A strange rumor had been quietly spreading through New York's legal community.
No one knew exactly when it started.
No one knew who started it.
But everyone had heard it.
More than thirty different people, all strangers to one another, had been visiting law firms across New York. From large firms in Midtown to small offices hidden in narrow streets, the same question was being asked again and again.
Was there a lawyer brave enough to sue Kingpin?
The answer was always the same.
No.
At a modest law office, Holden Bradley leaned back in his chair and studied the man sitting across from him.
Holden's head was mostly bald, except for a carefully styled strip of hair at the front. It was combed back neatly, held in place with gel, clearly meant to hide the truth. Anyone who looked closely could tell he was only delaying the inevitable.
He smiled politely, folding his hands on the desk.
"Recently," Holden said casually, "there's been a rumor going around the legal world. A group of people—probably more than thirty—have been asking every law firm in half of New York the same question."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"They're looking for someone willing to sue Kingpin."
Holden paused, then chuckled softly.
"I'm guessing you're one of them, aren't you?"
The man in front of him nodded.
He looked strange.
He wore a purple suit and a green shirt. A green wig sat awkwardly on his head. His back was slightly hunched, his steps unsteady, and his face looked pale and sickly.
But his smile was sharp.
"Do you have anyone you'd recommend?" the man asked.
Holden raised an eyebrow.
This was not the first time he had seen someone like this. In fact, over the past few days, he had seen many people—different faces, different voices, different clothing—but all asking the same thing.
What Holden didn't know was that all of them were the same person.
Batman was not foolish enough to walk into law firms as Peter Parker.
He had prepared more than thirty disguises.
Different clothes.
Different wigs.
Different accents.
Different habits.
Different postures.
Since he could not acquire the materials needed to recreate the ultra-thin bionic masks he once used in Gotham, he relied on strict muscle control and colored contact lenses to alter his appearance.
To the legal world, it looked like a group of people united by hatred for Kingpin.
In reality, it was one man pushing forward alone.
Holden sighed and tapped the desk lightly.
"If you had come a day earlier," he said, "I would've told you no, just like everyone else."
Batman's eyes flickered.
"But," Holden continued, smiling again, "there is one firm. A small one. They've been open for a while and haven't had a single real case."
He leaned forward.
"They're interested."
Holden reached into a drawer and pulled out a small slip of paper, sliding it across the desk.
On it were two lines of text.
Nelson and Murdock Law Firm
A detailed address in Hell's Kitchen
Batman took the paper.
With exaggerated elegance, he stepped back and performed a dramatic knight's bow.
"Thank you," he said.
Then he turned and hurried out, his steps awkward and uneven.
Holden watched him go, shaking his head.
"If life weren't so hard," he muttered, "no one would ever take on a case against Kingpin."
He stared at the door.
"That man controls all of Hell's Kitchen. The Gang Emperor of New York's underworld."
---
Meanwhile, in a small and nearly empty office in Hell's Kitchen, two men were having a very different conversation.
Foggy Nelson paced back and forth, waving his arms wildly.
"Are you insane?" he shouted. "Do you have any idea what you just agreed to?"
Sitting calmly at his desk, Matt Murdock lifted a cup of tea to his lips.
"Relax," Matt said. "You're going to wear a hole in the floor."
Foggy stopped pacing and pointed at him.
"This is Hell's Kitchen! Do you know what the name 'Kingpin' means around here?"
He began listing things on his fingers.
"Blood. Violence. Gangs. Guns. Fire."
His voice cracked slightly.
"Which part of that sounds survivable to you?"
Matt placed the cup down carefully. Though blind, his movements were precise and unhurried. He reached for another tea bag and dropped it perfectly into the cup.
"As long as the person accusing Kingpin has enough criminal evidence," Matt said calmly, "the law will stand on our side."
Foggy stared at him in disbelief.
"You really believe that?"
Matt nodded.
Foggy slumped into a chair.
After an entire morning of trying—and failing—to talk sense into his partner, Foggy finally gave up. Instead, he made a silent decision.
Tonight, he would get Matt completely drunk.
If the firm had to close, so be it.
That was better than being dragged out of their beds one night and turned into a warning for others.
---
In a deserted alley not far away, Batman removed his disguise.
The green wig came off first.
Then the purple suit.
Then the shirt.
A small flame reduced everything to ashes.
He wiped the pale makeup from his face with prepared tissues, his expression calm and focused.
Peter Parker was back.
He moved quickly, heading for the abandoned shipyard. Minutes later, he emerged in a black-and-gray Batsuit, leaping across rooftops and between skyscrapers.
In no time at all, he reached a twenty-story office building.
Silver Sable Security.
Batman had not forgotten something important.
To both Black Cat and Silver Sable, he was not Peter Parker.
He was Batman.
And Batman could not personally step into court or collect evidence openly.
If he wanted Kingpin forced to withdraw his investment from Osborn Group, he needed someone else.
Someone with strength.
Someone with credibility.
Someone who could survive.
Among the people he knew, there were only two connected to both Kingpin and Osborn.
Black Cat.
And Silver Sable.
Black Cat was not an option.
She needed to stay hidden within Kingpin's organization, just in case the plan failed.
That left only one choice.
Once again, Batman entered through Silver Sable's office window.
"…Could you knock next time?"
Silver Sable had been relaxing in her chair, legs propped on her desk, quietly humming. Batman's sudden appearance startled her into an instant combat stance.
When she saw who it was, she relaxed and sighed.
"You really like windows," she said dryly.
Batman said nothing.
Silver Sable shrugged and stared at him.
After several seconds of awkward silence, she spoke first.
"You already found a lawyer last time. So why are you here now?"
Previously, Batman had given her information about the military force backing Osborn Group. After investigating, she confirmed it was true.
That had earned him a measure of trust.
"I want you to help me," Batman said.
Silver Sable raised an eyebrow.
"How?"
"I want you to accuse Kingpin in court."
Silence filled the room.
Silver Sable's first thought came out immediately.
"Why?"
She knew who Kingpin was. Everyone in New York did.
But that didn't mean she was willing to die over it.
She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.
"You don't think just because I hate human experiments that I'm some kind of self-sacrificing hero, do you?"
She kicked the desk lightly with her boot.
Bang.
"My company doesn't offer suicide missions."
Batman didn't react.
His voice was low, steady.
"I have reasons you can't refuse."
Silver Sable smirked.
"Oh?"
"And more than one."
Her smile slowly faded.
The room grew quiet.
And for the first time, Silver Sable realized—
This man had already planned everything.
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