“Welcome,” Shaun Vance said, setting down his rag with the easy tone he used for any other customer.
“Table for two by the window?
The lighting is great there.”
“Sounds good!”
The blonde girl, Karen Page, pulled Matt over with a smile.
“I’m Karen, and this is my boyfriend, Matt.
Are you the owner?”
“Shaun Vance.” He handed them the menus.
“Today’s specials are egg fried rice and Kung Pao Chicken.”
Karen took the menu and flipped straight to the entrees page.
“Matt, how about egg fried rice and Kung Pao Chicken?
I heard they’re amazing!”
Matt smiled.
“Whatever you’d like.”
He reached out, his fingers lightly tracing the menu page.
The movement was so natural it looked like he was confirming Braille.
But Shaun knew the man’s tactile sense was so sharp he could “read” printed words just from the subtle raised ink on the paper.
Sure enough, when Matt’s fingers slid to the last page, they paused.
Karen was figuring out whether to order a soup, then looked up to see Matt subtly tilting his head.
“Matt?
Find something interesting?”
Matt gave a soft smile and turned the menu slightly toward her.
“The Devil Fruit guide on the back page is pretty interesting.”
Curious, Karen turned to the back.
Then her eyes went wide.
“T-Ten million dollars for a piece of fruit?!”
Her voice spiked.
“What is this?
An alien diamond?!
Wait…
these pictures…
a pineapple?
A watermelon?
And they look so ugly!”
Shaun happened to walk over carrying two glasses of water.
“Believe me, ma’am.”
He set down the glasses, his voice calm and unruffled.
“If you buy one and taste it, you’ll definitely find it worth every penny.
Mr.
Tony Stark has already bought two from me.”
“Mr.
Stark?!”
Karen’s attention instantly shifted, her gossip senses flaring.
“Really?
What did he buy?
What does it do?
Oh my gosh, is this some new product from Stark Industries?”
Shaun maintained a polite, enigmatic smile.
“Customer privacy prevents me from sharing details.
But as for the effects…
you can check the recent news.”
He was referring to the reports on Iron Man’s public debut.
Karen wanted to ask more, but Shaun had already turned away.
“Your food will be out shortly.”
Once Shaun entered the kitchen, Karen lowered her voice to Matt:
“Ten million…
I couldn’t afford that even if I sold myself.
But if Stark bought them, maybe it really is some kind of black tech?”
Matt didn’t say anything.
He picked up his glass and took a sip.
His extraordinary hearing picked up the sizzling oil in the kitchen, the steady beat of Shaun’s heart…
And deep within the restaurant, an indescribable, cold, and profound “aura.”
He recalled the scattered rumors he had picked up over the past few days while “working” in Hell’s Kitchen.
Gossip about Tony Stark’s abnormal physical condition after returning from Afghanistan, and secret talks about certain factions taking an interest in “non-traditional powers.”
This Owner Vance…
was anything but simple.
Ten minutes later, the egg fried rice and Kung Pao Chicken were served.
The aroma instantly filled the air.
Matt scooped up a spoonful of golden rice and put it in his mouth.
After a couple of chews, his eyes widened slightly behind his dark glasses.
“How is it?” Karen asked expectantly.
“Delicious,” Matt said earnestly.
“Every grain of rice is distinct, rich with the aroma of egg, cooked to absolute perfection.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had fried rice with so much…
depth.”
His super-taste could distinguish subtle flavors that ordinary people couldn’t detect.
To his heightened senses, this simple plate of fried rice was like an exquisite symphony.
The Kung Pao Chicken was equally mouthwatering—numbingly spicy, fragrant, the chicken tender and smooth, the peanuts crunchy.
Shaun was wiping a glass nearby and merely nodded upon hearing the praise.
“Glad it suits your palate.”
When the two finished eating and paid the bill to leave, Karen held Matt’s arm, sighing wistfully:
“That Devil Fruit is so expensive…
If it weren’t a fortune, I’d really want to buy one to try.
After all, even Tony Stark bought a second one.”
Matt listened with a smile without adding anything.
In his mind, however, a thought had taken root.
He didn’t have money, but Kingpin did!
He could just go “borrow” some!
…
Late the next night, at an abandoned pier in New York.
The sea breeze carried a salty brine, fluttering the hem of Matt’s Daredevil suit.
He crouched in the shadow of a shipping container, his radar sense fully engaged.
Sounds, scents, air currents.
In his mind, they constructed a three-dimensional panoramic view of the dock.
According to intelligence he had “extracted” from a low-level mob boss a few days ago, a large-scale gambling transaction handled by Kingpin’s men was taking place here tonight.
He planned to intercept it and, while he was at it, “borrow” some cash.
Maybe it would be enough to buy a Devil Fruit and give Karen a surprise.
But when he slipped into the intended deal location, his heart sank.
It was too quiet.
There was only a single open briefcase of cash, gleaming alluringly under the dim light, surrounded by complete emptiness.
