C10: Do Good Things
A few hours later, Daredevil finally stirred and came out of his coma.
"Don't move. You're in critical condition."
In the dimly lit living room of a modest Hell's Kitchen apartment, Claire Temple nurse and confidante to more vigilantes than she liked to admit heard the noise from the couch and rushed over, stopping Daredevil just as he tried to sit up. "I don't have access to full medical equipment here, just a trauma kit and some antibiotics from Metro-General. If you don't want internal bleeding or a collapsed lung, you'd better stay down and let your body heal. And don't count on me playing ER for superheroes every night."
Her words had the desired effect. Matt Murdock exhaled sharply, clutching his ribs and easing himself back onto the couch, his cowl pulled halfway off, exposing bruised skin mottled in purple and blue.
"So, Matt," Claire said, her voice gentler now as she poured herself stale coffee from the half-functioning pot on the kitchen counter, "who laid you out this time?"
Her use of his real name Matt, was deliberate. She wasn't speaking to Daredevil, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, but to the stubborn man who often bled on her linoleum floor.
"Mrs. Gao," he muttered. "That old lady."
Claire raised a brow, eyeing him with visible skepticism. "Old lady? You look like you took a hit from Luke Cage."
"I know how it sounds," Matt said, wincing. "But I've fought The Hand's ninjas, gone toe-to-toe with Elektra when she's in full assassin mode and I'm telling you, Gao hit harder than anyone I've faced in months."
Claire's frown deepened. "She's the same woman who ran that heroin operation with Steel Serpent's insignia on the bricks, right? The one who walked away from an Iron Fist strike?"
Matt nodded. "She's more than she seems. There's something… ancient about her."
Claire sighed and leaned against the wall. "And how did you manage to get here? Because you sure didn't drag yourself in."
"Axing," Matt whispered the name.
Claire repeated it, puzzled. "Axing? Who the hell is that? Another street-level vigilante with a nickname?"
"No idea," Matt admitted. "I met him at Gao's synthetic heroin lab. Said he was from Penglai."
"Penglai?" Claire echoed, trying to place it. "You mean that mythical island from East Asian folklore?"
"That's the one," Matt said. "He disappeared before I could ask more. But I've got a feeling our paths will cross again."
…
"It seems you encountered some… complications, Mrs. Gao."
Inside the penthouse suite of Fisk Tower, Wilson Fisk better known in Hell's Kitchen as the Kingpin stood before the tall window, speaking with measured calm.
Mrs. Gao, leaning heavily on her carved wooden cane, smiled faintly. "As did you, Wilson. I hear your recent dealings with Nobu and the remnants of The Hand didn't go as planned."
Fisk turned slowly, his massive frame casting a long shadow. "A minor inconvenience. I retrieved what I lost."
He reached for his signature diamond-tipped cane and adjusted his cufflinks each engraved with the Fisk family crest.
This wasn't a social call. Two titans of the criminal underworld didn't trade barbs unless stakes were rising. Fisk studied Gao's ageless features and finally asked, "Do you require assistance rebuilding the Chinatown operations?"
"With your influence, I can reestablish the distribution channels overnight."
Gao shook her head. "No. The lab, the factory, the Triad middlemen it was all a means to an end. Convenience. Not permanence."
Fisk's brow furrowed. "Then what do you intend?"
"I need time," she said, stepping toward the door with that measured, unhurried gait. "To consider the next path. Perhaps... even beyond China."
Fisk blinked, uncharacteristically surprised. "Beyond China? Where then? Kun-Lun?"
"No," she said with a cryptic smile. "Farther than that."
Then, just before stepping into the elevator, she paused. "Before I depart, I have a piece of news you may find... fascinating."
…
"Daddy! Daddy, you're home!"
Escaping the inferno at Gao's lab, the middle-aged man staggered through the door of his small Brooklyn apartment. His daughter's delighted voice was the first sound he heard.
"Yes, sweetheart. I'm back," he murmured, eyes red with smoke and emotion as he scooped her into his arms.
When he laid her gently on the bed, he met the eyes of his bedridden wife, her face pale and anxious.
"You didn't…?" she began, voice trembling.
He said nothing only shook his head.
Her shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank God… thank God."
The man didn't mention the masked figure who had dragged him from the blaze, nor the supernatural aura he felt from that strange warrior. Some things didn't need to be said. Not tonight.
"Daddy, there's someone at the window."
The girl's voice pulled him back to the present. His heart seized. Fear spiked.
Was it one of Gao's men? Was retribution already here?
He pushed both his wife and daughter behind him and stared toward the window, shielding them.
"Please," he whispered. "They're innocent. I'll go back to the lab. Just leave them out of this."
But nothing happened.
No shadows moved. No masked intruders appeared. Silence.
He turned toward his daughter, who insisted, "Really, Daddy! There was someone there."
Cautiously, he approached the window.
His eyes widened.
…
[Legendary Status gained from Daredevil: +25]
[Fame gained from Claire Temple: +15]
[Fame gained from Mrs. Gao: +20]
[Fame gained from Wilson Fisk: +30]
[Reputation gained from New York citizens: +0.5]
[Reputation gained from New York citizens: +0.5]
[Reputation gained from New York citizens: +0.3]
Propelled by his upgraded [Vajra Legs] technique developed from a fusion of traditional Shaolin footwork and chi-infused movement Li Ran leapt from rooftop to rooftop across Hell's Kitchen with fluid grace.
He skimmed the data panel hovering in his augmented HUD, and a subtle grin played at his lips.
It wasn't just the sharp boosts in notoriety from high-profile figures like Daredevil or the Kingpin that amused him.
No it was the small, nearly negligible reputation points from ordinary New Yorkers.
That quiet, almost imperceptible shift in public perception.
"I never wanted to be a hero," he murmured. "But it feels… good to do good."
With that, he gathered chi into his soles, vaulted onto a high-rise fire escape, and disappeared once again into the shadows above the city.
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