Bonus chapter
500 gems = bonus chapter
Advanced chapters at:
patreon.com/posts/become-hero-in-127390237
***
Hell's Kitchen. Ah, even the aroma of this small neighbourhood makes my sense of justice tremble. A small neighbourhood populated by gangsters and immigrants for the last hundred and fifty years.
In the mid-nineteenth century, it was overrun by the Irish, who actively shared the city with the rest of the newcomers. "Gangs of New York" is a great film that tells about these events. Filmed on the book and accurately enough conveying all the dirt that took place on these streets.
Later on, many people tried to come here and only the Puerto Ricans succeeded. After World War II, the city was experiencing a new influx of refugees and migrants who were willing to settle in even the seediest parts of the city.
In my world, there was a wonderful period here in the eighties when the city prosecutor put away most of the criminals. Bars and brothels were shut down, prostitutes were dispersed, and the backbone of the Irish and Puerto Rican mafia were behind bars.
Hell's Kitchen was given a chance to rise. Its proximity to the business districts made it a great place for middle-class living.
But all that was left there, in a past life, and here....
The wind picked up crumpled newspaper pages from the ground, pushing them to my feet. The rustle of soggy, tearing paper was perfectly associated with the Hell's Kitchen neighbourhood.
Turning the front page toward the sky, the Time newspaper flashed a black-and-white photograph of a vigilante who had once again wreaked havoc on local mobsters. The barely distinguishable silhouette in the photograph was awe-inspiring. A tight suit with small horns. Red filters instead of eyes, a frightening atmosphere of mystery. A true master of the image.
And today I entered this devil's territory, hoping that our meeting would bear fruit.
I didn't put on a mask today, there's no point in it. The man I'm looking for doesn't rely on sight, and he won't reveal my identity to just anyone.
-Phew.
I was worried. Only knowing the identity of Matt Murdoch, a blind lawyer defending ordinary people, kept me going, ignoring the cruelty of his alter ego.
Without knowing his real identity, I would never have come here in my life.
Simple facts and no fear. If a battle were to break out between us, I'm unlikely to come out of it victorious.
The cigarette leaves my mouth, flying straight into an open rubbish bin. The fading flames of ash fade next to my shoe.
-Good.
Good thing I decided not to give up my hat. The first raindrops sprinkled from the sky, slowly washing down the dirty streets, chasing the many hustlers and whores home.
It's a beautiful time. If it were up to me, the rains would be pounding the city, driving all the scum under the roofs and into their warm flats.
The bell above the door announces my arrival. The pretty secretary, who had been calmly going home until now, takes her eyes off the desk with a ready-made refusal to receive me, but stops at half a word.
I walk past her, gently adjusting my hat, merely signalling a greeting. I must act defiantly, silently and without fear.
Footsteps on the old wooden floor make a creaking sound. In some places you can see loose boards and wide gaps. This place has surely known better days.
A palm clad in a leather glove smoothly lowers the doorknob, revealing a spacious office. A crumpled Nelson & Murdoch sign dangles from the side of the entrance. I fix it with a light hand, putting the piece of metal back in place.
With a confident gait, I quickly slipped inside, closing the door behind me so that the secretary couldn't stop me.-Ahem, Mr suspicious-looking man in a vintage raincoat- I don't mean to be rude, but we're closed.
-I'm looking for Mr Murdoch.
-Erm. OK, but I'm telling you, we're closed and Matt went home half an hour ago.
-Oh, shit.
-Excuse me?
-I said, can you tell me where I can find him?" I lifted the brim of my hat and tried to give him the most serious and dangerous look I could muster.
-Okay," Foggy pulled a piece of paper out of his notebook and scribbled a few addresses on it, "here you go.
-It's too easy.
-Excuse me? You're talking too quietly, I-
-Nothing, nothing. Thank you.
"Fuck, this is embarrassing."
Covering myself with my hat and raising the collar of my mackintosh higher, I left the office under the bewildered stares of Foggy and the secretary, hiding my flushed cheeks.
***
-So, let's try this again," I stood in front of the old gym, easily identifiable from the comics and the film. It was where Murdoch's famous teacher had taught him everything he knew," I hoped it was the right place this time, because I was getting tired of running around the neighbourhood looking for a blind lawyer.
The most embarrassing moment was at church, where I piled into the church with my usual pathos, but failed miserably in the service. Two dozen orphanage kids glared at me, collectively aghast at such a performance. The only one who kept his composure in that situation was the local priest, who affectionately invited me to pray with them.
God, I haven't felt such shame in a long time. After apologising and running outside, I buried my face in my hat.
But now I'm pretty sure my target is out there. I asked a couple of grannies sitting on the veranda of the neighbouring house, just in case. It's embarrassing to be flashy and end up bumping into other people.
