[Vol. 3] Chapter 12: Daredevil’s Plan

Derek’s knees were going weak too. The frogman was grotesque, and he towered over Derek.

But his girlfriend was right beside him. Elizabeth’s tight grip on his arm gave him the courage to hold his ground.

The Batarang-shaped flashlight in his hand made him feel as though he had an endless reserve of strength. It was as if Batman himself were standing nearby, watching over him from the darkness.

“Not scared, kid?” The frogman narrowed his eyes. “Good. I like my food with a little courage. Makes eating it that much more satisfying!”

Derek took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. Despite the cold rain pouring down on him, tiny beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

He raised an arm toward the frogman and spread his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut and furrowing his brow.

“Are you a mutant, kid? Or some other kind of superhuman?”

Derek’s strange gesture put the frogman on guard. He dropped into a froglike crouch, his powerful legs braced beneath him. His webbed feet sank into the concrete.

He waited cautiously. The moment Derek attacked, he would dodge, leap at him, and bite his head open!

But after a long wait, there was still no sign of an attack. No fire or lasers shot from Derek’s outstretched hand. He wasn’t controlling the water, either.

The frogman sneered. “So you’re just a bluffing little brat! You think you can scare me? I’ll start with your thighs! Then I’ll eat your hands and make sure you die nice and slow!”

Suddenly, his stomach gurgled. He was seized by an overwhelming urge to shit!

“What’s going on? Did I eat something bad?”

The frogman clutched his belly. His bowels churned, and he could feel a torrent of watery shit threatening to burst out of his asshole. He could barely hold it in!

He needed to shit!

He really needed to shit!!

He really, REALLY needed to shit!!!

The frogman struggled upright, clamping his legs together to keep from spraying diarrhea on the spot. Clenching desperately, he pointed at Derek.

“You two stay right there,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m going to the toilet. Then I’m coming back to eat you!”

With one hand clutching his stomach and the other pressed over his ass, he waddled stiffly deeper into the alley.

“Run!”

Derek grabbed Elizabeth’s wrist. Abandoning the umbrella, they bolted for the alley’s entrance.

The two burst onto a street flickering with neon light, finally escaping with their lives.

...

Finn and Daredevil stood on a rooftop in the biting wind and rain, surveying the city.

In the distance stood the tallest building in Hell’s Kitchen—Fisk Tower. The Fisk Group’s illuminated sign flickered through the curtain of rain.

Wilson Grant Fisk was the president of the Fisk Group, a wealthy businessman, and a celebrated philanthropist.

He was also known as the Kingpin, ruler of New York’s criminal underworld.

“I’ve been investigating Kingpin for a long time,” Daredevil said. “He’s made himself look respectable, but he hasn’t given up any of his criminal operations. He’s just gotten better at hiding them.”

“So what’s the plan tonight? And do we really have to stand up here getting rained on? We could get struck by lightning.” Finn didn’t see the point.

“Beacon, you must be new to the superhero business. Standing on a rooftop on a rainy night, looking out over the city? It’s like being a lion surveying its territory. It looks cool!”

“So we’re just here to look cool?”

Finn fell silent. At last, he understood why superheroes loved standing on rooftops.

It was the same reason cool guys never looked back at explosions.

Pure fucking showmanship.

“Achoo!” Daredevil sneezed and sniffed. “On second thought, let’s find some shelter before we catch a cold.”

Beneath a plastic awning, Daredevil bounced on his toes a couple of times to shake the water off his suit, then laid out his plan.

“Kingpin destroyed a lot of evidence to hide his criminal past behind that respectable public image. He even had his own men killed to keep them quiet. But he’s committed too many crimes to erase every trace.

“Tonight, I’m going after a fugitive drug dealer named Marcus Leonard. He used to work for Kingpin and committed a number of murders on his orders. There’s enough to put him away for life, and he’ll be sent to Sing Sing Prison.

“He definitely doesn’t want to go there. He’s got plenty of old friends inside who’d love to fuck him in the ass and then kill him. He managed to escape during his last prison transfer, but now he’s back in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m going to bring him in.

“Then I’ll approach him as a lawyer. If he agrees to give us evidence against Kingpin and testify against him, I’ll defend him, push for a reduced sentence, and make sure he doesn’t end up in Sing Sing.”

A cold voice came from beside them. The Punisher stood there with an assault rifle.

“Then you’d better hurry. Otherwise, I’ll be giving him a death sentence instead of life.”

“You’ve killed too many people!” Daredevil snapped. “You’ve killed a lot of my potential witnesses. If it weren’t for you, I’d have a lot more evidence against Kingpin!”

“Oh, sure,” the Punisher sneered. “Every criminal working for Kingpin is a potential witness. They might have blood all over their hands, but they all deserve a chance to turn over a new leaf.

“All they have to do is sell him out, and they get to spend the rest of their lives in prison, nice and comfortable, with free room and board. Maybe they’ll even get to join a riot now and then and let themselves out early.”

“I think the Punisher has a point,” Finn said. “Why not just storm Fisk Tower and kill Kingpin? Problem solved.”

Daredevil refused to rise to the Punisher’s taunts. “Just wait. I’ll prove to both you and Beacon that the justice system works better than your vigilante executions!”

Then he turned to Finn. “If you kill Kingpin now, you won’t be killing a mob boss. You’ll be killing the president of the Fisk Group, a wealthy businessman and philanthropist! You’ll become a criminal yourself!”

Finn shrugged, unconcerned.

Every superhero agreed that Kingpin was evil. The American justice system couldn’t touch him, and the heroes’ own principles kept them from simply taking him out. Still, most of them would be happy to see him dead.

As for whether S.H.I.E.L.D., the FBI, or anyone else would put Finn on a wanted list, he didn’t care.

In a society dominated by superheroes, the force an individual could wield clearly surpassed that of the state. All Finn needed to do was stay on good terms with the superhero community and maintain the right public image.

Daredevil ran his fingertips over the raised markers on his watch face, checking the time.

“It’s about time. I can sense Marcus Leonard. He’s on Filin Road in the Thirteenth District. Beacon, let’s go get him!”