Inside the ice cream truck.
The Joker sat cross-legged in the narrow space behind the driver's seat, surrounded by dozens of palm-sized monitor screens.
The footage all came from hidden cameras worn around the necks of the rioters.
"Oh! Look at that! That bald giant executed a beautiful back throw!"
The Joker pointed at the screen in the upper left corner and yelled, spitting out popcorn all over the floor.
"Give that ninja's spine a perfect score! Ten out of ten!"
On the screen, the bald, burly man had just broken a ninja's waist when, in the next second, another the Hand elite stabbed him through the throat with a katana.
The screen shook violently a few times, then turned into a snowflake.
"Tch, is that all? Points deducted."
The Joker disdainfully swiped the screen aside and looked at the main screen in the center.
It was taken by a thug hiding on top of a shipping container.
The warehouse was in complete chaos.
The Hand's ninjas were skilled, but they were simply too many drug-addicted lunatics whose minds were only focused on killing.
The ground was littered with severed limbs and internal organs.
"Beautiful! That's right! This is what Hell's Kitchen should look like!"
The Joker grabbed the Mike, and his voice came out simultaneously from the walkie-talkies on the thugs' bodies.
"Hey you on the left, give it your all! And you on the right, stop biting my toes, bite my neck! Yes! Right there!"
Daredevil weaved through the crowd.
Wherever trouble occurs, he rushes there. He just knocked out a biker who was trying to detonate explosives, then turned around and kicked away two ninjas who were about to launch a sneak attack.
"Stop! All of you, stop!"
Daredevil roared, breaking countless bones with his short stick, but it was all in vain.
Nobody listens to him.
In this insane night, reason is the most useless thing.
"Poor Little Red Riding Hood, she looks like she's about to cry."
The Joker stared at the disheveled red figure on the screen and popped a spoonful of strawberry jam into his mouth.
Just then, a bright flash of light appeared on the edge of the screen.
call out--
There was absolutely no time for anyone to react.
They crept into the most crowded area, and a Rocket trailed a fiery exhaust.
Boom!
Flames shot into the sky.
The explosion, carrying shrapnel and debris, pulverized everything within a ten-meter radius.
Whether they were thugs wielding axes or ninjas with swords, they were all the same now—turned to charred remains.
The blast wave sent Daredevil flying, crashing heavily into a container in the distance. His ears were ringing, and he couldn't hear anything else.
Smoke and dust filled the air.
The battlefield, which had been bustling just moments before, suddenly fell completely silent.
The sound of military boots stepping on broken glass rang out.
Click, click.
A tall figure emerged from the smoke, wearing a black tactical bulletproof vest, the pale white skull insignia on his chest looking particularly frightening in the firelight.
He was carrying an M60 machine gun, his waist was covered with ammunition belts and grenades, he was armed from head to toe.
"Who... who is that?" A surviving Russia gangster was stunned, still holding the chipped machete in his hand.
His answer was the sound of a gun barrel turning.
Da da da da da--!
Flames shot from the gun muzzle.
The thug and his three accomplices were riddled with bullets; the large-caliber bullets tore through their flesh, and blood mist exploded in mid-air.
This person doesn't distinguish between friend and foe at all.
He turned the gun around and aimed it at the two the Hand ninjas who had just gotten up from the ground.
"Go to hell."
His voice was low and hoarse, devoid of any emotion.
The bullets pierced the chests of two ninjas, pinning them to the wooden crates.
"It's... it's the Punisher!" Someone recognized the symbol, their screams drowning out the gunfire. "That serial killer is here! Run!"
The thugs who were just moments ago bloodthirsty were now completely demoralized. When they saw the skull, their drug-fueled madness was utterly useless. That man wasn't just a madman; he killed without batting an eye.
Daredevil stood up, clutching his chest. The familiar heartbeat he sensed on his Radar Sense sent chills down his spine.
His heartbeat was steady and slow, without the slightest fluctuation when he pulled the trigger to kill.
" Frank!" Daredevil roared, ignoring the excruciating pain in his body, he swung his Billy Stick, wrapped it around the beam above his head, and swung it towards the man who was firing wildly.
"Stop! There are civilians here!"
Frank Castle didn't even turn his head. He used one hand to control the recoil of the machine gun, and with the other hand, he drew the shotgun from the outside of his thigh and pulled the trigger at the ninjas charging towards him.
"There are no civilians here," Frank said coldly, the last part almost drowned out by gunfire, "Only criminals and corpses."
Bang!
One of Madame Gao's personal guards, who attempted a sneak attack, had his head blown off by a shotgun.
Daredevil landed in front of Frank and grabbed the red-hot barrel of the gun. "I said stop! You lunatic!"
Frank released the machine gun and slammed a punch into Daredevil's chin with his other hand. The punch was completely unpretentious, just pure force and killing intent.
"Get out of my way, Azazel." Frank drew his tactical knife, parrying Daredevil's baton. "What you dare not do, I'll do."
Inside the ice cream truck.
The Joker stared at the skull wreaking havoc on the screen, and the spoon in his mouth fell to the ground.
Wow.
He blinked, and the smile on his face froze for a second.
"I think... I forgot to send this guy an invitation." The Joker scratched his green hair, looking at the Joker Gang members being Carnage unilaterally on the screen with a bit of a headache.
He really forgot.
In this city, besides him and Daredevil, there was another guy who was even more extreme, a guy who had no principle of not killing and didn't put on any dramatic performances.
The person was only concerned with cleaning up the trash.
"This won't do." The Joker grumbled, watching his meticulously planned gangland brawl turn into Punisher one-man shooter. "He killed all my actors. How can this show go on?"
On the screen, a thug with a camera attached was shot in the head by Frank, and the screen went black.
The second and third ones also turned black.
The screens in front of the Joker went out one by one.
"Hey! That camera is expensive!" the Joker yelled at the black screen, grabbing his popcorn bucket and slamming it onto the control panel.
A glint of excitement flashed in his eyes, which were heavily circled with dark makeup.
"But then again..."
The Joker picked up the Mike again and stared at the skull that was wrestling with Daredevil in the remaining footage.
"Since we have such a distinguished guest, shouldn't we set off the grand finale fireworks display earlier than planned?"
His finger hovered over a red button.
The button was connected to four tons of C4 explosives buried underground in the warehouse.
Goodbye, my friends.
The Joker grinned and pressed the button.
Smile.