In a church confessional booth.
"It's been too long since my last confession."
Matt removed his sunglasses and started talking to himself.
"When I was young, my dad used to take me to this church."
He slowly began to recall past events.
"He was an old-school boxer, with more losses than wins—24 victories and 31 defeats to his name."
At this point, he got a bit emotional and blurted out:
"But man, he could take a punch. God, he could fucking take a punch."
"Watch your language!"
The priest gently reminded him.
"Sorry, Father."
Matt calmed down and continued his story.
"His opponents used to say hitting him was like hitting a tree."
He painted a picture of his father, as if the strong, towering man had appeared before him again.
"When he couldn't beat his opponent, my dad's strategy was to let them punch him until they broke their hands."
Matt paused, a genuine smile appearing on his face.
"He never got knocked out, my dad."
He went on.
"Sure, he got knocked down, but he'd always get back up."
"When he lost, he'd still be standing tall."
"But sometimes… sometimes he'd take a beating for a while..."
Matt's voice grew quieter.
"And then he'd just explode."
He then shifted the topic.
"My grandma, she was a devout Catholic, deeply respectful of God. You would've liked her."
"She used to say, 'Be careful of the Murdock men—they've got demons in them.'"
"Sometimes, you could see it."
Matt's eyes began to grow colder.
"In the boxing ring, his eyes would suddenly turn cold."
"He'd slowly move forward, arms at his sides, as if he feared nothing. His opponent would see that look in his eyes and want to run."
"My dad would trap them in the corner and unleash his demons."
At some point, silent tears started to roll down Matt's cheeks.
"I didn't understand then. I didn't understand what he felt deep inside, at least not back then."
Matt finished speaking, falling silent.
"And now? Do you understand now?"
The priest asked.
"If you tell me what you've done, maybe you'll feel better."
Matt put his sunglasses back on.
"I'm not here to confess my sins, Father. I want you to forgive..."
His face turned expressionless.
"...what I'm about to do."
...
In a narrow alley.
Brown was wearing a mask and a hat, glancing around nervously.
He was waiting for someone.
Soon, a middle-aged man with a cocky attitude walked in.
"Brown?"
He looked at Brown and said, "Where's the stuff?"
Brown cautiously studied the man and shook his head.
"Where's the money?"
His raspy voice broke the silence.
"Right here."
The man sneered.
"Aren't you the tough guy? I heard you're the only hard case around here. So, why are you playing nice today?"
He taunted Brown, tossing a plastic bag at him.
"Where's the stuff?"
Ignoring the man's mockery, Brown took the bag, ripped it open for a quick glance.
After confirming the money was all there, he pulled out a folder from his coat and handed it over.
"Why do you want this woman dead?"
As the man checked the file, Brown couldn't help but ask.
The man frowned and coldly replied, "That's none of your business."
"I'm a cop!"
Brown said in a low, serious tone.
At that, the man burst out laughing as if he'd just heard the funniest joke ever.
"Yeah, you're a cop!"
Clapping his hands, he pointed at Brown mockingly.
"A cop who works with gangs, selling them information! Great cop!"
The veins on Brown's forehead bulged. He resisted the urge to draw his gun and bitterly said,
"This is the last time! You better be careful from now on!"
"The last time?"
The man sneered.
"Once you've done it, there's no going back. You know that, right? Brown, this isn't a 'once' thing. It's zero or countless times!"
He gave a dismissive sneer and continued,
"Or did you think you could take the money and still be a good cop?"
He laughed arrogantly.
"Remember, we've got dirt on you now! So from now on, stay out of my way!"
"F**k you!"
Furious, Brown pulled out his gun and pointed it at the man.
"Show some respect, you piece of crap!"
"Heh."
The man showed no fear, even pushing his head toward the barrel.
"Go ahead, shoot! See what happens."
Brown's hand shook, but he didn't pull the trigger.
He no longer had the courage to shoot like he did in his younger years.
Time had eroded his will and ideals. He was no longer the hot-blooded youth who charged forward without hesitation.
Life had broken his back. Now, as an old man, he just wanted to give his wife a peaceful, simple life in their later years.
The man sneered again and turned to leave.
Just then, a shadow swiftly darted through the alley.
The man let out a grunt and fell to the ground.
"Who are you?"
Brown raised his gun and aimed it at the figure in black, feeling a sudden sense of dread.
"I am justice delayed."
The black-clad figure spoke.
It was him!
The devil of Hell's Kitchen, the one who punished all evildoers—the Daredevil!
Having worked in Hell's Kitchen for years, Brown knew the rumors were true.
In fact, he used to admire the guy's actions.
Even though, as a cop, it was disgraceful to approve of a vigilante—it meant someone was doing the job they were supposed to be doing.
But this was Hell's Kitchen, where the police's sense of justice had no place on this land of sin.
Only a devil could punish the wicked here.
But now, all Brown felt was a chilling cold.
Because he had abandoned the justice he'd upheld for most of his life and stepped into the darkness from which there was no return.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
Brown fired his gun, aiming to kill this guy.
He couldn't go down here—his wife was still waiting for him at home.
But Daredevil quickly dodged the shots and closed in on Brown with a few swift moves.
With a loud "thud," Brown, no longer the man he once was, was knocked down by Daredevil.
"What are you going to do?"
Brown gasped, asking.
Daredevil leaned down, his voice low.
"Tell me, who are you working for?"
"I'm working for money!"
"Who?"
Daredevil slammed his fist into Brown.
Brown let out a painful cry, his face conflicted.
"I can't say, you know that! Everyone in this place works for him."
Finally, Brown spoke slowly.
"The king of Hell's Kitchen? Kingpin?"
Daredevil asked directly.
"Yes."
With a swift chop to Brown's neck, Daredevil knocked him unconscious.
"Kingpin..."