prioritize manufacturing a full suite of equipment—sonar systems, detective mode, taser guns, listening devices, everything.
Including the Batmobile, the Batwing, and a Batcave to serve as his operations center.
Once he had those tools, no one would be able to hide their identity from him.
For now though, he needed to register a company.
New York's economy was bustling, with countless people applying to register companies. Normally it might take anywhere from days to months.
Fortunately, there was an expedited process available.
With money greasing the wheels, Batman obtained all the necessary documents within a few hours.
It was a shell company established under the pretense of AI technology research and development. Batman had no intention of actually developing AI tech himself—that would take too long to generate revenue. He couldn't afford to wait.
"Stark Tower," he told the taxi driver after flagging down a cab.
He planned to use portions of his previous AI technology to attract corporate partnerships in exchange for capital.
This didn't include the Alfred AI or Brother Eye—just the civilian-applicable technology he'd once used for the Batmobile, like intelligent obstacle recognition systems.
Countless New York companies might invest in such technology, but Batman ignored them all, selecting only Stark Industries.
Batman remembered clearly that Howard Stark's name had appeared in the CIA records regarding the Cosmic Cube.
This was a perfect opportunity to rapidly acquire funding while establishing contact with Stark Industries, potentially gaining access to information about the Cosmic Cube.
At a law office in Hell's Kitchen, Matt Murdock—having just shed his dark red suit for a business suit—adjusted a pair of dark red glasses and asked his colleague, "Foggy, did anyone come by with a case while I was gone?"
Foggy Nelson, Matt's classmate, colleague, and partner, spread his hands. "Come on, Matt, we've only taken one case since we opened this office. You were gone for like ten minutes—how could we possibly have gotten another case?"
"But seriously, if we don't get more cases soon, we won't be able to keep this office running."
Matt smiled faintly without responding, settling into his chair to contemplate the opponent he'd just faced—easily the most difficult, nearly untouchable adversary since he'd become Daredevil.
"His heartbeat and breathing stayed perfectly stable, even during intense combat. His fighting style incorporated every martial art I know, plus techniques I've never encountered before."
"Is he a friend or an enemy?"
***
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