Daredevil

About twenty minutes had passed...

The phone rang.

Heisenberg glanced at it—Barbara.

Right.

He hung up without a second thought. It was probably about him throwing ice at that reporter.

Boring. He'd let his team handle it.

S.H.I.E.L.D. got the hint. Since Heisenberg had hung up, they didn't bother him again.

The news was in an uproar, and citizens for and against Heisenberg were brawling outside City Hall, but none of it disturbed his rest.

He slept until around four in the afternoon, then stirred awake.

He was too lazy to move—basking in the sun felt way too good.

He even wanted to go chill inside the sun for a while.

But he wasn't sure yet if his body, strengthened by sunlight for only about a week, could handle the heat and radiation inside.

One day, though, Heisenberg would definitely go play in the sun to his heart's content!

And his plans went far beyond that.

If he ever got the chance to visit some world with gods, could he become the Sun God and turn the sun into a toy he carried around?

But that was still too far off. For now, Heisenberg just wanted to harvest Origin Matter on Marvel Earth.

After waking up, he soaked up the sun as usual and started thinking about the future.

Over the past few days, he'd considered many ways to change the fate of everyone on Earth.

At first, he thought about finding some strong opponents to bring to Earth and staging a desperate battle.

In the process, he could shatter the planet's core, forcing humanity to survive in space.

Changing the fate of seven or eight billion people in an instant—why not?

But considering certain big shots hidden on Marvel Earth...

Like The Ancient One, who everyone kept muttering about...

In the end, Heisenberg scrapped that idea.

Still, while he gave up on destroying Earth, he didn't abandon the plan to send humanity into space.

If he couldn't destroy Earth to force them out, he'd try gentler methods.

He thought it over and set his sights on Asgard for now.

What if he used Asgard's Bifrost to launch a Nine Realms development plan for Earth?

If it worked, at least forty to fifty percent of humanity's fate would be changed.

But then he thought about Odin—old, yet always seeming to hide his true power...

Fighting and killing was pointless. Harmony came first. He'd play nice for two years, wait until Odin died.

Going by the movie plot, after Odin's death, the Goddess of Death, Hela, would emerge.

If he could convince or charm Hela, couldn't he use Asgard's millennia of resources unconditionally?

That was just one proposal. Heisenberg had better ideas.

For example, finding The Collector in space and selling himself!

Right—he was the universe's only Kryptonian. Wasn't that valuable?

Besides, The Collector would only want his body after he died. Let him wait—how could Heisenberg ever die?

After selling himself, he'd buy and steal countless ships to send back to Earth!

No need to say more. Once Heisenberg handed those ships to governments worldwide, humanity would leave the Solar System within six months and attack the Milky Way Galaxy in three years!

Humans were that greedy—or was it ambitious?

Anyway, Heisenberg had already mapped out countless plans in his mind. He just needed the right moment to start executing them.

Starting from Earth, then radiating across the universe—within twenty years, he'd be drowning in Origin Matter!

Ding!

Just as he was thinking, the villa door opened.

Heisenberg turned to look. It was someone he didn't recognize.

But this guy was carrying his most loyal underling—Bullseye!

"Oh, impressive. You caught Bullseye just like that?"

"That's right, Heisenberg!"

The man spoke as he tossed Bullseye in front of Heisenberg.

"Since you killed Kingpin, it proves you still have a sense of justice. So why did you keep supporting Bullseye's gang war in Hell's Kitchen afterward?"

As the oddly dressed figure issued his accusation, Bullseye landed with a splat, even bouncing a couple of times.

Heisenberg nudged Bullseye's stomach with his foot—no reaction at all.

He took another whiff of the strange smell on Bullseye...

"A hefty dose of ether. Were you trying to take out both me and Bullseye in one go?"

Heisenberg asked with interest, but the moment his words fell, the oddly dressed man spun around and bolted.

He probably hadn't expected that his prepped knockout drugs would have zero effect.

In an instant, the man reached the edge of the rooftop and leaped off without hesitation.

Midair, he spread his costume—concealed behind it was a collapsible glider.

"Ha, interesting!"

With that, Heisenberg launched himself into the air and in a flash was right behind the guy.

Grabbing the glider with one hand, he hauled him back to the rooftop and slammed him hard next to Bullseye.

"Daredevil, right? Horns on your head, right? Lawyer, right? Blind, right?"

Yep, this freak in costume was none other than one of Hell's Kitchen's homegrown superheroes—Daredevil.

Or, as some called him, the Man Without Fear.

Heisenberg fired off question after question at the blind vigilante, who was too pained to speak.

Still, Daredevil was tough. Though countless bones were shattered, he never cried out in pain, nor did he utter a single soft word to Heisenberg.

Looking at this blind man, Heisenberg felt a bit helpless.

This guy was technically a superhero—weak, indecisive, blind, and tangled in too much drama.

But if he killed him outright...

If he killed him, he'd have to deal with Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, and Iron Fist coming to avenge Daredevil.

He might even run into someone Heisenberg genuinely admired—the Punisher.

Bottom line, Heisenberg didn't want to kill Daredevil.

But that didn't mean he'd just let him go.

