"How about this? You tell me what's going on with your eyes, and I'll tell you who hired me. Sound fair?"
Deadpool spoke in a tone so sincere it almost sounded genuine.
Of course, anyone stupid enough to believe him would deserve what came next.
And Daredevil was very clearly not stupid.
He couldn't be bothered wasting any more breath on Wade.
A man like this—someone who talked nonstop and sounded unreliable from the first word—wasn't worth trusting no matter what came out of his mouth.
Sure, Daredevil could hear a person's heartbeat and usually tell whether they were lying.
But that only worked on ordinary people.
Against someone who had professional training—or someone so shameless he could spew nonsense without the slightest change in pulse—that method was useless.
And the lunatic standing in front of him just so happened to qualify as both.
"Don't worry," Daredevil said coldly. "I'll make you tell me everything."
The next instant, he exploded forward.
A flying kick tore straight toward Deadpool.
"So cold. I'm trying to bond with you here."
Deadpool complained, tapping one foot against the wall and launching himself backward.
Clang!
Metal rang out sharply as the twin swords on his back flew free and landed in his hands.
With a flourish, he spun them through the air, drawing two bright arcs.
"Let's dance!"
"And by dance, I mean…"
"Let's kill each other."
With that, Deadpool charged in with blades drawn.
Daredevil rushed him head-on.
The two of them crashed together in a blur of movement.
At first, they traded strikes back and forth.
But very quickly, Daredevil was forced onto the defensive.
His hand-to-hand skills were formidable.
Unfortunately for him, Deadpool was on another level.
This was a man who could cut bullets out of the air.
How was Daredevil supposed to handle that?
And at this stage, Matt still hadn't forged his proper suit or weapons.
No armor.
No protection.
Just his fists against Wade's blades.
From the start, he was already at a disadvantage.
Slash!
Before long, Deadpool's sword ripped across Daredevil and sent him crashing to the ground.
A long wound split open across his body.
And that was only the beginning.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
The sickening sound of flesh being cut apart rang out again and again.
One sword wound after another carved across Daredevil's body, crisscrossing over him until he was drenched in blood.
By then, the tearing pain in his muscles and the mounting blood loss had already made his steps unsteady.
And yet Daredevil was like an unkillable cockroach.
Every time he was knocked down, he gritted his teeth and forced himself back to his feet.
"What a stubborn guy. I love stubborn guys."
Deadpool rambled as he fought, as if they were chatting over drinks instead of trying to murder each other.
"Three years ago, I had a dog. Don't get weird—I'm not comparing you to the dog. I really did have a dog."
"Every time I ate a burger or a hot dog, it would try to steal my food."
"No matter how hard I smacked it, it never learned. Kept coming back. Stubborn as hell."
"So in the end, I killed it."
"I liked it."
"But I still killed it."
Deadpool's voice turned almost cheerful.
"Buddy, I like you too."
"But I'm still going to kill you."
He finished that mountain of useless nonsense, then flipped through the air in a beautiful arc and lunged at Daredevil again.
Both swords came down at once.
Slash!
Daredevil's movement froze.
Because one of Deadpool's blades had already cut open his throat.
Thud.
Daredevil dropped straight to the ground.
The Devil of Hell's Kitchen—the man who had kept the city's criminals gasping for air under his pressure—had reached the end of his life just like that.
It was a bitter thing to witness.
Deadpool walked over, bent down, and yanked the mask off Daredevil's head.
Then he looked at the man's eyes.
They were wide open.
Dead even in death.
"Shit. He really was blind."
Deadpool muttered under his breath.
A blind man that strong?
That was just unfair.
"As expected of you, Mr. Wade. Truly impressive."
A voice full of admiration sounded from the darkness.
Wesley walked out with a group of men behind him.
Excitement was written plainly across his face.
Their boss's greatest headache—Daredevil—was finally dead.
It hadn't been easy.
Wade had just removed a massive thorn from their side.
"If you really want to flatter me, I think actual benefits would be better." Deadpool looked at Wesley seriously. "Like adding another hundred thousand to my fee."
"Mr. Wade, I have a better suggestion." Wesley's mind was already moving. "Why not come work for my boss instead? He values talent above all else. Forget a mere hundred thousand—more money would be no issue."
"Pass. Because if someone hires me to kill your boss one day, then what? Do I take the job or not?" Deadpool asked with complete seriousness.
Wesley knew exactly what kind of person Wade was and didn't bother taking offense.
He simply gestured to one of his men.
The subordinate immediately stepped forward carrying a briefcase.
He opened it in front of Deadpool.
Inside was a suitcase packed tight with cash.
A rough glance was enough to tell it was a full million.
"Mr. Wade, your one million. Not a dollar missing."
Snap.
Deadpool immediately shut the case and lifted it with a grin.
"Perfect. Now I can buy another Devil Fruit."
After saying that, he suddenly fixed Wesley with a hard stare.
So direct and unblinking that even Wesley started feeling uncomfortable.
"Mr. Wade… why are you looking at me like that?"
For a split second, Wesley felt a cold shiver down his spine.
This lunatic wasn't eyeing him up for something weird, was he?
"Why didn't you ask what a Devil Fruit is? Aren't you curious?" Deadpool started spraying him with complaints. "Seriously, why do you always refuse to follow the script?"
"…Fine. Then, Mr. Wade, what is a Devil Fruit?"
Wesley was in a good mood, so he decided not to argue and even humored him.
"Shit, this sales pitch is way too forced. Boss, look at the sacrifices I'm making for you."
Deadpool muttered to himself before finally turning back to Wesley.
"A Devil Fruit is a fruit that contains miraculous powers. Like magic, basically. This face of mine? It was healed by a Devil Fruit."
"How miraculous," Wesley replied flatly.
He didn't believe a word of it.
Eat a fruit and a ruined face gets healed?
What was this, a cheap novel?
"That's right. Very miraculous." Deadpool nodded solemnly. "If your boss ate a Devil Fruit, he could kill Daredevil himself. He wouldn't even need to hire me."
"Anyway, go tell your boss there's such a thing as Devil Fruits. If you don't, that's your loss."
After throwing that out, Deadpool stopped wasting time.
Briefcase in hand, he vanished into the night.
Wesley, meanwhile, walked over to Daredevil's corpse and looked down at his face.
Then his expression shifted.
"It's him?"
The blind lawyer.
Matt Murdock.
Both Wesley and Kingpin had crossed paths with Matt Murdock before.
They just had never imagined that the man they'd never once taken seriously would turn out to be the same Daredevil who had caused them so many headaches.
As for the Devil Fruit nonsense Deadpool had mentioned?
Wesley had already forgotten it.
That kind of garbage couldn't fool a child.
Let alone him.