The lights of New York glowed brightly against the night sky, but not everyone was enjoying the view. In a central hospital ward, Matthew—better known as Daredevil—lay on his bed with bandages covering his right hand and left leg. His body was bruised, his injuries still fresh from the brutal encounter the night before with Noah.
Matthew wasn't idle, though. He held a charcoal pencil in his left hand, sketching in a notebook on his lap. For an average person, it would seem strange that a blind man could draw, but for Matthew, whose senses were heightened beyond belief, it was second nature. Sound reverberations let him "see" shapes in his mind, and he was more precise than most sighted people.
As his pencil scratched against the paper, an image began to emerge. A young man, about eighteen, looking as flawless as an angel, appeared on the page. When he finished, Matthew studied the sketch for a moment, trying to piece together the events of the previous night.
"Who is this guy?" he muttered, feeling a mix of awe and concern. "How does he know so much about me?"
Noah had known Daredevil's weaknesses too well, as though he had information on his every move. And to make matters worse, he'd threatened Matthew, saying if he kept digging, he'd expose Daredevil's identity to Kingpin. The thought was enough to make Matthew uneasy; his life, and the lives of his friends, now rested on a fine edge.
Matthew was jolted from his thoughts by sounds outside the ward. He recognized the voice—Amy, a friend from his law firm, had come to check on him. Moments later, she walked in, a flower basket in hand.
"I heard you were injured in a gang fight last night," Amy said with a worried look. "How bad is it?"
Matthew forced a reassuring smile. "The doctor says I'll recover fast, but they advised I take it easy for at least a month."
Amy exhaled, visibly relieved. "Well, that's good news. Things have been rough lately with crime on the rise. We could definitely use you back at the office once you're healed."
Her eyes fell on the sketch lying face-up on the bedside table. "Oh, who drew this?" she asked, picking it up and looking at it closely. "This guy is seriously good-looking. Is he real?"
Matthew hesitated, but then he shrugged. "A friend drew it. Said he saw this guy on the street and was so impressed that he had to sketch him from memory."
Amy raised an eyebrow, glancing from the sketch to Matthew. "You sure he's real? I've never seen anyone look this perfect!"
Matthew laughed. "Maybe he was exaggerating a little. But hey, next time my friend spots him, I'll make sure to grab a contact number for you."
Amy shook her head, amused. As they continued talking, she mentioned something about a recent robbery. "You probably heard, right? Another bank got hit last night. A gang tried robbing Terry Bank, but get this—some kind of super-villain showed up and stole the goods from the robbers themselves! By the time the cops arrived, the gang was there with gunshot wounds in their ankles, unable to flee. But the big guy? Gone without a trace."
Matthew listened closely, connecting the dots. He had an idea of who that "super-villain" might be, and he wasn't liking the answer. "And the police are holding a briefing?"
"Yeah," Amy replied. "There hasn't been a major bank robbery in a while, so they're taking it seriously. The press conference is scheduled for tomorrow morning to reassure the public."
Matthew frowned. The police were clearly feeling the heat. "Sounds like they're getting desperate."
"Desperate's putting it mildly," she said, glancing at her watch. "Anyway, I should let you rest. I'll check in tomorrow."
As she left, Matthew lay back, thinking over everything. He knew that with all eyes on this case, it was only a matter of time before the city found itself in more chaos.
Across town, New York Police Commissioner George watched his own department's image crumble under online criticism. Gray-haired and visibly worn down, he sat alone in his office, scrolling through a barrage of complaints. Years of effort had led him to this role in one of the most chaotic cities in the world, and yet his hands felt tied. As an ordinary man in a world filled with mutants, vigilantes, and superhumans, his efforts often seemed insignificant.
He'd repeatedly requested the assistance of a super-soldier or some kind of enhanced protector for the city, but every time he was met with the same answer: resources were strained, research projects suspended, even the super-soldier serum development was on pause due to a recent containment breach. All he could do was keep the peace as best as possible and hope the vigilantes took care of the real threats.
Tomorrow's press conference weighed heavily on his mind. As he rehearsed his speech in his head, exhaustion finally took over, and he fell into a restless sleep.
Meanwhile, Noah was also reflecting on his own situation. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he couldn't help but think about his recent activities. The cash he'd acquired was piling up, but without a way to launder it, it was only a matter of time before it became a liability.
"Money's getting tight," he muttered, stretching his arms and preparing for another workout. "I need a better plan."
He glanced at his phone, briefly considering his options. He'd need a safe way to "clean" the money. Maybe someone in the Multiverse Chat Group could offer a suggestion. For now, he'd just continue pushing his training, hoping that soon he'd break through the limits he'd set for himself.
Unbeknownst to Noah, in a shadowy warehouse across town, a group of heavily armed men sat huddled around a table. The leader, a muscular man with a prominent scar running down his cheek, leaned forward.
"Tomorrow morning at nine, the police are holding a press conference," he growled. "Half the force will be busy, and that'll be our window. We'll hit them when they're least prepared."
One of his men raised his hand. "Which bank are we targeting?"
"Lanshell Bank," Scarface replied confidently. "It's got the highest reserves and their security isn't anything we can't handle."
The men nodded, eager for the score. But none of them realized they were overlooking a critical detail: the bank's lax security wasn't by accident.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Still got exams...
So, this is my first time doing this. I hope you guys can help me improve by providing your feedback, and some stones would be nice. (づ ◕‿◕ )づ