“I never thought the day would come when you and I would be fighting side-by-side!” A flash of cold light, and a throwing knife buried itself into an enemy’s forehead.
Bullseye dispatched the thug who had been trying to sneak up on Daredevil, unable to resist a sarcastic jab.
His tone was laced with a strange, unprecedented mockery.
“You really are Bullseye?!” Daredevil confirmed the identity of his partner from the voice alone, and he instantly felt a surge of regret.
“If I’d known it was you, you scoundrel, I wouldn’t have bothered to interfere.” The blind man’s cane whipped out like a bamboo lash, striking a goon’s hand with a sharp crack.
The man dropped his gun in agony.
Before the weapon could even hit the ground, Daredevil struck with lightning speed, grabbing the thug by the collar and crouching low, using the man as a human shield against the incoming fire.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Blood bloomed as the thug took seven or eight rounds meant for the vigilante.
At the same time, Bullseye let fly a series of knives, taking advantage of the distraction to silence several more gangsters.
“Regrets are useless now.
We’re in this together!” Bullseye winced as he glanced at the blood seeping through his shirt.
He was a professionally trained assassin who usually bore pain with silence, but the movement of his shoulder muscles as he threw the knives had jarred the wound, forcing a stifled groan from his lips.
“Aren’t you Fisk’s lapdog?
These are his men.
Why are they attacking you?” The scent of gunpowder hung heavy in the air.
Daredevil shoved the corpse aside and leaped into the air.
With a flick of his wrist, a mechanical device at the tip of his cane deployed a steel cable, hooking onto a nearby shipping container.
The winch retracted instantly, yanking him up and out of the center of the fray.
Bullseye took cover behind a container, panting.
“Lapdog is such a derogatory term.
He pays me, I work for him.
I prefer to call it a ‘collaboration’!” “Collaboration?” Daredevil sneered.
“So, has your ‘collaborative relationship’ broken down?” “Actually…
no!” Bullseye dispatched another thug with a single knife, then hauled the body over by the ankle to use as a makeshift barrier.
The moment the others saw the corpse move, they opened fire.
Bullseye scrambled back into cover.
“Finish them off, Daredevil.
I need a gun!” Yes, you read that right.
Bullseye—the man who lived for his hidden weapons—was now begging for a firearm.
The pain in his shoulder was simply too much to ignore; a gun was efficient, and right now, all he wanted was to end lives with the twitch of a finger.
Daredevil heard the request, circled behind the containers, and climbed down like a lynx.
Trained by the master Stick, he was a virtuoso of martial arts; when it came to cleaning up the trash, he still trusted his fists more than lead.
He moved through the shadows.
As he drew near the vigilant thugs, he whipped out his steel cable like a poisonous snake striking from the darkness, wrapping it around a goon’s arm.
With a powerful tug, he dragged the man into the void.
The remaining goons panicked, spinning to pour gunfire into the shadows.
Bullseye seized the opening, dragged the corpse into his cover, and snatched two handguns from its belt.
Click.
The sound of the slides racking echoed in the silence.
Bullseye’s eyes sharpened.
“You little bastards!
Having fun, are you?
Let ‘Big Brother’ teach you how to use these properly!” He sprang from cover like a tiger emerging from a cage.
He leaped two meters high, twisting in mid-air.
Bang-bang-bang!
Gunfire erupted in a steady rhythm, and he landed on his feet just as the shell casings hit the concrete.
Across from him, the thugs lay dead, each with a single, precise hole in their foreheads.
They had died without ever knowing what hit them.
Daredevil’s red-clad figure emerged from the shadows.
He inhaled the metallic tang of blood and shook his head.
“To be honest, that was too bloody.” “I don’t see a difference between killing with a fist or a gun,” Bullseye replied with a savage grin, reloading his weapons and turning toward the next squad of incoming men.
They had once been his subordinates; now, they were merely bodies in his path.
Facing a god of marksmanship, the battle was completely one-sided.
Within moments, the remaining thugs were slaughtered.
“A feast of slaughter—a perfect finale!” Loki appeared, clapping his hands in mock applause.
Bullseye, catching sight of the trickster, felt his blood boil and fired a shot without a second thought.
As expected, it was just another illusion.
“No need for such hostility.
I think we have plenty to talk about.” Loki manifested elsewhere.
Daredevil’s head tilted, his expression shifting to curiosity.
“Who is this?
I can hear his heartbeat coming from behind, but his voice is coming from the left.” “You can hear his heartbeat?” Bullseye’s spirit surged at the news.
He had been played like a fool by this nameless bastard, forced to kill his own people.
If there was a way to kill him, he wouldn’t hesitate to send him straight to hell.
“Where?” “Fifty paces behind you.” Bullseye didn’t hesitate.
He spun around and emptied his clip into the empty space.
Cling-clang.
Shell casings rained down.
Loki, hiding in plain sight, finally revealed his true form.
He casually brushed the bullets off his armor as if they were dust.
“It seems Midgard isn’t entirely populated by fools,” Loki laughed, plucking a bullet that had been stuck in his helmet.
“Your strength has earned my approval.
Now, kneel!” He threw his arms wide, a brilliant, divine light radiating from his entire body.
“Submit to me!
In the name of Odin’s son, Loki the Trickster, I shall bring you into the fold of the gods!” “Odin’s son?
Loki the Trickster?” Seeing him stand unscathed after a barrage of bullets, Bullseye was genuinely confused.
The idea that he was speaking to a figure from myth seemed impossible, yet the evidence was right in front of him.
“Impossible.
There are no gods in this world!” Bullseye glared at him, refusing to buy the charade.
“You son of a bitch, you’re still trying to pull this scam!” “If lead can’t kill you, I don’t believe this won’t blow you to pieces!” Bullseye pulled a grenade he’d swiped from a thug’s belt, yanked the pin, and tossed it directly at the Trickster’s face.
Loki caught it, smiling.
Having spent his life in Asgard, he clearly hadn’t recognized the device.
He held it for a second too long.
BOOM!
A deafening roar erupted.
Fire blossomed in the night, and shrapnel whistled through the air as the force of the explosion sent Loki flying backward into the dark.
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