Lock him up for now. Wait until his friends showed up, then recruit them all. See if these young punks messing around in Hell's Kitchen wanted to join his Injustice League.

With that thought, a red gleam flashed in Heisenberg's eyes as he glanced at Bullseye's rear.

"AAAAHHHH!!!"

With a bloodcurdling scream, Bullseye clutched his left butt cheek and jumped up.

He was about to curse, but then he saw Heisenberg.

Poor Bullseye instantly caved.

"Boss, I was set up, I..."

"No big deal. Drag this guy down and lock him up."

Heisenberg ordered calmly.

As his words fell, Bullseye scrambled to obey, but besides following orders, he was desperate to explain his failure.

So, while hoisting Daredevil onto his shoulder, he whispered to Heisenberg.

"He... people in Hell's Kitchen call him Daredevil. A real pain of a vigilante.

I wanted to take him out, but he blindsided me with a ton of hallucinogens.

Boss, give me another chance. I won't go down that easily..."

"Won't go down that easily?"

Heisenberg patted Bullseye's shoulder, bored.

"I said, no big deal. Relax and do your job."

With that, Heisenberg lay back in his lounge chair, closed his eyes, and basked in the sun, saying nothing more.

As for Bullseye—

He had no choice but to haul Daredevil away.

Heading downstairs, his heart was still uneasy. He had no idea how much this failure would tank his standing with Heisenberg.

But as he walked, once the fear and anxiety faded, his mind filled with shame and hatred.

He shot Daredevil a vicious glare.

(°_°)...

Wait!

Bullseye's eyes lit up instantly.

He had never carried a completely defenseless Daredevil over his shoulder like this before.

Who exactly was Daredevil, and what did he do? Was he a playboy like Batman in the comics, or some homeless guy on the street?

And since Daredevil had no way to fight back now, didn't that mean he could mess with him however he wanted?

Tsk, tsk, tsk...

Bullseye suddenly felt like he'd opened the door to a whole new world.

Three minutes later, in the basement of Heisenberg Mansion, Bullseye tied Daredevil to a battered lab table in the abandoned drug lab.

Back in the day, Heisenberg Mansion—originally named Golden Mansion—had been one of Kingpin's biggest drug labs.

But after Heisenberg took over and banned drugs, Bullseye personally led a crew to trash this lab.

Don't ask why he didn't sell the drug-making equipment for some cash.

It was all about showing loyalty.

And now, this abandoned drug lab came in handy.

After this thing with Daredevil, Bullseye figured he could totally convert the basement into a private prison!

Then stuff every damn costumed vigilante in there!

Starting with Daredevil!

With a solemn look, Bullseye pulled out a throwing knife and pressed the sharp blade against Daredevil's face.

Who the hell would bother pulling off a mask with their hands? You cut it off.

When the mask fell away, Bullseye thought the face looked familiar.

"Is that the lawyer? The blind guy?!!"

He was stunned.

"I've been beaten by a blind guy countless times... I... I'm fucking...!"

Without another word, Bullseye slapped Daredevil hard across the face.

Smack!!!

Splash.

Daredevil spat out a mouthful of blood.

That blood startled Bullseye.

He stared at his own right hand in confusion.

Did this hand have that much strength? One slap and he coughed up blood?

No, Daredevil was already injured!

Realizing this, Bullseye quickly stripped off Daredevil's shirt.

One look confirmed it.

Daredevil's body was covered in bruises and purple swellings.

He had at least a dozen broken bones!

"Holy shit, the Boss really doesn't hold back. But he didn't say to kill him, so do I have to take Daredevil to the hospital?!!"

That decision had Bullseye torn.

Say what you will, joke all you want, but don't mess with the mob.

Bullseye himself wouldn't go to a regular hospital even when he was hurt.

Was he really supposed to take this archenemy to get treated?

Ring, ring, ring!

The phone suddenly rang, and Bullseye quickly pulled it out.

"Boss, what's the order?"

"Just remembered something—I think I broke a few bones on that weirdo. Take him to the hospital and get him checked out. Don't let him die!"

"Yes!"

Bullseye immediately agreed, but Heisenberg wasn't done.

"And while you're at it, get your own ass checked out at the hospital too.

I had to get a little rough waking you up from the ether. Consider it punishment for this failure. Got it?"

"Yes!"

Bullseye nodded in agreement again.

After the call ended, Bullseye stood there, grinding his teeth in frustration.

He wished this blind bastard would just die right here!

But what could he do about it?

Of course, take Daredevil to the hospital.

As for his own butt—what about his butt?

Bullseye didn't feel anything wrong with his butt, did he?

That's what he thought, until he actually sat down in the car on the way to the hospital.

The moment his butt touched the seat...

"Mmph—ahh—aaahhh!!!"

Three hours later, at the hospital.

The young nurses were huddled in a corner, whispering.

"Did you hear? The stuff rich people get up to is terrifying!"

"Yeah, that guy—what's his name, the one with the target tattooed on his head, that famous gangster!"

"Bullseye, I think it's Bullseye—his butt and his friend's chest..."

"It's like their positions got mismatched."

"One lost half his butt, the other broke seven or eight ribs?"

"Were they using that legendary falling-from-the-sky position or something?"

"Eww~, that's horrifying!"