Love Doesn't Need Intelligence

Raymond sat at the bar in the Peace Hotel, looking over several reports.

He took the chilled beer Shang-Chi handed him and had a sip. Then he circled several things on the reports with a red pen and gave a strange little smile. "You'd never believe that some backwater like Sokovia in Eastern Europe has turned into a powder keg.

World War III might start any minute now..."

Shang-Chi paid no attention to Raymond's alarmist talk. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing Hell's Kitchen couldn't handle.

As he polished a glass, Shang-Chi called to a skinny, middle-aged man with curly hair in a waiter's uniform. "Hey, Sam, you're about to rub the paint right off the table.

Why don't you go help me feed the animals? Wilde seems to be growing lately. Give him a little extra!"

Sam stared blankly at Shang-Chi, his mouth slightly open. A few seconds later, he finally reacted and stammered in a strange, slurred accent, "O-okay~

B-but, can you- tell Wilde not to ram me? I-I'm kind of scared..."

Shang-Chi looked at Sam's foolish face and shook his head helplessly, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

Sam was intellectually disabled. He used to work at a Starbucks in Queens.

He'd come here because a blind lawyer in Hell's Kitchen was willing to take his case and help him get back the daughter the government had taken away.

Shang-Chi had run into him in an alley. The silly man lived in a cardboard box, waiting for lawyer Matt Murdock to bring him good news...

Raymond watched Shang-Chi's strange expression and tilted his head with a quiet chuckle. "If you've decided to help him, you should be patient!

Matt Murdock has actually been keeping an eye on him all along. He wants time and