Uncle Me, You See...

Wesley had been completely overwhelmed lately. Forming an alliance with The Hand's Five Fingers had already made everything immensely complicated, keeping him busy enough to give anyone a headache.

Fisk's personality meant he was destined not to treat his allies well, so when it came time to divide up the profits, there would definitely have to be a clean break. Which things could be used as bargaining chips, which were poison for the other side, which were the Nails to be planted—Wesley had to handle all of it.

And right when he was at his busiest, some lunatic had come stirring up trouble!

Normally, that would not have been much of an issue. Ordinary people did not dare provoke Kingpin, but that did not mean he had no enemies.

There had always been enemies, both in the open and in the shadows.

But he had never encountered one like this!

The guy came drifting over with a scrap of cloth fluttering around him, wrecked the place, sent all the product down the sewers, and did not seem worried at all about getting the drug dealers arrested!

The gang members stationed there had either died or been crippled. Hardly any had gotten away unscathed!

Good thing they were criminals! Otherwise, the workers' compensation alone would have been an astronomical sum!

And then?

Then that bastard had fucking vanished!

Wesley had made all the necessary preparations, secretly deploying a huge number of men. He had even put Bullseye, who had only recently been recruited, to work.

If he had not been afraid of losing face, he would have gone to The Hand to borrow some manpower!

They had waited eagerly for an entire week, and not even a hair had shown up!

Young people had no martial virtue!

You could be a thief for a thousand days, but you could not guard against thieves for a thousand days. They could not keep wasting time like this—everyone still had to go to work tomorrow! Did that guy have no public decency at all?!

So Wesley gradually withdrew the extra personnel he had gathered.

The result was that just one day after the withdrawal, no new enemy came, but an old friend did!

"f#&!s###!d###!"

Could they not just live their lives in peace?! All I do is some violent demolition and sell a little detergent or whatever. What is wrong with that? Why does everyone hate me so much?!

As Wesley sat in his office, cursing furiously, a low-ranking boss pushed open the door and entered.

"Mr. Wesley..."

That expression and tone did not suggest good news.

Rubbing his brow, Wesley felt that life was truly too difficult.

"Let me guess. You did not catch him, did you?"

He sounded just like Kingpin. Wesley had realized that human emotions were often interconnected.

For instance, the moment before rage erupted was usually like the surface of a frozen lake.

Smooth as a mirror, with turbulent currents hidden beneath.

Just like he was now.

There was no answer.

Sometimes, no answer was an answer in itself.

He waved the unlucky kid away.

Ignoring the expression of immense relief on the man's face, Wesley considered whether he should tell Kingpin about this.

In theory, given Kingpin's trust in him, Wesley could make decisions on his own regarding anything. Of course, that was only as long as he did not go against Kingpin's wishes.

Wesley knew that.

Taking a step back, he could also dump the responsibility on the people below who actually did the work.

After all, he was more of a strategist. He would not charge at the front; making plans was his responsibility, while how well they were carried out had nothing to do with him.

He loosened his tie and propped his feet up on the desk.

He needed to think this through carefully.

Leon had been living a very regular life these past few days.

In the mornings, he went to Aisha's mother's restaurant for breakfast and casually asked Aisha about fennel beans.

At noon, he cleaned the house and cleared away the byproducts of his training.

In the afternoon, he slept. Exhaustion happened to be a great aid to sleep, and after waking up, he put on his gear and went to the suburbs to test his skills, his equipment, and himself.

He returned in the middle of the night, and Yaya Le healed his injuries.

That was basically how he had spent the past ten-plus days.

Leon had his reasons. First, out of caution, before becoming invincible like a certain bald guy, he had to familiarize himself with his abilities and understand his limits. Only then could he mess around more effectively.

Otherwise, if he confidently charged forward with an E and got himself killed, would that not be embarrassing?!

If you wanted to mess around, you needed to know your limits!

Otherwise, it was not messing around—it was feeding!

Second, naturally, it was out of prudence~

After having two hideouts taken out in a row, anyone would know to be on guard. At a time like this, naturally, he could not let his enemies get what they wanted!

Time to play it safe! Listening to his heart for a few days would do.

When reckless, soar into the skies; when timid, burrow underground. Combine recklessness and cowardice, and one cheap bastard arrives from the east, invincible under heaven!

