It Really Was a Car Wash

At first, hearing that a customer had come to get a car washed seemed normal enough to the burly man. Then his mind turned it over a couple of times, and he was instantly dumbfounded. From the voice, he knew there was a woman in the car. What kind of idiot would come to "wash a car" while the bosses from both sides were negotiating?

His instincts told him that she probably was not here for a car wash.

He immediately pulled out a weapon, preparing to make her leave at once.

But Daisy moved much faster. She shoved the car door open with all her strength.

Bang! The burly man's head had an intimate encounter with the car door. If Daisy had not been afraid of damaging it, she could have used even more force.

The burly man staggered from the blow. Before he understood what had happened, Daisy yanked him back and pressed a crackling stun gun to his neck. His eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

Daisy flicked her toe upward and flipped the burly man onto his back.

No guns, no dagger. Only a pair of brass knuckles fell from his pocket. She did not know how to use those. Muttering inwardly, she calmly looked at the remaining five men.

Though the whole situation felt completely out of place, she still stated her purpose. "Can you wash cars here?"

James Wesley, wearing square-framed glasses and a sharply pressed suit, was stunned, as were the Russians. Were people using such fresh excuses to cause trouble these days?

James Wesley took two steps back with an expression of amused anticipation.

The gaunt man suppressed his anger. "I don't care who sent you. Get lost!"

The three burly men around him also closed in, glaring at her like tigers stalking prey.

Daisy glanced at their weapons. Whether they simply preferred hand-to-hand combat or did not want to use firearms, these Russians were all carrying cold weapons—clubs, daggers, iron chains, and the like.

"Why can't I make you understand? Your persecution complex is way too serious..." Before they could fully surround her, Daisy ran to the left, toward a bald man holding an iron chain.

Chains were difficult weapons to use, and this bald man was especially unskilled with his. Daisy outclassed him in both reflexes and speed.

She feinted past him and broke out of the encirclement. As she passed, she kicked him in the butt, sending the chain-wielding man crashing into his companions. Borrowing the momentum, she accelerated toward James Wesley, who was watching from a short distance away.

James's expression changed drastically. He was involved with the underworld, sure, but he was a strategist and assistant. In the original timeline, he had acted too smug and ended up being shot dead by Daredevil's female lead. His combat ability was pathetic. Before he could react, Daisy was already in front of him.

She kicked him in the stomach, and while he doubled over, Daisy pulled an M1911 from his jacket.

She checked the magazine. There were seven rounds. Then she inspected the gun itself. "Oh? This is a collector's edition, isn't it? Mr. Wesley, you have good taste."

Then she pointed the gun at James Wesley and said something that left everyone speechless. "Hurry up. Have them wash my car."

"Are you crazy?!" James Wesley was so furious his teeth itched. All he could think of was the classic cat-and-mouse routine. He absolutely did not believe she had come here for a car wash.

The Russian brutes were equally bewildered. This was honestly the first time they had encountered anything so bizarre. They looked to their boss, waiting for him to decide.

The gaunt man hesitated. His subordinates only needed to charge in and fight. He had many more things to consider.

Daisy holding James hostage was even more dangerous than holding one of his own men. If Kingpin's assistant died here, forget jointly developing real estate—the two sides would immediately become mortal enemies. James was not only Kingpin's assistant, but also his friend. If anything happened to him, there would be no way to explain it.

He ran through all their rivals in his mind but could not figure out who would send a woman here to cause trouble.

But whatever conspiracy was behind this, he had to save James. He told his men, "Go wash her car."

His men followed orders. When they opened the car door, they saw the bloodstains on the back seat.

They set up a water hose and began rinsing it down. In less than ten minutes, they had washed the entire car, then replaced the back-seat cover with a new one.

Holding James at gunpoint, Daisy gestured for him to get into the car. She inspected it once more. The Russians were quite skilled; it was spotless, without a trace of blood.

She did not mention payment, and the Russians did not ask for any. For Daisy, who only had five hundred dollars left, that was good news. The Russian brutes could only watch helplessly as she drove off with James Wesley as her hostage.

"Notify them that Mr. Wesley has been kidnapped by an unidentified woman. The rest has nothing to do with us." The gaunt man seemed faintly eager to watch the situation blow up.

Meanwhile, Daisy drove back.

"You covered your face because I've seen you before, right?" James Wesley analyzed on his own, trying to find clues.

Daisy answered with another question. "Mr. Wesley is a talented man. You speak several languages, you're good with people, you understand modern capital operations, and your work ability is outstanding. With such excellent qualifications, why not join a major corporation instead of running around with gangsters?"

He gave her a curious look. Daisy held the steering wheel with one hand and aimed the gun at him with the other.

He snorted, making it clear that he had no intention of answering.

Daisy continued, "If you were given a chance to walk in the sunlight and enjoy the attention of the media, would you want it?"

James Wesley was having trouble figuring out who she really was. Was she from a headhunting company?

What kind of headhunting company went to a gang hideout to recruit people? And pointed a gun at him while doing it? Was she going to shoot him if he refused?

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm just bored from driving. I was asking casually." There was not the slightest hint of sincerity in her words.

Seeing that no one was pursuing them, Daisy knocked James Wesley unconscious with a single blow and threw this elite man—who yearned for money and prestige yet was bound by friendship, tirelessly serving the gangsters—out of the car.

Daisy had considered recruiting him. He was definitely talented. But thinking of his friendship with Kingpin, as well as her pitiful five hundred dollars, she temporarily gave up on the idea.

To leave on good terms, she wiped the fingerprints from the pistol and stuffed it back into his jacket.

She put the license plate back on—the old one had been removed earlier—drove to another legitimate car wash, had the car repainted and modified a little, then finally returned it to the rental company.

After all that trouble, almost none of her five hundred dollars remained...

With a sigh, Daisy took a bus to visit the future Punisher. If he had regained consciousness, it would be even better if he could reimburse her expenses.

Logically, saving someone should not come with demands for repayment, but she really was out of money.

She pushed open the room door and found it empty.

Daisy sensed the area, but there was no trace of Frank's vibration frequency nearby. After checking the scene, she found that he had left calmly, not even leaving behind a single cent.

"He recovered so quickly. Is this guy's physique really that of an ordinary person?" Shaking her head, she slowly left the neighborhood.