"Matt, where the hell have you been these past few days?"
"Foggy, don't worry about it. I was handling some personal business. The place I was at didn't even have cell service, so I couldn't get in touch."
Matt Murdock, attorney at law, hurried to his law firm early in the morning. After greeting his partner, he settled quietly into his office.
Lately, the demand for legal aid had dwindled. Perhaps his absence had led some to assume he'd met his end at the hands of Hell's Kitchen's gangs.
After all, in a place like Hell's Kitchen, the only ones who truly believed in the law might just be the folks in this ramshackle firm.
Ordinary people's courage came and went quickly, especially when facing rule-breaking thugs.
Matt picked up the steaming coffee on his desk, taking a slow sip.
It was just cheap instant brew, but after days of choking down the barbarians' preserved rations, it tasted like a small luxury.
He still couldn't believe the barbarians stockpiled food that seemed designed to never expire.
The gritty, sand-like texture had taken him ages to get used to.
"Matt, someone's here for you!"
Through the office door, Matt heard his partner's shout.
Of course, Matt Murdock's sharp ears—honed by his blindness—picked it up easily. But this budget firm's flimsy walls offered little soundproofing anyway.
Matt sat still behind his desk, coffee in hand, listening as familiar footsteps approached.
"Hey, Matt Murdock, Esquire!"
"Hey, Luke."
Their voices were restrained, as if this were their first meeting.
But after getting used to the barbarians' booming tones, this politeness felt almost pointless.
"I've got some urgent business, and I need your help!"
Luke said with a grin.
He was ready to take on that creepy old lady, feeling better than ever.
The nagging sense of unease in his body had vanished during the relentless trials.
"Then let's get started."
Matt set down his coffee, smiling at Luke.
"First, we need to go over the details."
"Good morning, Mr. Bul-Kathos."
Wang greeted Bul-Kathos, clutching a handful of hay.
Bul-Kathos nodded silently in return.
Wang was used to it—Bul-Kathos was never one for words.
"Uh, I was wondering if you still have any of that magical spring water. I'd like to trade some of my collection for a bit."
Wang placed the hay in Mike's trough, hands on his hips, eyeing Bul-Kathos hopefully.
In the end, he hadn't eaten the white substance from the jar. Instead, he decided to ask Bul-Kathos if he could barter for some of that spring water.
To him, the water was miraculous but likely not too precious if it was used to feed a cow.
Bul-Kathos rummaged in his pack and pulled out a slender crystal vial, tossing it to Wang.
It was just a bit of Heaven's spring water—too potent for this world's mortals, perhaps, but hardly a treasure to him.
"You'd better dilute it and take it in small doses."
Bul-Kathos glanced at Wang, his tone matter-of-fact.
The amount was barely a sip, likely manageable for a mage's constitution, but diluting it would spare him some suffering.
Not everyone could slide-tackle a tiger, after all. Humans varied.
Take Bul-Kathos: in a fit of rage, he'd unleashed his Berserker's Wrath and cleaved off Diablo's head. Johanna, in her fury, could only chain a monster to her steed and drag it for eight hundred miles.
"Thanks for your generosity!"
Wang rubbed his hands excitedly, like a buzzing fly. He knew that water could transform him.
Bul-Kathos soon left the New York Sanctum with a pail of milk, trudging silently toward his forge.
He knew Rumlow would draw enemies to Harrogath and himself, but he couldn't be bothered to do much about it.
He'd just reinforced the metal in his forge's secret chamber to keep any mess contained.
Lately, he'd been planning to forge a new car to fulfill his promise to take Jill for a drive. He was already memorizing traffic laws.
It was tedious, but for a barbarian who'd gone centuries without much entertainment, reading was a decent pastime.
Once he left the Sanctum's perimeter, the agents tracking him picked up his trail again.
They couldn't pinpoint where he'd been, but days of surveillance had narrowed their focus to the Sanctum's vicinity.
No matter how hard they tried, though, they couldn't find the place itself.
"Mr. Bul-Kathos, I never got the chance to properly thank you."
Jessica Jones's voice broke through, annoying him slightly.
Ever since he'd hosted her, she kept showing up at his forge with the same excuse, mooching meals.
Food wasn't precious to Bul-Kathos, but her visits meant more trips to the Sanctum.
That was a hassle, at least for him.
"So, Jessica, planning to swing by the forge for dinner again?"
Bul-Kathos wasn't thrilled, but there was no need to get mad.
To him, Jessica Jones was like the recruits back in Sanctuary—young, full of energy.
Like a kid, really. In his eyes, she wasn't much different from Jill.
He waved the milk pail in his hand, addressing her with a hearty grin, almost teasing.
"Oh, I was just thinking of dropping by soon. Since we ran into each other, let's head there together!"
Jessica was clearly delighted. Since drinking that miraculous milk, she'd started to break free from the pain of Kilgrave's control.
No more splitting headaches. No more relying on booze to escape her torment.
She still loved her liquor, though—something she and Bul-Kathos had in common.
Bul-Kathos said nothing more, taking the lead.
Jessica Jones, with a physique similar to Luke Cage's, didn't seem to need a trip to the Holy Mountain.
Death was the fate of most warriors, and unless necessary, Bul-Kathos had no desire to set her on that path.
This world wasn't steeped in despair anymore.
Author's Note
By the way… I saw a comment from someone who hasn't read the book but questioned how someone without Nephalem blood could become a barbarian.
Well… I think I mentioned early on that this book has a lot of secondary world-building…
And I'm pretty sure I noted in the text that passing through the secret realm grants a trace of Nephalem blood…
This kind of feedback makes me a bit sad…
Maybe I should add to the synopsis that the timeline's messy and there's plenty of secondary world-building?
Events will follow a chronological order, but I'll keep specific time shifts vague…
If everything stuck to the original timeline, the protagonist couldn't be in multiple places to join the fun plots…
Right now, I'm juggling three concurrent storylines, carefully planned out: Rumlow's scheme, the Defenders' formation, and the Howling Commandos' actions.
Those are the main threads.
To bring something new, some changes are necessary, right?
I've said before that every character has a purpose, and the story's framework is woven into earlier chapters.
Maybe it'll turn out to be pretty interesting, don't you think?
One reader's comment guessed a big upcoming scene. Maybe I didn't hide it well enough?
Feeling a bit down about that…
(End of Chapter)
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