After more than ten days, Leon had thoroughly familiarized himself with his current strength.

By his own estimate, flattening an enemy on Kingpin's level should be more than easy enough.

Having made his preparations, Leon waited for nightfall.

Matt Murdock staggered down a deserted street.

He could have used his weapon to leap between buildings, but the wound beneath his ribs made him unable to endure the pain of being pulled and stretched. Left with no choice, he could only travel like this.

He fled into an alley whose entrance was blocked by a huge dumpster. Matt could no longer hold on. Gritting his teeth to keep himself from making a sound, he braced one hand against the edge of the dumpster and pushed hard!

Normally, he would have simply vaulted over it, but he had underestimated the wound under his ribs and fell into the dumpster.

Struggling his way back out, he walked deeper into the alley.

Fortunately, there was nothing disgusting in the dumpster.

"Good thing no one saw that..."

Daredevil was still human. Of course he was afraid of being embarrassed.

He could only rest for the moment. He was sure he had shaken Bullseye, but this was clearly not a good place to treat his wound.

He still had to go home. It was just that... this time, he probably could not hide it from Foggy and Karen...

Matt had been injured before. That was the price of being Daredevil.

But most of his previous injuries had been superficial. Once he put on clothes, they could not be seen. As for injuries on his face, he would say he had been beaten up by some street punks, and Foggy had fallen for it every time.

This time would be difficult.

He touched beneath his ribs. It was Bullseye's throwing knife, and it was still lodged beneath his rib.

Matt sighed. He truly had terrible luck. It had originally been an ordinary reconnaissance mission, just like every other one before it.

He had not expected that the moment he reached the shipping containers at the docks, a crowd would suddenly focus fire on him!

He escaped by diving underwater amid the chaos. Yet the moment he emerged from the water, two throwing knives and a stone came flying right at him.

"Wow! An old friend?! I thought you'd escape in the other direction!"

Bullseye had actually been waiting for him here!

Matt knew he could not fight for long. Otherwise, he would definitely be held down by reinforcements, and Bullseye would become even harder to deal with. That maniac would not care whether he accidentally hurt his own allies!

After taking a knife, Matt seized an opportunity, kicked Bullseye into the water, and fled in a sorry state.

Once things quieted down, Matt was finally able to calmly think about the strange and unlucky events of tonight.

Thinking back on the situation, the enemy's preparations, combined with Bullseye's surprised but not astonished words, let Matt vaguely piece together what had happened.

"So I ran into it myself and set off someone else's mine?"

Sigh!

With a helpless bitter smile, he pushed himself upright against the wall. Matt decided not to go to the hospital after all. Long illness made for a good doctor; over the past two years, he had been injured almost every day. Before old wounds healed, new ones appeared. He was used to it, and he could handle simple wound treatment himself.

It was just that this injury was rather serious!

"I still don't know how to hide it from Foggy and Karen!" That was what truly frustrated him.

If it came down to it, should he hide somewhere for a few days?

While thinking about how to continue concealing his identity as Daredevil from his friends, he slowly walked out of the alley.

There should not be anyone now...

"Buddy, you're bleeding!"

He suddenly turned and "looked" diagonally upward!

Matt was blind, but his other senses were extraordinary. Though he usually still carried a blind cane, that was all an act. At night, he could leap over rooftops and walls with incredible agility!

Yet in such a quiet night, he had not heard any footsteps!

Pfft!

Of course! This person... was flying in the air!

"Buddy, you're pretty dedicated! Coming out this late in weird clothes, covered in blood, just to scare little kids!"

Matt: ...

"Does it hurt? Oof, it hurts just looking at it! Look, look! You're still bleeding! Oh! You can't see!"

Matt: ...

"Well, don't judge me by how I look now. Uncle me, you see, used to be a famous doctor back in the day! Ask around the East Side—who doesn't know me... Hmm... no one knows me. When I went to neuter little kittens, I always did it secretly!"

"Hehehehe..."

Matt: ...

Fuck your hehehe, you big watermelon!

If you're sick, get treated! If you're not sick... then you sure as hell don't look like you're not sick!

Contract signed. It has been sent out, but not returned yet. Feel free to add it to your collection!