Chapter 41 – First Encounter with The Hand
After a few consecutive days, Uchiha Akira gradually returned to his daily routine of training. During the day, he focused on taijutsu and chakra nature transformation; at night, he brought Uchiha Izumi along to sweep through Hell's Kitchen.
Poor Hell's Kitchen now only had a handful of gangsters left. After several months of relentless purges, the nightly "harvest" was becoming less and less. To Akira, these criminals were just like fields of chives: cut once, and they would regrow, waiting to be cut again.
This outcome was within his expectations. The main reason was that Akira had been far too ruthless. If it weren't for the fact that the gangs were tied down in Hell's Kitchen and couldn't abandon it easily, those few scraps of mobsters would have already fled long ago.
On unlucky nights, the mortality rate of gangsters appearing in Hell's Kitchen reached as high as ninety percent. Unless they were utterly desperate and had nowhere else to go, no gangster dared set foot there anymore.
This left Daredevil quite frustrated. He had just finished recovering from his injuries, only to discover that Hell's Kitchen's public safety was now even better than that of an ordinary inner-city neighborhood.
It had to be said—violence against violence might not be the best way, but most of the time, it was the fastest way to see results.
Of course, what truly frustrated Akira wasn't the reduction of criminals in Hell's Kitchen, but Jean, who woke him up with a video call every morning.
Every morning, she would call dressed in a different camisole with lace trim—white, pink, or black—constantly chipping away at Akira's willpower.
Every day she came up with a new way to strike at his biggest weakness as a man.
"Jean, can't you wear a little more clothing when you video call me?"
Akira was exasperated. This girl kept using her camisoles to tempt him, seriously affecting the quality of his morning sleep.
"I only dress like this when I video call you. Besides, I'm a devout Catholic, Akira. Don't worry—I understand the importance of chastity and self-discipline." Jean shifted her camera while quietly putting away her copy of The Asian Love Guide.
Yeah, right. Scott was still your ex-boyfriend.
Wait a second. Akira's thoughts shifted. If she was a Catholic, premarital sex was strictly forbidden… What was she implying here?
Was this some kind of hint? Just like in his past life when a girl "subtly" suggested he could drink ice water—it was practically the same thing. And how did Akira know about such hints? Please, he had studied romance theory to perfection.
Of course, in reality, no girl had ever hinted at him in his past life. A truly sad story.
Still, in Akira's view, it was more likely that he was overthinking it. Maybe she was just casually mentioning it.
There are three great illusions in life, and the biggest one among young men is: "She likes me."
"Anyway, I'm coming over today. You should be at the manor, right? Good, it's settled." Jean hung up the call without giving Akira a chance to object.
Thus, tonight's patrol became a three-person job.
"Jean, this really isn't convenient. People die during these missions. I don't think Professor Charles would approve of your decision."
Charles always treated mutants like children. Even killing in the name of justice and punishing evil was something he strongly opposed.
"Professor Charles may not approve, but I'm a free individual, and I have my own choices. I don't think there's any problem. Besides, you said it yourself—you're punishing evil and promoting good. I think I can completely accept that."
Jean insisted on joining the Hell's Kitchen operation, ignoring Uchiha Izumi's sharp, hostile glare.
"Alright then. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, you can quit. Everyone experiences all kinds of physical reactions during their first kill—that's normal. No need to worry too much."
Akira had no way to turn down this stubborn girl.
That night, they searched Hell's Kitchen as usual. But strangely, after more than three hours, they hadn't found a single suitable target.
"Forget it. Guess we're unlucky tonight. Let's rest and head back." Akira decided to call it a day since there were no targets.
But on their way back, they stumbled into a small incident.
A man in a red bodysuit was fighting against a group of katana-wielding ninjas. These ninjas were dressed in traditional Japanese shinobi garb—black night clothes, hair wrapped up, leaving only their eyes exposed.
The man in red was none other than Daredevil, whom Akira had previously taught a lesson. On the ground nearby lay a tattered, red-clad woman. Clearly, Matt wasn't running away despite being surrounded, because of the woman at his feet.
Matt's billy club smashed down and broke one ninja's leg with a crisp crack. But moments later, that same ninja stood back up and rejoined the assault.
Watching from a distance, Akira didn't immediately step in.
"Should we help?" Jean whispered, while recalling what she'd read in her book: Asian men are very patriarchal and dislike women interfering too much in their decisions. Seeking their opinion first and respecting their choice is the best way to win their favor.
Good grief. If Akira ever saw that, he'd give the nonsense author a huge thumbs-up.
"Wait a little longer, no rush." Akira racked his brain, trying to recall memories from his previous life. The ninja outfits looked familiar… weren't these just the stereotypical ninjas from movies and TV shows?
Could they be… The Hand? That made sense. The only ninjas connected to Daredevil were members of The Hand. These ninjas possessed the power of "immortality." Now, it was nowhere near Wolverine's level, but they truly could resurrect.
Whether the revived ninja was still the same person, though—that was hard to say.
Well, wasn't this just perfect? Exactly the special targets Akira had been looking for!
The Hand's leaders were Alexandra, Madame Gao, Bakuto, Sowande, and Murakami—undoubtedly a group of villains guilty of countless crimes.
It was like falling asleep only to have someone bring you a pillow. These guys were fresh, powerful "chives" sprouting up in his field.
Akira deeply understood the importance of having legitimacy for any organization or hero. No matter what, even if he was technically a villain, he couldn't act like one.
"Take them down. I want to try something."
"Alright!" Jean's eyes lit up—finally, it was her turn to shine. Her powerful telepathy spread outward, freezing more than a dozen Hand ninjas in place.
In an instant, they all stood motionless, as if time itself had stopped.
Relieved, Daredevil finally caught his breath. Even though it was his "old acquaintance" Uchiha Akira walking over, Matt didn't care anymore—things couldn't get much worse anyway.
He had been running all day with Elektra, chased relentlessly by The Hand, and his stamina and energy were nearly at their limits.
"Elektra! Elektra, are you alright?"
With the sharp eyesight of the Uchiha clan, Akira could tell at a glance that Elektra's chest was still faintly rising and falling. She wasn't dead, but she had clearly been gravely injured.
"Who are you? We warn you—those who stand against The Hand will never have a good end. You'd better stay out of this!" the leading ninja threatened coldly.
"Excellent. I like your defiant attitude. Break their limbs first."
The moment Akira spoke, Jean's mind moved—and all of The Hand's ninjas suddenly had their arms and legs twisted one hundred and eighty degrees.
What impressed Akira most was that not a single one of them screamed.
"Very good. Now I'm even more interested. If you can endure physical pain, then… how about the fear of death?"