A trap.
Matt turned to retreat immediately.
“Good evening, flea of Hell’s Kitchen.”
A deep, booming voice echoed through a megaphone, metallic and heavy.
Instantly, a dozen powerful spotlights flared to life atop the surrounding containers, exposing him completely at the center of the beam.
Over twenty armed men in black emerged from every corner, pointing their guns at him.
And right in front of him, a man in a tight tactical suit with a bullseye tattoo on his forehead strolled out casually, spinning two throwing knives in his hands.
Bullseye, Kingpin’s top assassin.
“The boss says you’re a nuisance.”
Bullseye grinned, revealing stark white teeth.
“Always ruining his business.
So tonight, I set up a little game just for you.”
Matt stayed silent, every muscle in his body coiled tight.
“That box of cash is real—five hundred thousand.” Bullseye pointed at the briefcase with a knife.
“Consider it your…
severance pay.”
“Once you’re dead, I’ll burn it for you personally!”
Before his words finished, his hand flicked!
The knife didn’t fly in a straight line; it curved unnaturally through the air, whipping around toward the back of Matt’s neck!
Matt ducked and rolled.
The knife grazed his scalp and slammed into the shipping container, sinking three inches deep.
“Tch, nice reflexes.” Bullseye whistled.
“But how many can you dodge?”
He flicked both hands, throwing five knives at once, locking down all of Matt’s escape angles!
At the same time, the surrounding gunmen opened fire!
“Bang bang bang bang—!”
A hail of bullets poured down.
Matt pushed his radar sense to the absolute limit, weaving and dodging through the gaps between the gunfire and throwing knives.
His cane whirled into a tight barrier, knocking away strays and blades.
But he knew he couldn’t hold out for long.
“Pfft!”
A knife slipped through his defensive blind spot with deadly precision, plunging into his left shoulder.
The sharp agony slowed his movements by half a beat.
“Pfft!
Pfft!”
Two more bullets grazed his thigh, spurting blood.
Matt gritted his teeth, hurled his cane with immense force to knock one gunman unconscious, snatched the man’s submachine gun to lay down suppressive fire, and sprinted toward a gap at the edge of the pier.
“Don’t let him get away!” Bullseye barked coldly.
More gunmen moved in to flank him from behind.
Matt was covered in blood, the knife still embedded in his shoulder, every step tearing at his wounds.
But he couldn’t stop.
The moment he broke out of the dock area, he shot a glance back.
Bullseye was raising a custom heavy shuriken, a cruel smirk curling his lips.
“Goodbye, blind man.”
The shuriken left his hand, spinning and ripping through the air straight toward the back of Matt’s chest!
Matt threw himself sideways with the last of his strength.
The shuriken ripped past his ribs, tearing off a large chunk of flesh before embedding itself deep into the wall ahead.
He stumbled to his feet, vision already turning black.
He couldn’t pass out…
couldn’t fall here…
Where to go?
Home?
They’d track him.
The hospital?
It would expose his identity.
In his chaotic mind, a place suddenly flashed across his thoughts.
That Chinese restaurant.
The warm light, the aroma of food, and that mysterious Owner Vance…
He didn’t know why he thought of that place, but relying on pure instinct, he dragged his heavily injured body and struggled toward Manhattan.
Dragon Pavilion, 9:30 PM.
Jessica Jones had just finished mopping the floor and was wiping down the tables.
Today was her first official day on the job, and Shaun Vance had told her to familiarize herself with the environment tonight.
She worked hard, as if doing so could repay his kindness.
Suddenly, a heavy thud echoed from the alley behind the restaurant.
Jessica raised her head alertly, tightening her grip on the rag in her hand, though it was hardly a weapon.
She crept over to the back door and peered out through the glass.
In the alley, a figure lay collapsed beside a dumpster.
Covered in blood, his black suit torn in multiple places, and the mask on his face broken, revealing the lower half of his face.
That face…
“Daredevil?!”
Jessica recognized him—Hell’s Kitchen’s famous vigilante.
When she had gotten her superpowers and ventured into Hell’s Kitchen as Jewel, she had been influenced by his deeds.
Without a second thought, she threw open the door and rushed out.
“Hey!
Wake up!”
Matt was half-unconscious, breathing faintly.
Jessica helped him up and dragged him into the shop.
Just as she reached the doorway, footsteps sounded at the mouth of the alley.
Five men in black appeared, led by Bullseye, whose right shoulder was bandaged and whose face was dark and grim.
“Hey, little girl,” Bullseye spoke, his voice raspy.
“Hand that guy over to me, and you can go back to living your peaceful little life.”
Jessica showed no fear.
“What do you want with him?”
“What do I want?”
Bullseye sneered.
“Boss Kingpin wants his life.
You sure you want to stand in the way?”
Kingpin!
Jessica had heard that name—the emperor of Hell’s Kitchen’s underworld, with countless lives on his hands.
