At first, hearing a customer ask for a car wash seemed perfectly normal to the burly man.
But after thinking it over for a second, he was dumbfounded.
From the voice, he could tell it was a woman inside the car.
Just how clueless would someone have to be to come for a “car wash” while two major crime bosses were in the middle of a negotiation?
His instincts told him the visitor probably wasn’t here for a car wash.
He immediately drew his weapon, ready to force the intruder to leave.
Daisy moved much faster than he did.
She slammed the car door open with tremendous force.
With a loud thud, the burly man’s head collided with the edge of the door.
If Daisy hadn’t been worried about damaging it, she could have hit him even harder.
The impact left the burly man staggering.
Before he could understand what was happening, Daisy grabbed him and yanked him back.
A crackling stun gun pressed against his neck, and after a brief buzz, his eyes rolled back as he collapsed unconscious.
Daisy nudged him with her foot, flipping him onto his back.
There were no firearms and no dagger on him.
Only a pair of brass knuckles fell from his pocket.
She had no idea how to use those.
Muttering to herself, she calmly looked at the remaining five people.
Even though the atmosphere was completely wrong, she still stated her purpose.
“Can you wash cars here?” Whether it was James Wesley, dressed in a crisp suit and square-rimmed glasses, or the Russians standing around him, everyone was stunned.
Were these really the kinds of excuses people used to start trouble these days?
James Wesley wore the expression of someone enjoying a good show and casually took two steps back.
The thin man suppressed his anger.
“I don’t care who sent you.
Get out.
Now.” Three more burly men moved in, taking the opportunity to surround Daisy.
She glanced at their weapons.
Whether they simply preferred hand-to-hand combat or wanted to avoid using firearms, the Russians were armed exclusively with melee weapons—clubs, daggers, chains, and similar weapons.
“Why can’t I get you to understand?
You’re far too paranoid…” Before they could complete the encirclement, Daisy sprinted toward the bald man on the left, who was holding a chain.
Chains are notoriously difficult to use, and the bald man handled his especially poorly.
Daisy easily surpassed him in both speed and reflexes.
She feinted past him, slipped through the opening, then kicked him squarely from behind.
The chain-wielding man stumbled into his companions while Daisy used the momentum to accelerate toward James Wesley, who had been watching from nearby.
James’s expression changed dramatically.
He might have been involved with the underworld, but he was a strategist and an assistant, not a fighter.
In the original timeline, his arrogance ultimately got him killed by Daredevil’s heroine.
His combat ability was minimal.
Before he could react, Daisy was already standing in front of him.
She drove a kick into his abdomen.
As he doubled over, she pulled an M1911 from inside his jacket.
She checked the magazine.
Seven rounds.
Then she glanced over the pistol itself.
“Oh?
A collector’s edition?
Mr.
Wesley certainly has good taste.” Once she was finished inspecting it, she pointed the gun at him and said something that left everyone speechless.
“Come on.
Tell them to wash my car.” “Are you insane?” James Wesley growled through clenched teeth.
At that moment, all he could think about was a cat-and-mouse game.
He didn’t believe for a second that she had actually come to wash a car.
The Russian thugs were equally dumbfounded.
They had never encountered anything so absurd before.
All of them turned toward their boss, waiting for his decision.
The thin man hesitated.
His subordinates only needed to charge in and fight, but he had to think about the bigger picture.
Capturing James Wesley was far more dangerous than capturing any of his own men.
If Kingpin’s assistant died here, any chance of cooperating on future real estate projects would disappear.
The two sides would become sworn enemies overnight.
James was more than Kingpin’s assistant—he was also his friend.
If anything happened to him, there would be no explaining it.
He mentally reviewed all of his enemies but couldn’t think of anyone who would send a woman to cause trouble like this.
Regardless of whatever conspiracy was behind it, James had to be rescued.
He turned to his men.
“Wash the car.” The subordinates obeyed and opened the door, immediately noticing the bloodstains across the back seat.
They set up the pressure washer and got to work.
In less than ten minutes, the entire car had been cleaned.
Afterward, they even replaced the stained rear seat cover with a brand-new one.
Still holding James at gunpoint, Daisy motioned for him to get inside the car.
She gave it a quick inspection.
The Russians were surprisingly skilled.
The vehicle was spotless, without a single trace of blood remaining.
She didn’t mention payment, and the Russians didn’t ask for any.
That was good news for Daisy, who had only five hundred dollars left.
The Russian thugs could only watch helplessly as she drove away with James Wesley as her hostage.
“Notify the other side that Mr.
Wesley has been kidnapped by an unknown woman.
Whatever happens after that has nothing to do with us.” The thin man sounded oddly amused, like someone content to sit back and watch the chaos unfold.
Meanwhile, Daisy drove away.
“You’re covering your face because we’ve met before, haven’t we?” James Wesley said, trying to piece together clues.
Daisy answered with something entirely unrelated.
“Mr.
Wesley is talented.
He speaks several languages, excels at socializing, understands modern capital operations extremely well, and is exceptionally capable.
With qualifications like yours, why work for gangsters instead of a major corporation?” James looked at her with curiosity.
She held the steering wheel with one hand while keeping the gun trained on him with the other.
He simply snorted, making it clear he had no intention of answering.
Daisy continued.
“If you had the chance to step into the spotlight and enjoy public recognition instead, would you take it?” James Wesley became increasingly confused.
Was she some kind of recruiter?
What sort of recruitment agency barged into a criminal organization, pointed a gun at someone, and tried to poach employees?
“What exactly are you trying to say?” “Just making conversation while I drive.” There wasn’t the slightest hint of sincerity in her voice.
After confirming that no one was pursuing them, Daisy struck James Wesley on the head, knocking him unconscious.
She tossed the elite operative—someone who longed for wealth and prestige but remained bound to the gang through loyalty and friendship—out of the car.
She briefly considered recruiting him.
He was undeniably talented.
But then she thought about his friendship with Kingpin, along with the fact that she only had five hundred dollars to her name, and abandoned the idea.
As a final gesture of goodwill, she wiped her fingerprints off the pistol and slipped it back into his jacket.
She reattached the license plate she had removed earlier, drove to another ordinary car wash, had the vehicle repainted, made a few additional modifications, and finally returned it to the rental agency.
After all that, there wasn’t much left of her five hundred dollars.
Sighing, Daisy took the bus to visit the future Punisher.
If he had already woken up and was willing to reimburse her expenses, that would be even better.
Normally, you shouldn’t expect a reward for saving someone’s life.
But she was genuinely out of money.
When she pushed open the door, she found the room empty.
Daisy extended her senses.
There was no trace of Frank’s vibration frequency anywhere nearby.
After examining the room, she concluded that he had left calmly and deliberately, without leaving behind so much as a single cent.
“He recovered awfully fast.
Is this guy really supposed to have the body of an ordinary person?” Shaking her head, she slowly walked away from the neighborhood.