The blinds on the second floor were pushed open.
Six burly gangsters leaned out, their dark submachine gun barrels pressing against the road, bullets slicing through the rain.
Daredevil activated a split second before the barrage of bullets landed.
Using the police car as leverage, he leaped into the air, his right hand swinging out a short baton with a dark red cord trailing behind it, accurately chiseling it into the brickwork above the window frame.
With a pull of his arm, he sprang up from the wet, slippery red brick wall, delivering a fierce, mid-air flip kick that shattered the entire glass pane.
"He's inside! Open fire! Open fire now!"
Gunfire erupted in chaos, accompanied by the sounds of tables and chairs overturning and bones breaking.
Less than twenty seconds later, the second-floor window was smashed open again.
The leader of the gunmen was grabbed by the collar by Daredevil and thrown into the air, his neck broken and dislocated, crashing heavily through the empty oil drums piled up at the bottom of the building.
The black figure landed nimbly back into the puddles.
More than thirty corpses lay scattered in a pit filled with gasoline and mud, thick, dark red blood seeping out from between the bricks.
Three hundred meters across the street, inside a narrow window of an abandoned clock tower.
Frank Castle stood close to the rubble and pigeon droppings scattered on the ground, his index finger resting on the edge of the trigger guard on his sniper rifle.
The crosshairs of the high-powered scope were fixed on the face of the black-clad monster in the middle of the street.
"Damn it, this can't be..."
The Punisher had originally planned to wait until the two gangs were both severely injured before coming out to collect the bodies.
But the killing machine in the footage is clearly the same person he desperately pulled out of the chemical plant ruins just days ago!
At that time, his lumbar spine had been broken in two, his lower body was completely paralyzed, and he could barely breathe.
But now, the Hell's Kitchen saint who would rather take a shot with his rifle butt and grit his teeth than stop him from killing is standing on a pile of thirty-odd steaming corpses.
Dum Dum Dugan's deep, urging voice came through the headset.
" Frank, the ninjas patrolling the perimeter have been cleared out by the captain and me. How's the situation on your end?"
What kind of thing is popping out from underground?
The Punisher didn't reply; the crosshairs in the scope swayed slightly with his rapid breathing, but his index finger couldn't pull down the trigger.
" Frank? If he's too tough, we'll disengage. The armor-piercing rounds we brought tonight are for South America; it's not worth risking everything in New York with gang scum!"
Steve's voice also switched into the channel, with screams of agony from shields smashing bones mixed in the background.
"It's Daredevil..."
"Who? Daredevil?! Wasn't he dragged away by those ninjas?"
"Right under my nose."
The Punisher adjusted his aim, his voice trembling. "He chopped Kingpin's money bag and the Joker Gang bastards to pieces, leaving not a single one alive."
He took a deep breath, pressed the crosshair down, and locked it firmly against Daredevil's right shoulder joint.
He owes this blind man a life.
When four tons of high explosives were sent flying into the air at the dock, it was this kid who recklessly rushed forward and dragged him into the icy seawater.
Even if this kid has really been turned into a mad dog by evil witchcraft, he still has to smash the other guy's shoulders and drag him back to the clinic first!
"Don't shoot, Frank! The Hand definitely tampered with him. Wait for me!"
No sooner had the captain finished speaking than Daredevil in the scope suddenly tilted his head.
Across a torrential downpour of three hundred meters, those murky, hollow, bloodshot eyes collided with the scope.
Fuck!
The Punisher no longer hesitated and decisively pulled the trigger.
The specially designed armor-piercing bullet pierced through the rain and headed straight for Daredevil's right shoulder.
At the same moment the gun barrel exploded, Daredevil swiftly swung his short stick upwards at an angle.
A bright burst of Spark exploded on the dimly lit street, the specially designed Negasonic Teenage Warhead being deflected off its trajectory and embedding itself in the load-bearing pillar of the red brick building behind it.
Looking through the scope again, all that remained was splashing water; the black figure was already sprinting towards the clock tower.
"Damn it, he's coming for me!"
Frank grabbed the rifle sling, rolled out of the window, and headed straight for the escape stairs behind the clock tower.
At the westernmost end of Hell's Kitchen, atop the 100-meter-high cooling tower of the former Kingpin chemical plant.
The Joker was wearing a soaking wet purple tuxedo.
His left leg was roughly splinted with two rusty steel bars, and his left arm was in a thick cast and draped around his neck with bandages.
He didn't feel much pain from the dislocated bone at all, standing with one foot on the edge of the rusty iron railing.
He held up a monocular telescope in his right hand.
The Joker masks and the corpses of the thugs lying scattered on the ground were clearly visible.
The henchman standing behind him took half a step forward.
" Mr. J, the entire squad on 48th Street is wiped out."
"Should we pull out the anti-materiel artillery from the warehouse and blow that Daredevil in black to smithereens?"
The Joker lowered his binoculars, his shoulders twitching.
At first, it was just a low chuckle coming from his throat. Then, he raised his face, which was covered in pale paint, and opened a bright red gash in the rain, bursting into a heart-wrenching, maniacal the Batman Who Laughs.
"Hahaha, blow him up! You actually wanted to blow up my most perfect masterpiece?"
The Joker jumped off the railing and slapped his underling across the face.
The plaster cast hanging from his left hand hit the other person's nose, causing it to bleed profusely.
"Are you blind?! Look at him! Look at him now! What perfect art!"
He snatched the walkie-talkie from his underling's waist, turned the speakerphone to maximum, and started hopping and jumping on the slippery iron plate at the top of the tower.
Listen up, everyone!
The Joker yelled into the walkie-talkie, his voice carrying across the radio waves to the ears of all the still-breathing Joker Gang members in Hell's Kitchen.
"Look at our Daredevil!"
"That saint who spent all his time weeping in the dark while clutching the law code! He finally threw that tattered book, too stiff even to wipe his ass with, into the gutter!"
"No defense, no jury, and no sham bail proceedings! Clean and efficient, sending them straight to hell!"
Not a single word wasted!
The Joker shoved the binoculars back into his underling's arms, grabbed the man's collar with his right hand, and pressed his red-lipped face against the man's nose.
"I knew it... I knew it all along! Anyone only needs one bad day to become like me!"
"I just helped him turn his cop friends into smiling faces, and then canned his big brothers. Look, now the Hand done the final step for me!"
"This is real art! Hell's Kitchen is finally getting lively!"
The Joker released his grip, leaving his underling limp in the puddles, then turned and leaned back against the railing, spreading his arms wide in the pouring rain.
"Pass the word! Push all the 'Carnival Laughing Balloons' from the chemical plant into the street! Light a bonfire! We must give a proper welcome to this Dark Knight who has finally shed his disguise!"