She had worn gloves throughout the encounter, so her fingerprints wouldn’t be found at the scene.
Given the inefficiency of the New York Police Department, no one was going to track her down for a gunshot residue test just because a few gang members had been killed.
After returning to the apartment, she once again declined Maki’s offer to scrub her back and stood beneath the shower, trying to wash away the lingering discomfort of taking a life for the first time.
The tree longs for stillness, but the wind never stops.
She had never intended to cause trouble, yet trouble had found her anyway.
After finishing her shower and putting on a bathrobe, she sat down at her computer and began searching for the location the tattooed man had given her.
The place was well concealed.
The surrounding area was a blind spot for security cameras, and after searching extensively, she found no obvious signs of people entering or leaving.
Madam Gao was one of the Five Fingers of the Hand and an elder exiled from the sacred city of K’un-Lun.
She appeared frail enough to be knocked over by a gust of wind, yet she had lived for more than four hundred years, dating back to the Ming Dynasty.
She wielded Chi with extraordinary mastery.
Shattering massive boulders from a distance was only one of her many abilities.
After four centuries of traveling the world, she had mastered countless martial arts, and Chi enhanced every aspect of her physical abilities—strength, speed, and reflexes alike.
Daisy had no desire to make an enemy of someone like that.
Unfortunately, they had already crossed paths.
Every subordinate Madam Gao had sent after her was dead, making Daisy the obvious suspect.
Besides, Madam Gao wasn’t the police.
She didn’t care about evidence.
Only results.
Daisy concluded that she had to strike first.
Even if she couldn’t kill Madam Gao, driving her out of New York would still be a victory.
For the next several days, she observed the location from a distance through binoculars.
The operation was extremely discreet, but no matter how careful people were, they always left traces.
As she suspected, the place was a “laundry detergent” processing plant.
Judging from the exterior, the underground facility appeared to be enormous.
Above ground, however, there was only a small entrance guarded by two heavily armed men carrying submachine guns.
Every night around midnight, the small door opened.
A blind courier carrying a satchel would slowly emerge to deliver the goods.
This was Madam Gao’s operation in New York.
Seeing the courier’s empty eye sockets filled Daisy with anger.
Whoever had done this deserved to answer for it.
She resisted the urge to act immediately.
Charging in alone was something the Punisher would do.
Not her.
In both her previous life and this one, she considered herself an ordinary person.
She had no desire to play the hero.
Instead, Daisy decided to seek help from the police.
Although corruption was widespread within the New York Police Department, there were still a handful of honest officers.
Rather than hacking into police records, she simply searched through the department’s publicly available personnel information.
George Stacy, Commissioner of the New York Police Department, Gwen Stacy’s father, and Spider-Man’s future father-in-law, would have been an ideal ally.
Unfortunately, his position kept him constantly occupied with meetings, making him nearly impossible to approach through ordinary means.
As for other well-known honest officers, the only one Daisy could remember was Big Daddy.
Unfortunately, he had already resigned.
After narrowing down her options, she settled on Brett Mahoney, a patrol officer from Hell’s Kitchen.
He was one of the few officers known for refusing bribes.
A friend of Daredevil, Brett genuinely believed in maintaining order throughout Hell’s Kitchen.
Daisy had met him before.
Her predecessor had grown up in the neighborhood, although they had never been particularly close.
As Brett rounded a street corner, Daisy subtly adjusted her vibration frequency to make herself appear especially trustworthy before hurrying toward him.
“Excuse me, Officer.” She deliberately looked flustered, as though she had finally found someone she could rely on.
“I recognize you,” Brett said after studying her for a moment.
“Is something wrong?” Daisy glanced around cautiously before lowering her voice.
“I found a processing facility.
They’re forcing people with disabilities to manufacture and distribute illegal products, and it’s operating on a large scale…” Brett’s first instinct was to dismiss the story.
Something this serious wasn’t the kind of situation a young woman should be investigating on her own.
Yet the subtle sense of trust inspired by Daisy’s vibration frequency made him listen instead.
By the time she finished, cold sweat had formed on his forehead.
Whether the information was true or false, it represented a case far beyond the responsibilities of a patrol officer.
After a moment’s hesitation, he answered honestly.
“I’m only a patrol officer.
If what you’re telling me is accurate, you should report it at the station.
I can take you there.” If reporting it at the station were enough, Daisy wouldn’t have sought him out in the first place.
She was convinced that if she reported it through normal channels, someone would alert the criminals before any investigation could begin.
Naturally, she couldn’t say outright that she believed corruption existed within the department.
“Don’t you need evidence?” she asked.
“Come with me tonight and see it yourself.
I don’t have a gun, and I don’t know how to fight…” She deliberately made herself sound vulnerable.
Brett considered her proposal.
If he filed a report immediately and it turned out to be false, the consequences would fall squarely on him.
If he verified the information first, however, he would have solid evidence regardless of how the case unfolded.
Even honest officers wanted promotions.
No one wanted to remain a patrol officer forever.
Looking at Daisy, who appeared to be an ordinary young woman, he finally nodded.
Late that night, Daisy and Officer Brett Mahoney concealed themselves inside a small building roughly two hundred meters from Madam Gao’s processing plant.
“Is that the place you were talking about?” “It doesn’t look very large.” Daisy smiled.
“Look at the height of the building.
It’s about a meter taller than a normal structure.” “Doesn’t that seem strange?” “I calculated the area’s electricity consumption and water usage.
There has to be a large underground facility beneath it.” “My conservative estimate is that it could hold well over a hundred people.” While they spoke, the small door opened.
A thin man carrying a white cane slowly emerged, tapping it against the ground as he walked.
Even in the dim light, the satchel slung across his shoulder was clearly visible.
His movements were slow and unsteady.
As a friend of Daredevil, Brett had encountered blind people before.
He could immediately tell that this man had genuinely lost his sight.
“Is he the courier you mentioned?” “But why…” Daisy gave a cold smile.
“Why use someone who’s blind?” “Because they’re less likely to be searched.
Even if they’re caught, they often receive lighter treatment.” “And besides…” “He wasn’t born blind.” Seeing the evidence with his own eyes erased Brett’s remaining doubts.
If this had been nothing more than a legitimate business employing visually impaired workers, there would have been no reason for armed guards carrying submachine guns to protect the entrance.
Something was clearly hidden behind that small door.
Daisy spread out another sketch she had prepared.
“The courier gets into a car at the second intersection ahead.” “I don’t know where the vehicle goes after that.” The clues she had gathered were limited, but together they painted a clear picture.
This wasn’t a minor crime.
It was a large-scale operation involving manufacturing, processing, and distribution, with an entire network waiting to be dismantled.
Brett looked toward Daisy.
She met his gaze with complete seriousness.
“If everything you’ve told me is true,” he said slowly, “this case is far too large for the precinct to handle.” “You think information would leak?” Daisy asked.
Brett silently nodded.
No one in the department was naïve.
Officers who accepted bribes inevitably left traces.
Their colleagues noticed.
They simply chose not to talk about it.