When the blood-soaked Punisher crashed through his window, Matt, sitting on the sofa, could not help sighing. He had told him to use the front door—why did he always have to climb through the window...
"Could you not..."
Catching the pungent scent of blood, Matt's expression changed. He swallowed the teasing remark he had been about to make, hurriedly helped the heavily breathing Punisher onto the sofa, then rummaged through the house for a portable medical kit containing bandages and iodine disinfectant.
Back then, Matt wore the Red Devil's suit every night and patrolled Hell's Kitchen, searching for criminal gang members and street thugs. In those days, getting hurt was practically routine for him.
Though he could not see, Matt possessed superhuman senses far sharper than those of ordinary people. The Punisher was covered almost entirely in knife wounds, long narrow cuts crisscrossing his body, blood soaking through his black skull T-shirt. When had Hell's Kitchen gained another expert who used bladed weapons?
With that question in mind, Matt treated the nearly unconscious Punisher's wounds and gave him some basic bandaging. He had long decided to abandon the identity of Daredevil and say farewell to his old life, but he and the Punisher had once been comrades on the same side. They both hated crime and wanted to change Hell's Kitchen with their own strength. The Punisher was driven by the rage of losing his family, while Matt was driven by his sense of justice.
"Matt..."
After an unknown amount of time, the Punisher opened his eyes, his consciousness gradually clearing from its haze. He had at least a dozen wounds across his body and had lost a great deal of blood. If not for his powerful physique keeping him going, he would have been sent to a hospital morgue long ago.
"I don't want to know anything about those crime syndicates, Frank. I finally managed to live a peaceful life and forget about being Daredevil... The only reason I took you in and treated your wounds instead of sending you straight to the police station or hospital is because we used to be friends. So don't drag me back into that filthy vortex of evil!"
Matt sat in the darkness, seeming to know what the Punisher was about to say. He did not want to be drawn back into that enormous, filthy vortex of sin. Hell's Kitchen had always been like this. He had once believed Kingpin was the chief culprit behind it all, yet after the Black Emperor fell, criminal activity had not decreased. It had instead grown even more intense, with gangs fighting and scrambling for territory like rabid dogs.
"Matt, has the anger in your heart really disappeared?!" The Punisher struggled up from the sofa, his eyes, always burning with rage, staring directly at the silhouette in the darkness.
"Your father was called 'Hellfire Boxer' Jack Murdock. To make a living, he had no choice but to fight for gang bosses. In those secretly manipulated matches, your father sometimes had to throw fights to help the gangs earn greater profits. That time, you wanted to watch your father's match. For your sake, he defied the gang's orders and won that fight. But what happened afterward..."
"Shut up, Frank!" Matt roared, his voice suppressing his anger.
"...Afterward, he was murdered by the gang and died in an alley! The law you believed in never brought his killer to justice, because that bastard bribed the police and threatened the jury. Even with irrefutable evidence, he was still able to kill someone and walk free!"
"When the law cannot bring justice to people, we do it ourselves. Wasn't that why you became Daredevil? Why are you shrinking back like a coward now?!"
The Punisher refused to back down. His low, hoarse voice contained endless pain and fury. He hated criminals and wished he could send every last one of them to hell!
"I'm not like you..." Matt said softly, as if all his strength had suddenly left him.
He had once tried to uphold justice with his abilities, and because of that, he had lost the woman he loved. Elektra had been killed by The Hand; his friend Foggy had left the law firm and gradually drifted away from him; Karen, who had stayed by his side, had also chosen to leave. Wearing Daredevil's mask meant shouldering heavy responsibilities and paying a painful price. Matt was tired. He could no longer keep going.
"Elektra is alive." Looking at the despondent Matt, the Punisher revealed the news. "She's mixed up with The Hand and follows a woman's orders. She's even stronger than before. Not even I was a match for her!"
"Nobu's sword stabbed Elektra. She collapsed in my arms, and Stick and I buried her together... Yet now you're telling me that Elektra is alive, and that she is with the very Hand who killed her?"
There was a trace of anger in Matt's voice. Watching the woman he loved die in his arms had become an eternal wound in his heart. "Frank, we may be friends, but don't joke about Elektra!"
"You think I'm lying to you? The wounds on my body were all caused by your beloved Elektra with a Japanese samurai sword. She's no longer the person you remember, Matt. The Hand calls her the Black Sky. Her body has been occupied by another presence, turning her into a cold-blooded killing machine!"
The Punisher swayed to his feet and took a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. The icy liquid pouring down his throat calmed the muscular man wrapped in bandages a little.
"Matt, The Hand is plotting something enormous. Beneath their new base—Midtown Circle Financial—there's a huge hole. That earthquake in Hell's Kitchen was caused by The Hand. If we keep letting them do as they please, who knows what terrifying consequences it will bring? A war is coming. We have to fight for Hell's Kitchen!"
The Punisher told Matt everything he knew. He hoped his old friend would put on the Red Devil's suit again, become Daredevil once more, and stop The Hand's conspiracy with him.
"Put on that mask. Come save Hell's Kitchen with me, and save your Elektra!"
Matt remained silent. He closed his hollow eyes, and countless memories he had deliberately forgotten surged into his mind like a flood: growing up in an orphanage, receiving instruction from the blind Stick, getting into Columbia University, aspiring to become an outstanding lawyer...
Those scenes flashed by in an instant. After graduation, Matt came to understand that the law might be impartial, but those enforcing it were not necessarily so. There was too much injustice and darkness in the world. A blind lawyer alone could not stand against capitalists who could afford entire teams of lawyers, nor could he punish gang bosses who colluded with the police.
So he put on the mask. With his extraordinary superhuman senses and the martial arts skills he had learned from Stick, he became Hell's Kitchen's Red Devil, specializing in making trouble for gangsters and thugs.
"Frank, perhaps you're right—if we want peace, we must prepare for war." Matt rose from the darkness and pulled open a compartment in the living room. Inside lay a red suit and a mask with demonic horns.
Having put on the Daredevil suit again, Matt turned to the Punisher. "Do we have any other teammates? Two people alone can't take on The Hand."
The Punisher, his body wrapped in white bandages, laughed. His hoarse voice sounded like metal scraping together. "Of course. You're not the only hero in Hell's Kitchen."
P.S.: I'm stuck on the plot. My head hurts~
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