-Come on, Shawn, pull yourself together. -Come on, Shawn, pull yourself together.
The slap on the cheeks echoed in the street. Even though there was no one around now, and the rain was picking up, I felt like I was being watched. Ever since I'd struck up a conversation with a couple of Puerto Rican grandmothers.
They gave me a beef pie, too. Spicy as fuck. So now instead of cheap cologne adding a couple of points to my image, I smelled like onions, garlic, and pastries. Mum's tramp.
"Maybe I should have had another cigarette. First impressions are very important...".
Before I could finish the thought, a man's voice came from the ajar door.
-Come in already, stop crumpling in the rain, or you'll get soaked to the skin.
A shiver ran through his body. Murdoch had a voice to match. Deep and husky, the kind of voice I could still grow into. You need real experience to scare the shit out of criminals and whisper languidly in a girl's ear.
-Sorry for the intrusion.
-I've been waiting for you. I didn't see Matt. In the darkness of the old hall, his voice could be heard everywhere, creeping me out. What do you want?
-Did you know I was coming? How?!
-... I got calls from half the neighbourhood saying some fool's playing detective.
-Yeah, that was awkward.
The door closed behind me, but I didn't fall for the trick and waited for Murdoch to come down from the ceiling, standing upright.
Oh, he was cool. Eyes glittering, jaw so sharp and brutal you could cut rocks. And he put on a suit for me! It was a top. I could barely contain myself, feeling the excitement building in my chest. There he was, standing right in front of me, the real Daredevil. Alive!
-Are you okay?
-А? Yeah, it's just, I'm a fan, you could say that.
-No way," Murdock stepped from toe to heel and started to circle me, forcing me to stand in the centre of the room, away from the door, cutting off my escape route, "I haven't been doing this long, so...
-Me too, so I keep track of anyone who tries to bring a little order to the streets of the city!
The important thing was not to lie. Although, considering how excited, thrilled and scared I am in front of the man standing across from me, he doesn't know if I'm lying or just crazy.
-You're weird. And too young. Isn't that a little early?
-Like criminals have an age limit?
My confidence was slowly returning to me. I folded my arms across my chest and shook my hat mockingly.
-You didn't answer the question," Murdock finally stopped, making some sort of decision for himself about me so that a fight would probably be avoided. Why did you search and scare the hell out of Hell's Kitchen?
-I need to get stronger.
-You need to study.
-I'm an excellent student," I rebuff the first argument and take the offensive. "The enemies are getting bigger, the gangs are more dangerous, and they're getting cockier every time. To continue helping people, I have to become stronger, and my wits and Thai boxing alone are not enough.
-What do you mean?
He wanted details. Too bad I can't read people that well, and it wouldn't have worked with a talking brick like that. Throughout our dialogue, Murdoch never once showed any emotion on his face.
-I'm doing okay so far, but my last raid on a den of bandits almost sent me to Valhalla....
-What?
-Yeah, I'm just kidding. -Yeah.
-Cut it out.
-I get it.But his voice is so good at conveying his attitude, it makes me want to stretch out.
-What happened?
-A couple of fractures, dislocations, broken cheekbones, bruises, cuts and a taser that sent me tumbling down the stairs.
-That's quite a list. Who did that to you?
-Yeah," I waved my hand in frustration and looked around for a seat, but unfortunately the room was pristine, "local dealers. A dozen shitheads, though I managed with them, but the girl....
-What girl?
Daredevil's voice was threatening. His body remained relaxed, but there was a tense warning in the air that my answer might change the conversation. Apparently Matt hadn't met his killer girlfriend yet, and therefore thinks women are pretty defenseless. Naive New York guy.
-The hooker, she slept with the gang boss, and when I disarmed everyone she tasered me, throwing me down the stairs.
-Wow, that's an interesting development.
-Yeah, unbelievable.
The memory made my ribs ache and the burn scar on my chest itch.
-But what do you expect me to do? I understand your problem, but...
-Teach me how to fight," I interrupted him with a wave of my hand as he was about to throw in a prepared response, "for real. With multiple opponents, using my surroundings, my senses, the interior, and the enemies themselves....
-It's too much to ask, but do you have anything to pay with? -Where?
-How? I'm fighting crime and hiding my identity. All such heroes are by definition destitute.
-Ahem, indeed.
-So what's it gonna be? Can you teach me? I'm not asking you to tell me any secret techniques or anything, just to train me... And I could use some experience fighting strong opponents, because my Thai boxing teacher's been drinking more and more lately, trying to overtake my dad.
-You shouldn't say that to the first person you meet.
-But you got a crush, didn't you? Did it hurt, even a little bit?
-Hey," Daredevil's staff flew into the hall, hitting the light switch, "maybe.
-Does that mean?
-I'll give you a... "tutorial."
Murdock shook his head, inviting him to step into the improvised arena in the centre of the room.
