When the blood-soaked Punisher crashed through the window, Matt Murdock, sitting on the couch, couldn't help but sigh...
He had told him to use the front door, so why did he always have to climb through the window...
"Could you please not—"
The moment he smelled the pungent metallic scent of blood, Matt's expression changed abruptly.
The teasing remark he had been about to make died in his throat. He quickly helped the heavily breathing Punisher onto the sofa and then rummaged through the house for the portable medical kit containing hemostatic bandages and antiseptic iodine.
In the past, Matt would don the red devil's costume every night and patrol Hell's Kitchen, searching for traces of illegal gangs and street thugs. Back then, getting injured was as commonplace to him as eating a meal.
Though blind, Matt possessed superhuman senses far more acute than those of ordinary people.
The Punisher's body was covered in knife wounds; long, narrow cuts crisscrossing his flesh, the blood soaking through his black skull-print T-shirt. When had Hell's Kitchen gained another master of cold weapons?
Suppressing his questions, Matt tended to the nearly unconscious Punisher's wounds, performing some basic first aid. He had already decided to abandon his identity as Daredevil and leave his old life behind.
But he and the Punisher had once been comrades fighting on the same side. They both despised crime and wanted to change Hell's Kitchen through their own strength... the Punisher driven by rage over his lost family, and Matt by his sense of justice...
...
"Matt..."
After what felt like an eternity, the Punisher opened his eyes, his consciousness gradually clearing from the fog of unconsciousness.
His body bore at least a dozen wounds, and he had lost a significant amount of blood. If not for his robust physique, he would have long been sent to the hospital morgue.
"I don't want to hear about any criminal organizations, Frank," Matt said, sitting in the darkness, "I've finally managed to live a peaceful life, to forget the identity of Daredevil... The only reason I took you in, treated your wounds, and didn't immediately send you to the police or the hospital is that we were once friends. So don't drag me back into that vortex of crime!"
Matt sat in the dark, as if already knowing what the Punisher was about to say. He didn't want to be pulled back into that filthy, evil whirlpool.
Hell's Kitchen had always been like this. He had once believed Wilson Fisk was the root of all its problems, but even after the Kingpin's fall, crime hadn't diminished, instead, it had grown fiercer.
The gangs fought like rabid dogs over territory...
"Matt, has the anger in your heart truly disappeared?!" The Punisher struggled to sit up on the sofa, his perpetually furious eyes fixed on the shadowed figure in the darkness.
"Your father was called 'Battlin' Jack Murdock'. To make a living, he had no choice but to fight in matches rigged by mob bosses. Sometimes, they ordered him to throw fights to help the gangs profit. That night, when you wanted to watch your father's match, he defied the mob's orders and won. And what happened then...?"
"Shut up, Frank!" Matt roared, his voice thick with suppressed rage.
"...He was killed by the mob. Died in a back alley! The law you believe in didn't bring the murderer to justice because that bastard bribed the cops and threatened the jury. Even with ironclad evidence, he walked free after committing murder!"
"When the law fails to deliver justice, we take matters into our own hands. Isn't that why you became Daredevil in the first place? So why are you retreating like a coward now?!"
The Punisher fired back without backing down, his low, gravelly voice filled with endless pain and fury. He hated criminals, wanted to send every last one of them to hell!
"I'm not like you..." Matt murmured, as if suddenly drained of strength.
He had tried using his abilities to uphold justice, only to lose the woman he loved... Elektra, killed by the Hand...
His friend Foggy had left the law firm, growing distant. Karen, who had stayed by his side, had eventually left too. Wearing the mask of Daredevil meant shouldering a crushing weight of responsibility and sacrifice. Matt was tired. He couldn't keep going.
"Elektra is alive," Seeing Matt's defeated demeanor, the Punisher dropped this bombshell, "She's working with the Hand, taking orders from some woman. And she's stronger than before, strong enough that I couldn't beat her!"
"Elektra was stabbed through the heart by a Hand assassin. She died in my arms. Stick and I buried her together... And now you're telling me she's alive, and with the very people who killed her?" Matt's voice trembled with anger.
Watching the woman he loved die in his arms had left an eternal wound in his heart, "Frank, we may be friends, but don't joke about Elektra!"
"You think I'm lying to you? Every wound on my body was made by your beloved Elektra's katana. She's not the woman you remember anymore, Matt. The Hand calls her 'Black Sky'... Her body has been taken over by something else, she's become a cold-blooded killing machine now!"
The Punisher swayed as he stood, walking to the fridge and pulling out a beer. The icy liquid poured down his throat, cooling the rage of the heavily bandaged man just slightly.
"Matt, the Hand is planning something big. Beneath their new stronghold (Midland Circle Financial) there's a massive pit. That 'earthquake' in Hell's Kitchen? It was caused by them. If we don't stop this, who knows what kind of catastrophe they'll unleash? A war is coming. We need to fight for Hell's Kitchen!"
The Punisher told Matt everything he knew. He wanted his old friend to put on the red devil's suit once more, to become Daredevil again and stand with him against the Hand's schemes.
"Put on that mask. Fight with me to save Hell's Kitchen, to save your Elektra!"
Matt remained silent. He closed his sightless eyes as long-buried memories flooded back... growing up in the orphanage, training under Stick, getting into Columbia University, vowing to become a great lawyer...
The images flashed through his mind like fleeting shadows. After graduating, Matt had learned that while the law itself might be impartial, its enforcers were not. The world was full of injustice and darkness. A blind lawyer couldn't stand against capitalists who could hire entire legal teams, nor could he bring down mob bosses who colluded with the police.
So he had put on a mask. Using his superhuman senses and the combat skills Stick had taught him, he became Hell's Kitchen's red devil, making life hell for gangsters and thugs.
"Frank... maybe you're right. If you want peace, you have to be ready for war." Matt rose from the darkness.
He opened a hidden compartment in the living room, revealing the red suit and the horned mask within.
As he donned the Daredevil suit once more, Matt turned to the Punisher, "Do we have any other allies? The two of us alone won't be enough against the Hand."
The heavily bandaged Punisher let out a hoarse chuckle, his voice like grinding metal, "Of course. Hell's Kitchen has more heroes than just you."
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