Daredevil finally understood.
The man in front of him wasn't just dangerous.He was a full-blown lunatic—someone who lived entirely in his own twisted logic.
"You're a murderer! You belong in jail!" Daredevil growled, holding back the fury boiling in his chest.
Daniel only snorted, as if the accusation amused him."Relax. I've never been to jail. If it weren't for the faction restrictions, I'd honestly try the wanted system just to relive the good old Los Santos days."
Daredevil's stomach tightened.
Not only did this man treat human lives like trash—he regarded law, morality, and order as nothing but a joke.
He had to be stopped. Here and now.
Without another word, Daredevil leapt from the lamppost. Mid-fall, a red billy club shot from his hand like a bolt of lightning, aiming straight for Daniel's wrist.
Bang!
A gunshot split the air—Daniel's bullet struck the club perfectly, knocking it off its path.
But Daredevil landed the next instant, yanking his arms. The two clubs snapped back into his hands via the chain connecting them. His feet shifted, and he lunged forward with explosive speed.
Bang! Bang!
Two quick shots.Two crisp clinks as Daredevil's spinning clubs deflected both bullets.
"A stick, blocking bullets?" Daniel raised an eyebrow. Then shrugged. "Well, superhero game."
By then Daredevil was already in front of him, clubs swinging downward.
He knew Daniel's terrifying long-range precision. Only close combat—dragging the fight into his preferred distance—could eliminate that threat.
He moved to launch his signature "Six-Strokes-in-a-Second" combination—
"Muay Thai Warning!"
Daniel's low shout came first. A heartbeat later, he surged forward, slamming a brutal knee straight into Daredevil's ribs.
[Skill: Muay Thai Warning]Effect: Max-level Muay Thai TechniqueEvaluation: One warning. Next time, full Muay Thai.
The blow caught Daredevil completely off guard. His ribs screamed with pain, air blasting from his lungs. Gritting his teeth, he kicked off Daniel's stomach and leapt backward, desperate to create distance.
Daniel calmly holstered his Golden Desert Eagle and shifted into a perfect Muay Thai stance.
"You've got guts," he smirked. "Trying close quarters with me? You didn't know Strength is my highest attribute?"
Daredevil really didn't know.
Who could possibly expect an archer with god-tier aim to also be a close-quarters monster?
He clutched his aching ribs; a few had likely cracked.
Daniel clicked his tongue. "What's wrong, Lawyer Matt? Hemorrhoids flaring up?"
Daredevil froze.
"…What did you say?"
Daniel grinned. "Oh, drop the act. The name above your head told me everything."
Floating clearly above Daredevil's head, Daniel saw it:
Matt Murdock.
The blind lawyer from this morning.
Matt's expression darkened.
He hadn't made a sound to reveal himself, hadn't slipped even once—yet Daniel still knew.
Daniel admired Matt's stunned look like a painting."Wow. By day you're a respected lawyer, by night you squeeze into tight leather to wrestle sweaty criminals. What a rich inner world you have."
Matt: "…"
I fight crime. Why does it sound disgusting when you say it?
Daniel tilted his head. "But I'm curious—how does a blind guy see?"
"That's none of your concern," Matt replied coldly. But the denial itself confirmed everything.
Daniel shrugged. "Tell you what—answer honestly, and I won't expose your… hobbies."
They are NOT hobbies!
Matt hesitated, weighing the danger.
"…Fine."
He explained quietly, "I am blind. But my other senses are far sharper than ordinary. I perceive my surroundings through them—movement, vibration, even the flow of air. Also—put down your middle finger."
Daniel lowered his hand awkwardly. "No offense. Just testing."
He glanced at Matt's pained posture. "Anyway… you're talking a lot of righteous nonsense for someone half-broken."
"You've crossed the line of the law," Matt insisted. "Turn yourself in. It's not too late."
Daniel blinked innocently. "What crime?"
"Murder," Matt said coldly. "The evidence is right at your feet."
Daniel widened his eyes. "Slander! I don't kill people. He's just taking a nap."
Matt: "…"
There was so much blood on the ground it looked like a slaughterhouse.
Daniel snorted. "Besides, so what if a gang leader dies? People like him ruin lives. Even a thousand deaths wouldn't be enough. If handed to the law, he'd get a few decades. With expensive lawyers, he'd be out in five years."
Matt gritted his teeth.
As a lawyer—he knew Daniel wasn't wrong.
"The law must judge him," Matt insisted.
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "What if he killed your friend? Would you still cling to that?"
Matt hesitated. "…The law would deliver justice."
"And what if I killed your friend?" Daniel asked lightly. "That chubby guy. Foggy."
Matt's heartbeat spiked sharply.Daniel noticed.
His smile turned razor-thin.
Then he suddenly sighed—bored.
"Forget it. You really never know pain until it's at your own throat."
A large cleaver materialized in Daniel's hand.
Matt's eyes widened—"WAIT—!"
With a swift motion, Daniel chopped down at Hammerhead's corpse.
A spray of blood. A thud.
Daniel lifted a severed head by the hair.
"Now it's under ten kilograms."
Matt was frozen in horror.
Daniel waved casually. "Bye, Lawyer Matt. I'll visit sometime."
His figure vanished—along with the freshly chopped head.
Leaving behind only the cold alley, a headless corpse, and a shaken, speechless Daredevil.