Frank’s business was over.
At least, it had nothing to do with her anymore.
She didn’t know that from the moment she “washed the car” until her final visit, Frank had been silently observing her.
He carefully noted everything about her, from her age and appearance to her height and the way she handled herself.
After she left, Frank made a phone call.
A deep voice answered from the other end.
“Old friend, I’ve heard what happened.
I’m very sorry.
There was no warning beforehand.
If there’s anything you need, just say the word.” Frank remained expressionless.
After a long silence, he said hoarsely, “Stay out of my business.” His words carried several meanings.
He was both refusing the offer of help and making it clear that he wanted no official involvement.
The man on the other end understood immediately.
“Fine.
I promise.” Silence fell between them once more.
Just as the other man was about to hang up, Frank spoke again.
“Nick, I saw a woman who fits your criteria for an adjutant.” “I’ve already found a candidate,” the other man replied firmly.
“I’m just passing along the information.
Whether you use it is your decision.” Frank quickly recited a string of identifying details before hanging up.
Looking up at the drifting white clouds, he felt an overwhelming sense of grief as thoughts of his family filled his mind.
Daisy had no idea that someone had taken an interest in her information.
Completely broke, she had nowhere else to go, so she returned to school.
However, she stayed for only ten minutes before walking right back out.
She had never gotten along well with the girls who often picked on her.
Her predecessor had been willing to put up with it, but now that she possessed a superpower and could fight her way through members of the Russian mafia, why would she tolerate a few school bullies?
Daisy’s usual outfit consisted of cropped pants, ankle socks, and canvas shoes, leaving part of her ankles exposed.
The style made her legs look longer and gave her a slimmer appearance.
Ten years later, people of every gender would dress this way, so it seemed perfectly ordinary to her.
To the other girls, however, it looked unconventional.
They were still following the trend of baggy pants, hip-hop fashion, long socks, and platform shoes.
One girl decided Daisy’s clothes violated the school’s dress code and tried to teach her “the rules.” Daisy answered with a loud slap across her face.
Then, relying on her overwhelming physical abilities, she knocked several girls to the ground with a few punches and kicks, picked up her bag, and walked out.
As she wandered the streets, she checked her wallet once again.
Did she really have to find a job?
Looking at Manhattan’s bustling streets and the endless stream of pedestrians, she couldn’t decide where to go.
She headed toward the convenience store where Angela worked, feeling no guilt about planning to have her best friend buy her lunch.
As she passed a street corner, four women suddenly burst out of a Japanese restaurant, fleeing in panic.
Several men rushed out after them, chasing them with knives and clubs.
Daisy only understood a few Japanese words, such as “baka.” Everything else sounded completely incomprehensible.
As luck would have it, she happened to be standing directly in their path.
The woman leading the escape desperately gestured for Daisy to run.
Behind them, the men continued shouting.
The Hand?
That was Daisy’s first thought.
But it didn’t seem likely.
The pursuers showed none of the discipline associated with the Hand.
Their footwork was clumsy, their breathing was ragged, and they looked more like ordinary gang members than highly trained assassins.
The woman in front had disheveled clothes and a pretty face marred by a slap mark on one cheek.
Blood stained the corner of her mouth, yet she kept running.
The other women were in equally miserable condition.
“Baka!” A man with a buzz cut grabbed the hair of the woman falling behind, yanked her violently to the ground, and raised the baseball bat in his hand.
Daisy could no longer stand by and watch.
She charged forward, kicked the buzz-cut man flying, and snatched the baseball bat from him.
She had no formal combat training, but with her enhanced physical abilities, dealing with a handful of gangsters was effortless.
A combination of swings and kicks quickly overwhelmed them, leaving the men sprawled across the ground.
“Run!” Hearing more people rushing out and the unmistakable sound of firearms being readied, Daisy immediately urged the women to flee with her.
As a native of Hell’s Kitchen, she knew the area well.
Leading the women through a maze of side streets, she successfully shook off their pursuers before finally stopping.
“We’re safe for now.” For Daisy, who could run through the Underground City for an entire day without stopping, this barely counted as a warm-up.
For the Japanese women, however, it had been an exhausting sprint.
The women hugged one another, still unable to believe they had escaped.
The woman who had been leading them looked at Daisy with open admiration.
She thanked her in halting English, bowing after nearly every sentence.
Daisy simply nodded.
The woman’s English was poor, but through a combination of broken sentences and gestures, Daisy pieced together what had happened.
Several college students chasing the American dream had been deceived into coming here, only to be forced into servitude.
When they realized something was wrong, they attempted to escape.
Unfortunately, they were discovered just as they reached the entrance.
They struggled to move the debris blocking the exit, and by the time they made it outside, their pursuers were already close behind.
If Daisy hadn’t happened to be there today, they almost certainly would have been dragged back.
A brutal beating would have been the least of their worries.
Daisy looked curiously at the woman in front.
“You said your name is Maki?
Maki Matsumoto?” “Yes.
I was too ashamed to use my former name.
This is my name now.
Please take care of me.” Maki Matsumoto bowed once again.
“What did you study?
Have you graduated?” “Law.” Daisy’s eyes lit up.
This woman would become someone famous in the future.
Maki Matsumoto.
A lawyer.
The Handmaiden.
All three details matched.
If Daisy hadn’t intervened today, Maki would one day witness Kingpin’s subordinate Bullseye slaughtering people without mercy.
That event would drive her into an obsessive fascination with him, eventually leading her to become Lady Bullseye.
Although she wasn’t on Quake’s level, she was still considered a notable second-tier character.
Now, however, without that experience, whether she would ever become a cold-blooded assassin remained uncertain.
Daisy escorted the women to the Japanese embassy.
Whether they returned to Japan or what happened afterward was no longer her concern.
The other three women thanked her with repeated bows before each leaving her an address, asking that if she ever visited Japan, she would give them the opportunity to repay her kindness.
Only Maki Matsumoto remained behind.
She bowed deeply toward Daisy.
“Is something wrong?” Daisy was genuinely worried the woman was about to ask to borrow money, which would have been incredibly awkward.
“The Handmaiden Johnson, I wish to remain by your side and become your retainer!” Her voice rang out loudly.
The three Japanese women, who had not yet gone far, and even the consul all wore expressions that seemed to say, “Just as expected.” Daisy nearly spat out a mouthful of blood.
What era was this?
A retainer?
She waved both hands repeatedly.
“I’m just an ordinary person.
There’s nothing about me worth serving.
You should follow the consul’s arrangements and return home.
Your parents are probably worried sick about you.” Maki Matsumoto bowed once more.
“I have brought shame upon my family.
I was blind, ignorant, and foolish, chasing impossible dreams.
Please accept me.” She bent into another perfect ninety-degree bow.
This time, she didn’t straighten back up.