Yet she didn’t step aside.
“He…
he’s my boss’s customer.”
Bullseye raised an eyebrow.
“Oh?
And who’s your boss?”
Before he could finish his sentence, a surge of bone-chilling white mist suddenly erupted from the restaurant’s back door, rapidly filling the entire alley.
The temperature plummeted.
Bullseye and his men instinctively backed away, their exhaled breath turning to frost in midair.
From within the mist, a figure stepped out at an unhurried pace.
Shaun Vance was still holding the cloth he used to wipe glasses, his expression as nonchalant as if he were taking out the trash.
“Gentlemen.”
He spoke, his voice ringing clearly through the icy fog:
“We’re closed.
Besides, anyone who steps through my door is my guest.
Coming onto my turf to touch my guest…
violates my rules.”
Bullseye’s pupils shrank.
He could feel that this mist was unnatural.
It wasn’t ordinary cold, but a…
corrosive frost.
The moment it touched his skin, it felt like thousands of tiny needles pricking him.
“You’re the owner?” Bullseye narrowed his eyes.
“I advise you not to meddle in business that isn’t yours.
No one has ever saved someone Boss Kingpin wants dead.”
Shaun didn’t reply.
Bullseye was infuriated by this dismissive attitude.
With a subtle flick of his hidden hand, a custom throwing knife slid silently into his palm.
The next second, it shot toward Shaun’s face at a bizarre angle!
The throw was fast as lightning and a sneak attack to boot—Bullseye was ninety percent sure it would land.
Yet Shaun barely lifted his eyelids.
He casually raised a hand.
“Clink.”
Two fingers caught the tip of the throwing knife with absolute stability.
The movement was effortless, like catching a falling leaf.
Bullseye’s face turned deathly pale.
Shaun glanced at the knife held between his fingertips and shook his head.
“Here, take it back.”
With a flick of his wrist—
“Whoosh—!”
The throwing knife blasted back along its original trajectory at a speed even faster than when it came!
Bullseye didn’t even have time to dodge before a sharp, agonizing pain erupted in his right eye.
“Pfft!”
The knife plunged precisely into his right eye socket, the tip poking out half an inch from the back of his skull!
“Aaargh—!!!”
A blood-curdling scream pierced the night sky.
Bullseye collapsed to the ground clutching his gushing right eye, his body twitching violently.
The remaining four mobsters were scared out of their wits, standing frozen in place, afraid to move.
Shaun looked at them, his tone remaining flat.
“Get lost.”
As if granted a royal pardon, the four scrambled to haul up the screaming Bullseye, tumbling over each other as they disappeared at the mouth of the alley.
The icy mist slowly dissipated.
Jessica stared at Shaun Vance, her eyes brimming with awe.
Shaun walked over to Matt’s side and knelt down to inspect his injuries.
“Punctured shoulder blade, two broken ribs, severe blood loss, multiple soft tissue contusions…
Tch, brutal.”
He hovered his right hand over Matt’s chest.
A faint pink glow flashed momentarily.
The rate of blood loss from Matt’s wounds visibly slowed, and a trace of color returned to his face, though he remained unconscious.
“B-Boss…” Jessica snapped out of it.
“Should we send him to a hospital?”
“Not for now,” Shaun stood up.
“First, get him into the guest room upstairs.”
Using her superhuman strength, Jessica carried Matt up to the second floor.
Shaun gave the wounds basic treatment, stopping the bleeding and saving his life, but intentionally left some flesh wounds unhealed.
“Boss, what do we do now?” Jessica asked worriedly.
“Will that Kingpin guy…”
“He will,” Shaun said directly.
“And I’m not his babysitter either, so we need to call someone to pick him up.”
He fished through Matt’s soaked suit, pulled out his phone, found “Karen” in the contacts, and dialed.
It rang five times before being picked up.
“Matt?
It’s so late…”
“Miss Page?”
Shaun’s voice was calm:
“Your boyfriend, Matt Murdock, is at my restaurant.
He’s sustained some injuries.
If it’s convenient, please come pick him up.
The address is Manhattan…”
“Injured?!
Is it serious?
What happened?!” Karen’s voice instantly turned frantic.
“Rest assured, he won’t die.
Also, I suggest you bring a clean jacket.”
With that, Shaun hung up and looked at Jessica.
“Wait here; his girlfriend will be here soon.
Once she takes him, clean up the guest room.”
“Understood, Boss.”
Shaun had already turned and headed downstairs, sitting behind the counter and closing his eyes to summon the system panel.
[Worldline Fluctuating Rate: 38% → 41%]
[New Key Character Contacts: Matt Murdock (Daredevil), Wilson Fisk (Kingpin)]
[Notice: The balance of power in Hell’s Kitchen has been further disrupted.
The street-level hero storyline has officially intersected with the main plot.]
A curve formed on Shaun Vance’s lips.
Let it get chaotic.
The more chaotic it gets, the more interesting it becomes.