Beneath the pitch-black night sky, Matt, a fan of skintight suits, wandered the streets of Hell's Kitchen.
Though he had already joined S.H.I.E.L.D. as a special agent,
once he recovered, Matt still liked coming here to patrol and, as a street-level hero, root out the crime.
But ever since the Church of Dagon had officially established itself here, the once-notorious Hell's Kitchen had changed dramatically.
It was as if an invisible light had gently swept across this neighborhood, once filled with darkness and chaos, leaving behind a peace and order unlike anything it had ever known.
In the past, nightfall turned the place into a criminal paradise. Or rather, crime only eased up a little during the day.
But things were different now. The gang wars that had raged for so long had vanished without a trace.
Once night fell, the people of Hell's Kitchen all headed to the church to pray.
It was a sight no one would have thought possible in the past. What Matt couldn't understand was why Kingpin, the true overlord of Hell's Kitchen, still hadn't made a move.
After all, the Church of Dagon's actions had thoroughly wrecked his business here.
Not one of his former underlings still acknowledged him. They had all turned to worship the Church of Dagon instead.
Matt's feelings were deeply conflicted. He was relieved to see Hell's Kitchen improving, yet deeply worried about the Church of Dagon.
To him, the Church of Dagon was an unequivocal cult, and his suspicions about it were as dense as the night.
This sort of fanatical, mindless church was even more frightening than the cults of the past, and the damage it could cause far surpassed that of the gangs.
Why did he call the Church of Dagon fanatical? Come on—how else could it have made those dark, ruthless gangs convert so willingly in such a short time?
Besides, Kingpin had been Hell's Kitchen's underground ruler for years. His influence was deeply rooted and could hardly be shaken overnight.
Kingpin's silence gave Matt a bad feeling. Beneath this calm, an even greater storm might be brewing.
"Kingpin won't just give up like that."
Matt thought to himself.
He must be plotting something in secret, waiting for the right moment to strike back.
Just then, Matt sensed what seemed to be an unusual figure arriving at the street corner.
Though he couldn't make out the person's features because he was blind, the oppressive force radiating from that direction made Matt shudder and his hair stand on end.
If he hadn't been sure it was a person, Matt would have thought a massive beast had come prowling.
The figure's footsteps were slow and heavy. Each step seemed to leave an almost imperceptible crack in the ground.
Matt immediately went on alert. Who knew what some "strange eccentric" like this was doing here? Perhaps he was a vanguard sent by Kingpin to deal with the Church of Dagon.
The alarm bells rang in Matt's mind. He knew that on a night full of unknown dangers, any disturbance could be a warning sign.
Relying on his keen instincts and years of combat experience, he quickly readied himself for the challenge ahead.
He quietly took a few steps back, trying to blend into the surrounding shadows, and reached for his waist to make sure his gear was intact.
The "strange eccentric" didn't seem to be about to attack. He simply stood there, sweeping his hooded gaze across the surroundings.
Matt could feel the oppressive force growing stronger and stronger, as if the very air were being compressed until it was hard to breathe.
"Come out, Daredevil. Your hiding skills are rather pathetic."
The low, resonant voice echoed through the quiet street, edged with mockery and provocation. His identity had clearly been exposed.
Matt slowly stepped out of the shadows to face the unknown enemy. He could sense the powerful aura radiating from him, a mixture of strength, cunning, and madness.
"Daredevil, this isn't a place for a third-rate nobody like you. I have no interest in slaughtering the weak. If you know what's good for you, get lost!"
The "strange eccentric" spoke with utter disdain and arrogance, as though Matt were nothing more than an insignificant speck in his eyes.
"Third-rate nobody?"
Matt's voice was low and firm as he slowly took a step forward.
"In Hell's Kitchen, no one who fights for justice should be looked down on. I may be insignificant in your eyes, but I, Daredevil, swear to protect every bit of peace on this land."
"Ha! You clown, you actually made me laugh. Once I rule this city, I might let you serve as my jester and entertain me every day."
The "strange eccentric's" laughter echoed down the empty street, brimming with arrogance and contempt. He seemed to have already claimed the city as his own, while Matt was nothing but a trivial source of amusement in the world he would rule.
"Rule this city? Who do you think you are, God?"
Matt's voice was cold and forceful. He slowly raised the billy club in his hand, the symbol of his fight and the weapon with which he upheld justice.
"I'm not God. The one I serve is God. I have come on a glorious mission. This city will kneel before the great Blood God, and I will be His only spokesman in this world!"
"His spokesman? The 'great Blood God' you speak of is nothing but an illusion meant to mislead people, manipulating innocents through fear and blind worship.
"In this day and age, no one stands above the law and justice, and no one has the right to call himself God."
Matt gave a cold laugh, mocking him with every word, but deep down he knew things were going badly.
The weirdo before him was almost certainly one of the monsters who worshipped the Blood God, the very army of monsters led by Red Hulk that the Director had told him about.
Apparently, the government had plans for them and wanted to gather various forces to hunt them down. But the troops hadn't even set out yet, and those people had already come knocking.
"Fine, fine, fine.
"If that's the case, Daredevil, then you'll be the first sacrifice I offer to the great Blood God since arriving here!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, the man's body suddenly burst into motion, lunging at Matt like a phantom.
He moved so fast that he completely surpassed human limits, as if some mysterious power had truly granted him strength.
Matt tried to dodge, but the man was far faster than he was. In an instant, he grabbed Matt by the throat.
The strength behind the grip was unbelievable. Matt swung his billy club, trying to make the man let go, but when he struck the man's hand, it didn't budge, as rigid as a pillar.
Just then, the church bells rang out in the distance. Their melodious notes seemed to hold some kind of magic, gradually calming the frenzied atmosphere of the fight.
Matt and the "strange eccentric" both stopped moving at the same time and turned toward the church.
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