-That's a different conversation.
***
-Fucking hell, mate! What happened to your face? Were you trying to suck on a beehive or something?
-Haha," I sluggishly fought off the jokes and attacks of Parker and the others, and sat back down on my desk, amazed at the crowd around us, "why are you all standing here? I mean, we're from different social groups and all that....
-Look who's got some clever words.
Sitting down on Pete's desk, thus driving all of the guy's blood to his face and another part of his body, MJ raised an eyebrow mockingly.
-Come on, what's your gang doing here?
-Hey!
-Well, you said it yourself, they're my gang-
Laughter erupted from all sides. A group of teenagers in the prime of puberty - what better way to celebrate after being mauled half the night by Daredevil.
Now I just wanted to do my time and hurry home to recover, because tonight I'd have another "date" with the devil from Hell's Kitchen. And it's been like this for three weeks now.
You know, I guess that's how you get that feeling you've seen in books, films and games before. It's brought me down to earth. Despite all my injuries, I thought I was a pretty good fighter, but Murdoch was quick to explain to me the difference between our skills. At one point, I thought he was beating me on purpose to keep me from being a hero. But the Irish blood of the Sullivan family would not let me back down! Despite all the blows, grabs, and throws, time after time I got back up, shaking my hands to block the pounding blows that could break bones.
In our first fight, Daredevil did not hold back at all, showing off his strength, flexibility, and skill. He easily dodged most of my punches, only checking them a couple of times and allowing me to reach the body of a mixed martial artist. With his phenomenal echolocation-like hearing, he predicted my punches, deftly avoiding them like a stream of water flowing around.
And he wasn't using his staff, which he can use to grind bricks into dust, unlike last night, when the damn blind man knocked me out with a stick, before giving me a good going-over.
I hope Murdoch takes pity on me tonight and doesn't beat the shit out of me, or I'd hate to spend the whole weekend in bed.
I can feel it in my ass that the devil's not going to stop, and he's going to beat the shit out of me for as long as possible, testing and tempering my character until he's sure I'm solid.
-Sean, stay awake or you'll miss the whole meal.
-Yes, yes, I'm coming, Mummy. -Yes.
I reflexively dodged Pete's punch in the shoulder, ignoring his indignant sniffle. There's only a couple of lessons left, I hope I don't pass out in them.
***
-So you're alive?
-Well," I took a breath and stood in front of Murdoch, preparing myself for more pain, "even this torture you call training fights has its rewards.-Hmm, like what?
-If I get tasered again, I probably won't feel a thing.
-You've gotten braver since we first met," Matt grinned at my response and intercepted his staff, swinging it into a fighting position in one slick motion, "Well, stop being so dramatic. Get ready to fight.
Today I decided to try something new. Since I started my training, the old gym had changed a lot, gradually taking on the shape of a real dojo. Pikes, pancakes, racks of dummies and weapons. Every night more and more equipment appeared here, and tonight I finally decided to use it, because Murdoch's stick was too strong.
At the beginning of the battle I had to sacrifice my cloak and hat, which flew towards the blind man. I knew he'd dodge them easily, but it gave me a couple of seconds to get to the staff stand.
-That's new.
-That's what's gonna happen.
Instead of the fight Murdoch was expecting, I just started throwing whatever I could get my hands on at him. At some point he got tired of it, and the man in spandex quickly closed the distance between us, bringing his weapon down on the defenseless mannequin.
I jumped around them, trying to strike, covering myself with items of equipment and occasionally launching them towards Murdoch, stopping his movements and forcing him to dodge or kick pancakes and kettlebells.
This time our fight lasted almost fifteen minutes, during which time I managed to throw most of the things in the room, turning the well-kept dojo into a branch of chaos.
-That's enough," Matt unwrapped the staff in his hand and tucked it deftly into its sheath, "much better. I was afraid I was going to have to start using objects myself to get you to start thinking.
-You could have given me a hint. It's all your pathetic speeches and fighting stances in the centre of the circle," I grumbled, pointing my finger at Murdoch's smirking face and our arena, hiding my joy behind contrived emotion, "that's created this whole Eastern atmosphere of mystery. Who knew that instead of dueling, I should-
-Think. That's it, Shawn.
-Right, how long have you known your name?
-I'm blind, not stupid.
-И? You're not even gonna ask me anything?
-No, I've learned enough on my own," Murdock removed the mask with a hint of a glance in my direction, "just like you did.
Scratching my head awkwardly, I didn't even know how to react. I didn't want to tell Matt that I was a reincarnated man who knew more about him, his future and his past than the man himself.
-Besides, you didn't come here to talk, you came here to learn.
A staff exactly like Murdoch's flew into the air, landing in my palm.
***
Don't forget to donate gems.
And subscribe at:
patreon.com/FanFictionPremium