The current situation in New York was quite complex.
Hydra, the Red Hulk, the Leader, and the Green Goblin; the Avengers; Wolverine and the Black Knight; Blade; and some members of the Justice League.
In the shadows, there were dozens of supervillains from Latveria, Batman and the Hulk, as well as Captain America and the Enchantress, who were suspected to be hiding out in the dark.
Furthermore, Batman had not forgotten that S.H.I.E.L.D. was highly likely to be sending people toward Manhattan at this very moment.
Manhattan was merely a large island at best, and by the time the Fantastic Four joined the chaotic fray, the sun had finally risen above the horizon.
If the battles in the dark of night were dominated by stealth, assassinations, and misdirection, then once day broke, the conflict shifted into a head-on offensive.
Those Hydra soldiers acted like emotionless machines devoid of pain and fear, recklessly charging into brutal, hand-to-head combat against the superheroes.
Even though they were chopped and crushed like vegetables under Wolverine's adamantium claws, Jessica's fists, and Blade's edge, shattering upon impact, the Hydra soldiers behind them still offered up their heads one after another.
The primary battlefield was divided into three sections: Stark Tower and its surrounding area, Times Square and Fifth Avenue, and a five-kilometer radius around the Baxter Building.
The combat styles across these three battlefields varied as well. Gathered around Stark Tower were Wolverine, Daredevil, and others.
Their battle with Hydra was a bloody spectacle; blood pooled into rivers on the ground, severed limbs and shattered bones scattered everywhere, and one could occasionally spot a head split into four clean sections.
Wolverine, Daredevil, and Black Widow were completely drenched in blood—most of it belonged to Hydra, while a small portion was Wolverine's.
Relying on his mutant healing factor, Wolverine was even more fearless than the Hydra soldiers. He completely abandoned all forms of defense, channeling all his strength into pure offense.
Almost every single second, new wounds would slice into Logan's body, blood pouring out, only for the wounds to heal as new ones took their place.
Daredevil and Black Widow both utilized batons as their weapons, though Daredevil did not use his billy clubs for close-quarters combat. Instead, he gripped the thin wires extending from the ends of the clubs, wielding the twin billy clubs like a pair of flail weapons.
Only when the enemy drew near would Daredevil choose to snap the two billy clubs together, using them as a single staff.
Unlike Wolverine, whose every strike cost at least two lives, Daredevil did his best to keep his hands from being stained with blood.
However, he quickly realized that unless he completely dislocated the joints of the Hydra soldiers' limbs, they would not lose consciousness even if a heavy blow was landed squarely on their heads.
It was as if they possessed no brains at all, lacking the body's natural self-preservation mechanism that usually triggers after a severe blow to the skull.
On a battlefield where one could lose their life at any second, it was impossible for Daredevil to slip up to each Hydra soldier individually just to dislocate their joints.
"Lord, please forgive me," Daredevil muttered under his breath, kicking a billy club outward and sending it plunging deep into a Hydra soldier's eye socket.
As he forcefully yanked the thin wire attached to the billy club, the weapon tore free from the Hydra soldier's eye, its tip coated in white brain matter and fragments of an eyeball.
Black Widow's twin batons could not be manipulated as freely as Daredevil's; her combat style was straightforward and brutal.
Relying on the electrical current integrated into the tips of her batons, any Hydra soldiers she crossed would collapse to the ground in convulsions, their survival uncertain.
As time wore on and the electrical charge was completely depleted, Black Widow simply wrenched a firearm from a Hydra soldier's grip. Using Wolverine's body as a shield, she engaged in a firefight with Hydra.
Her marksmanship was incredibly precise; almost every time she raised her hand, a bullet would find a Hydra soldier's head.
With a firearm in her hands, Black Widow's efficiency in harvesting Hydra lives multiplied, outpacing even Wolverine.
By the time dawn arrived, the street beneath Stark Tower was littered with the corpses of Hydra soldiers—well over a hundred of them.
At the very center of the dead, Wolverine stood with his body slightly hunched, blood dripping from his adamantium claws one drop at a time. He had completely lost himself to a bloodlust, a low growl continuously rumbling from his throat.
Daredevil and Black Widow were both leaning against their respective weapons—one on his billy clubs, the other on a rifle—panting heavily.
"Wolverine, what are you doing in New York?" Black Widow asked between breaths.
"As expected of a spy. Even at a time like this, you're still looking to gather intelligence on me," Wolverine mocked.
Black Widow shook her head. "Logan, you and I have known each other for decades. You know I'm not with Hydra. There's no need to be so hostile toward me."
"Heh." Wolverine merely responded with a cold sneer.
Daredevil could not fully grasp the context of their conversation, nor did he intend to.
Though Daredevil could not see the street covered in Hydra corpses, he could smell the thick, heavy scent of blood, and his heightened senses allowed him to perceive the piled-up bodies.
He was unwilling to linger here any longer. None of the three possessed a means of communication with the other Avengers. Daredevil tilted his ear to listen, picked a direction, and stepped out alone.
Black Widow and Wolverine exchanged a glance. During the previous battle, they had already noticed that Daredevil's senses were incredibly sharp. Seeing him take the lead, the two simply followed after him.
Not long after Wolverine's trio left the area, two dark silhouettes—one tall, one short—stealthily sneaked over.
Looking at the field of Hydra soldiers where not a single corpse remained intact, the taller shadow could not help but arch his back, violently retching up a large mouthful.
"Useless," the shorter shadow scoffed, curling his lips.
These two were none other than the Black Knight, Dane Whitman, and Venom Robin, who had just rushed over from the direction of the abandoned shipyard.
"I'm useless? Then you're a monster," the Black Knight cursed, having emptied everything from his stomach.
They had engaged in plenty of skirmishes with Hydra in the streets not far from the abandoned shipyard.
However, Dane Whitman had never killed anyone during his six years of wandering, and Venom Robin was terrified of the old Bat monitoring him.
Consequently, the two of them had fought for a long time without killing a single person; instead, they had methodically broken the bones and dislocated the joints of every single opponent.
Operating this way was far less efficient than Wolverine's group, which was why—despite Venom Robin's immense strength—they had still arrived a step too late.
"They're heading toward Times Square. Let's go meet up with them," Venom Robin urged the Black Knight, showing no interest in the field of corpses.
The Black Knight half-knelt on the ground, using his ancestral Ebony Blade like a cane to prop himself up. "No way, I need to rest for a bit."
His physical conditioning was that of an ordinary human, not even reaching the peak of human capability.
It had been less than a month since his transition from a beggar to his current state. Although he had undergone training under Batman and Venom Robin, the Black Knight was still struggling to keep up at this moment.
"Useless," Venom Robin mocked mercilessly, casually tossing his double-bladed giant axe a hundred meters into the air, then tilting his head back to catch it seamlessly as it plunged back down.
"I really can't do it, let me rest a moment... Huh?" Dane Whitman, the Black Knight, stopped halfway through his sentence, suddenly turning his gaze toward the southwest as a strange sensation washed over him.
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