Donning the Battle Robe Again

When the Punisher, covered in blood, crashed through his window, Matt, sitting on the sofa, couldn't help but sigh. He'd told him to use the front door, why did he always have to climb through the window…

"Can't you just not…"

Matt's expression changed as he caught the pungent smell of blood. The teasing words he was about to say caught in his throat. He quickly helped the panting Punisher onto the sofa and then rummaged through his home for a portable medical kit containing bandages and antiseptic iodine.

In the past, Matt would wear the Red Devil's costume every night, patrolling Hell's Kitchen, searching for signs of gangsters and street thugs. Back then, getting injured was practically an everyday occurrence for him.

Although he couldn't see, Matt possessed superhuman senses far more developed than ordinary people. The Punisher was covered mostly in stab wounds, the long, narrow gashes crisscrossing his body. Blood had soaked through his black skull t-shirt. When did another master of cold weapons appear in Hell's Kitchen?

With his mind filled with questions, Matt treated the Punisher's wounds as he neared unconsciousness, applying a simple dressing. He had long decided to give up his Daredevil identity and bid farewell to his old life. However, he and the Punisher had once stood on the same side. They both hated crime and wished to change Hell's Kitchen with their own strength. The Punisher's motivation stemmed from the rage of losing his family, while Matt's came from his inner sense of justice.

"Matt…"

After an unknown amount of time, the Punisher's eyes fluttered open, his consciousness slowly clearing from the haze. He had over a dozen wounds on his body and had lost a significant amount of blood. If not for his strong physique, he would have already been sent to the morgue.

"I don't want to know about criminal organizations, Frank. I finally managed to live a peaceful life and forget about being Daredevil… The only reason I'm taking you in and treating your wounds instead of sending you straight to the police or a hospital is because we were friends once. So don't drag me back into that vortex of sin!"

Matt sat in the darkness, seemingly knowing what the Punisher was about to say. He didn't want to be dragged into that dirty, sinful vortex anymore. Hell's Kitchen was always like this. He used to think Kingpin was the mastermind behind it all, but even after the Black Emperor fell, criminal activities hadn't decreased; instead, they had intensified. Gangs fought like wild dogs over territory.

"Matt, has your inner rage truly disappeared?!" The Punisher, lying on the sofa, struggled to sit up, his eyes, always filled with fury, staring directly at the figure in the darkness.

"Your father was known as 'Hellfire Boxer' Jack Murdock. He had to fight for gangsters to make a living. In these secretly manipulated matches, your father was sometimes forced to throw fights to help the gangs profit more. That time you wanted to watch your father's fight, he defied the gang's orders and won that match, but what was the result…"

"Shut up! Frank!" Matt yelled, his voice suppressed with anger.

"...He was killed by the gang, murdered in an alley! The law you believe in didn't bring his killer to justice because that bastard bribed the police and threatened the jury. Even with irrefutable evidence, he could still get away with murder and remain at large!"

"When the law fails to deliver justice, we take matters into our own hands. Isn't that why you became Daredevil? Why are you backing down like a coward now?!"

The Punisher retorted, his low, hoarse voice filled with endless pain and rage. He hated criminals and wished to send them all to hell!

"I'm not like you…" Matt murmured, as if all his strength had suddenly drained away.

He had tried to use his abilities to uphold justice, and in doing so, he lost his lover. Elektra was killed by the Hand. His friend Foggy left the law firm and grew distant from him. Karen, who had been by his side, also chose to leave. Wearing the Daredevil mask meant bearing heavy responsibilities and paying a steep price. Matt felt tired; he couldn't continue any longer.

"Elektra is alive." The Punisher said this, looking at the dejected Matt. "She's mixed up with the Hand, taking orders from a woman, and she's stronger than before. Even I'm no match for her!"

"The Hand's Nobu's sword stabbed Elektra. She fell into my arms, and Stick and I buried her… And now you're telling me Elektra is alive and with the Hand, the people who killed her?"

Matt's voice held a hint of anger. Watching his lover die in his arms was a wound that would never heal in his heart. "Frank, although we're friends, don't joke about Elektra!"

"You think I'm lying to you? The wounds on my body were all inflicted by your dear Elektra with a Japanese katana. She's not the person you remember, Matt. The Hand calls her 'Black Sky.' Her body has been taken over by another entity, turning her into a cold-blooded, ruthless killing machine!"

The Punisher swayed as he stood up and took a beer from the refrigerator. The cold liquid gurgling down his throat seemed to calm the heavily bandaged, strong man a little.

"Matt, the Hand is planning a massive conspiracy. Beneath their new base, Midtown Circle Financial, there's a huge gaping hole. The earthquake in Hell's Kitchen was caused by the Hand. If we let them continue, who knows what terrible consequences will follow. A war is coming, and we have to fight for Hell's Kitchen!"

The Punisher told Matt everything he knew, hoping his old friend would put on the Red Devil costume again and transform into Daredevil to stop the Hand's conspiracy with him.

"Put on that mask and save Hell's Kitchen, save your Elektra, with me!"

Matt remained silent. He closed his vacant eyes, and many deliberately forgotten memories surged back like a tide: growing up in an orphanage, being taught by the blind Stick, getting into Columbia University, aspiring to become an excellent lawyer…

Those images flashed by like fleeting glimpses. After graduation, Matt realized that while the law itself might be impartial, its executors were not. There was too much injustice and darkness in the world. A blind lawyer alone couldn't fight capitalists who could afford entire legal teams, nor could he punish gang leaders in cahoots with the police.

So, he put on the mask. With his extraordinary superhuman senses and the martial arts skills he learned from Stick, he transformed into Hell's Kitchen's Red Devil, specifically targeting those wicked gangsters.

"Frank, maybe you're right – if you want peace, you must prepare for war." Matt stood up from the darkness. He pulled open a compartment in the living room, revealing the red battle suit and the horned mask.

Matt, now back in the Daredevil suit, turned to the Punisher and asked, "Do we have other teammates? Two people can't handle the Hand."

The Punisher, wrapped in white bandages, let out a laugh, his hoarse voice like the grinding of metal. "Of course, you're not the only hero in Hell's Kitchen."

ps: I'm stuck on writing, my head hurts~

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