Chapter 56: Unlucky Matt
That night, Uchiha Akira and his crew were once again running their usual "Hell's Kitchen dungeon raid." Why call it a dungeon? Because criminals in Hell's Kitchen popped up like weeds—cut down one batch, and another would grow back. It was practically a video game respawn zone.
Tonight, they even ran into the "dungeon guardian" of Hell's Kitchen again—Daredevil.
But this time, Daredevil was surprisingly tactful. Seeing the group start purging the local scum, he made no move to stop them.
The memory of getting his legs broken—twice—still haunted Matt Murdock like a nightmare. Plus, during their last encounter, while their behavior had been rough, they had still technically saved Elektra. And for that, Daredevil felt some begrudging gratitude.
Still, it was a bit much that they beat him up again after healing Elektra.
Every time they showed up, it was like they had a "break Matt's legs" side quest.
"This weirdo in the red bodysuit isn't getting in our way tonight?"
Akira raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm, no. I still don't like his attitude. He needs an attitude adjustment.
Uchiha Kahon—go beat him up a bit. But this time, don't break his legs."
"Yes, Clan Leader!"
Kahon responded enthusiastically and charged toward Daredevil.
Not because he hated the guy—mostly because he was just itching for a fight and Daredevil was a convenient local training dummy.
No matter how skilled Daredevil was, compared to an elite jōnin, he was just another punching bag.
Soon enough, screams echoed through the alley again.
"Why? I didn't even get in your way this time! I even turned a blind eye while you cleaned up the scum in Hell's Kitchen! Why are you still coming after me?!"
Kahon didn't have a good answer.
How was he supposed to know why the clan leader hated this guy?
But hey, Daredevil had picked the wrong side when they first met.
"Daredevil, as the so-called protector of Hell's Kitchen, have you slacked off recently?
Clearly, the crime rate's gone up again. That's a failure on your part as the secret guardian of this place!"
Daredevil lay on the ground, battered, looking up at the familiar face approaching him.
Anger surged for a moment—but then was quickly replaced by a creeping sense of dread.
Yes, Matt Murdock felt like this guy was going to give him PTSD at this rate.
"I do everything I can for Hell's Kitchen—but I'm just one man! I can't save everyone!"
Daredevil shouted in frustration. Deep down, he wanted nothing more than peace for this place—it was his childhood home, after all.
"Can't save everyone? That's because you're not strong enough!
You should be reflecting on your own incompetence!"
"No! I'll never be like you villains—slaughtering innocent civilians at will!"
Matt roared back, rejecting Akira's twisted logic.
"Hit him harder. Clearly, he still doesn't understand where he went wrong."
"When you show mercy to criminals, more innocent people suffer because of it. Even the police have given up on this place.
Do you think your nightly crusades are really saving anyone?"
Akira leaned in.
"Right, Matt Murdock, Esquire?"
The moment Daredevil heard his real name, everything went blank—then ice-cold sweat broke out on his back.
They knew his identity.
Matt didn't understand—he always wore his mask. How had they figured it out?
"Who the hell are you?! Are you following me?!"
"You're overthinking it. I just happen to know who you are.
Keep at it, Daredevil."
Akira motioned for Kahon to let him go.
Under Daredevil's conflicted and anxious gaze, the group disappeared into the night.
"Clan Leader, were you doing that just to mess with Daredevil?"
Kahon asked, curious.
"Turns out that tight-suit blind pervert is actually a lawyer!?"
By now, the Uchiha had adapted surprisingly well to life in the Marvel world.
They knew being a lawyer in America meant big money.
It baffled them that someone with a lucrative law career would sneak out at night to play vigilante.
"Nah. I just hold a grudge from the first time we met—he got in our way. So I beat him up for it. Any excuse works."
Akira said it with a straight face.
But somehow, the explanation sounded completely petty.
So… it was just a personal vendetta from the very beginning.
"And that whole speech about justice and crime rates…?"
"Total BS. Just something to make him think.
I can't exactly say 'I don't like you, so I'm gonna beat you up,' right? So I gave him some philosophical mumbo jumbo to chew on."
"What I really wanted him to understand is this:
Only power matters.
He can't save Hell's Kitchen because he's not strong enough.
And he can't stop us because we're stronger. That's it."
Though Akira suspected Matt would never accept that logic.
Knowing him, he'd probably just blame Akira even more.
Later that night, Stick was patching up a battered and bruised Matt.
"What happened tonight? Did you run into Kingpin's men again?"
"No. I ran into them again. That ninja group. I didn't even try to stop them this time… but they still beat me down."
"You couldn't fight back?"
"Not at all. They've gotten even stronger. And…"
Matt paused, disinfecting his wounds.
"…they know who I am. Their leader called me 'Matt Murdock'—right to my face."
"What if my identity gets out…?"
"You don't need to worry about that," Stick replied calmly.
"They're not going to out you."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Can you remember the strongest ant in a colony?"
"…No."
"Exactly.
They've known who you were all along. They just don't care.
You're nothing to them."
Stick didn't sugarcoat it.
"Matt, remember when you asked me who cut off that Hand member's finger?"
Matt's eyes narrowed.
"It was those ninjas. That old witch from the Hand—she's already dead.
They killed her."
"You know the Hand and Kingpin are the biggest darkness in New York."
Matt was left speechless as the revelations stacked up.
"Then… why did Elektra go all the way to Japan…?"
Stick ran his hand slowly over his bamboo staff, his voice low.
"Her hatred for the Hand runs deeper than anything.
Sure, the Hand in New York lost a few fingers—but the ones in Japan are still intact."
"Elektra's infiltrated the Hand in Japan.
She's probably just waiting for the right time to strike."