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Chapter 8: Daredevil
🕑 Added 2025-10-07 15:35:33 +0000 UTC
"B-big bro… I-I really d-don't know anything… I'm just a nobody… please let me go~!!"
The thug could barely form words, trembling with sheer terror.
"Alright."
Lucas spoke faintly—and with a single slash ended his life.
"Next time, try to be a better man."
He even put the one writhing on the ground out of his misery, cutting him down as well.
Lucas had thought killing would make him uncomfortable, but to his surprise, it felt no different than killing a chicken .
Maybe it was because he had no real attachment to this world. Aside from caring about his family and friends, he felt nothing for strangers.
After leaving three corpses behind, Lucas kept wandering through Hell's Kitchen, aimless.
He considered trying to track down someone like Daredevil or the Punisher, maybe even Kingpin, to dig for answers. But where would he even start? Daredevil was the easiest—he was a lawyer and ran a practice. But Lucas had no idea where that office was.
"This isn't getting me anywhere."
With a few agile leaps, Lucas landed on the roof of a nearby apartment, scanning the streets below for gang activity.
Sure enough—being higher gave him the advantage. Not far away, dozens of figures were clashing, a mob swarming a lone man.
With his sharp eyesight, Lucas immediately recognized the one being beaten down—Daredevil.
"Well, speak of the devil."
He dashed across rooftops, swiftly closing in on the scene.
Down below, Daredevil was locked in a desperate melee against black-clad figures dressed like ninjas. No guns, no modern weapons—just blades and fists, raw steel against will.
Even Daredevil couldn't hold out forever. Dozens against one was too much, and he was slipping, his defense breaking.
A blade swung down, aimed for his neck—
Clang!
A clear, ringing sound. A crystalline blue sword plunged from the heavens, striking the ground before Daredevil. The ninja's weapon shattered against it instantly.
"Who goes there?!"
The ninjas snapped their heads upward, as did Daredevil.
"I've got a few questions for him. So how about you wait until I'm done before you kill him?"
Lucas's calm voice echoed from above as he leapt down, landing gracefully.
With his strengthened body, such a drop was nothing to him.
"You dare interfere in the affairs of the Hand?!"
The leader stepped forward, clad in silver light armor, his face uncovered unlike the others. This was Xin—disciple of Murakami, and one of the Hand's "Five Fingers."
"Do they ever listen to reason?"
Lucas sighed, glancing at Daredevil with a helpless look.
Daredevil just shrugged silently. Lucas's arrival had given him breathing room—time he badly needed to recover.
"Pumpkinhead, you've made an enemy of the Hand. You won't live long."
Xin's katana flashed, a blur of steel arcing toward Lucas.
Lucas didn't even flinch. He raised the Ultima Weapon and caught the strike with ease, then countered with a slash of his own.
Xin dodged nimbly, his blade flashing again and again, each strike faster than the last.
"Wind Claw!"
Lucas barked the command.
In an instant, spectral talons slashed out before him, ripping through the air with terrifying speed. Xin's armor shredded apart, his chest torn into a mangled mess of blood and flesh.
Boom!
Lucas kicked him away. Xin's body crashed against the wall, his chest nothing but ruined meat. He wasn't getting back up.
"He killed Master Xin! Kill the pumpkinhead!!"
The other ninjas only processed what had happened after Xin's body fell. Rage and fear blended as they charged.
Lucas didn't waste time. Another flurry of Wind Claw shredded through them, ending the fight in moments.
Though blind, Daredevil could feel the storm of slicing wind and hear the screams cut short. His face showed shock—this boy couldn't be more than twenty, yet he had wiped out an entire squad of Hand ninjas with a single move.
"Who exactly are you?" Daredevil asked, voice steady but edged with awe.
His heightened senses told him Lucas's age despite the mask.
"Who I am isn't important. I just have a question for you."
Lucas dismissed the Ultima Weapon and turned toward him. He noticed this Daredevil resembled the version from the Netflix series—one Lucas had always preferred, maybe because of the darker tone and better fight choreography.
"Come with me. This isn't the place to talk."
Daredevil could sense Lucas's lack of hostility. If this kid had wanted him dead, he'd have walked away during the slaughter.
Soon, Lucas followed him into a hidden apartment safehouse. Nobody lived there, so Daredevil used it as a base. No electricity, just pale moonlight streaming through the windows.
"Not bad. Makes for a decent safehouse."
Lucas scanned the room easily despite the dark.
Daredevil chuckled faintly as he lowered himself into a chair, wincing with every move. A normal man with his injuries would be unconscious, but years of battles had left him scarred and stubborn.
"You're hurt. Want me to patch you up?"
Lucas pulled off the pumpkin mask—sweat poured down his face. The thing was suffocating. Not like Daredevil could identify him anyway. Blind or not, the most he could sense was a general outline.
Daredevil stripped off his top, revealing deep cuts across his arms and chest, blood still seeping out.
"If you don't mind. There are supplies in that cabinet."
Lucas grabbed gauze and antiseptic, helping him dress the wounds. For all his frailty, Daredevil's body did heal faster than an ordinary human.
Once patched up, Daredevil sagged against the sofa, careful not to tear open the fresh bandages.
"You said you had questions. What is it?"
"Earlier today, a gang opened fire on the NYPD. Do you know who they are?"
Lucas's tone grew sharp. He was throwing a desperate dart—hoping Daredevil, who lived and bled in Hell's Kitchen, might know.
To his surprise, Daredevil nodded.
