In Hell's Kitchen, the more heavily injured Luke Cage was helped back to his residence by Matt Murdock. After entering and getting Luke Cage to sit down, Matt Murdock's expression changed the instant his palm touched the cabinet. "Something's wrong!" As soon as he spoke, Luke Cage immediately turned his head: "What is it?" "Someone has been in my room." Matt Murdock picked up a photo frame on the table and said, "This frame has always faced the door, but just now I discovered it was facing away."
Luke Cage looked at the photos covering the wall and the pile of frames on the table, looking completely bewildered. Never mind the position of the frame, could you first explain why you have so many photos and frames displayed everywhere? "Then... is it possible you just forgot?" "Impossible. I remember every single arrangement in this room clearly. A mistake like this couldn't happen unless someone had been here." He then put down his cane and walked freely around the room, showing no signs of blindness at all.
Soon, he listed them one by one: "The cup, the milk, the books—their positions are all wrong. Someone definitely came in." "Do you have a roommate?" Luke Cage asked. Matt Murdock shook his head. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck Luke Cage: "Do you think it could be that person?" Hearing this, Matt Murdock paused, his nose beginning to lightly sniff the objects that had been moved. A moment later, he sighed: "It's him." Luke Cage's face twitched; he didn't quite understand how Matt Murdock managed that. Matt Murdock straightened his posture and faced Luke Cage directly.
"Luke, perhaps we can start being honest about some of our own secrets." A long time later, the two had revealed their Hidden Identity secrets to each other, and doubts followed suit. Matt Murdock said bluntly: "The question is simple. You've been living in New York with a Hidden Identity for quite some time, so how did he know about you?" Luke Cage also asked: "Didn't you say you were always very careful to hide your abilities? Then how did he know about you?" Hearing this, Matt Murdock lowered his head slightly. "Perhaps it's because I've recently started becoming active in Hell's Kitchen."
Luke Cage immediately raised an eyebrow. Matt Murdock continued: "Luke, you know that law and order in Hell's Kitchen has always been chaotic. When I was a child, I wanted to become a Police officer, but unfortunately, my eyes cut off that path for me. So, I became a lawyer, wanting to use the law to punish those evildoers and help the kind-hearted, gradually bringing some changes here. But the results proved that I was just being naive." Luke Cage couldn't help but nod as he listened. How long have the Police existed? How long has the law existed? And how long has Hell's Kitchen existed?
If one thinks about it seriously, it's clear that Matt Murdock's idea was indeed very naive. "So, I decided to change the way I fulfill the duties of a 'Police' officer. Recently, I've occasionally gone out masked. Perhaps that's why he sought me out." Luke Cage was somewhat surprised, thought for a moment, and then said: "Matt, you have a lot of courage, and I think those you've helped must really appreciate you." Matt Murdock shook his head: "One person's strength is completely insignificant compared to this area, or even the whole city. I can only do my best to help more people."
Luke Cage nodded slightly. He admired Matt Murdock's ideas and actions, but so far, he didn't have any desire to punish evil and promote good. After all, he hadn't told Matt Murdock yet that his current status was still that of a fugitive. "What about you, Luke? You haven't been exposed, so how did he find you?" "I don't know." The two fell silent. Afterward, Matt Murdock found some medicine for Luke Cage to take, and then they each went to sleep. A knock at the door woke both of them up.
Luke Cage peered through the peephole, his brow furrowing. When he opened the door, his puzzled gaze lingered on the visitor. The man spoke in measured tones: "Sir, pleasure to meet you. Phil Coulson. Might I have a word with you and your associate?"
Across Long Island, Tony Stark barked into his phone: "Save the thanks. Weren't you hunting for super-powered recruits? This batch should fit the bill. I said don't thank me—just wire the money. Goodbye." He tossed the phone aside without waiting for a response, attention snapping back to the holographic armor schematic floating before him.
The design resembled his previous suits—except for the glaring addition of a physical longsword gripped in its gauntlet. Tony tapped his chin, then suddenly brightened. "Who says a blade needs to be metal? What about condensed energy beams?"
JARVIS's voice came dryly: "Sir, are you referencing Star Wars lightsabers?"
"Bingo."
"Those remain fictional technology, sir."
Tony smirked. "So was cold fusion once. So were miniature reactors. Keep the physical blade as backup, but build full modular interfaces for an energy saber." The hologram shimmered into revision as he dove back into work.
At the manor, Hong Fei watched Frank Castle and his ten operatives load up for New York. The scene felt oddly ceremonial—like an emperor dispatching his most trusted general with imperial edicts. An uncharacteristic pang tightened Hong Fei's chest. "Frank. Mission comes second. Just come back in one piece. There'll always be other jobs."
Frank shook off Hong Fei's hand with a grunt. "Christ, since when do you nag?"
Hong Fei trailed after him, chuckling. "Hurry back. The place feels empty without you."
"Piss off." Tires screeched as the convoy peeled away.
Hong Fei lingered until the taillights vanished, then turned toward the nearly completed laboratory complex. Three stories rose above ground, two more beneath—the subterranean levels deliberately isolated from his earlier excavations by a ten-meter buffer zone.
Inside, the main structure stood finished, its final fittings underway. Rows of pristine equipment gleamed under construction lights. Strangers in white lab coats moved through the halls, security badges identical save for their photos. Guards stood post at every entrance—rigidly enforcing access protocols. Everyone except the boss himself.
The renovation clamor faded as Hong Fei stepped through the doors. Dr. Helen Cho's voice cut through the noise: "Mr. Hong! Perfect timing. I've been looking for you—there are proposals we need to discuss. Are you free?"
Hong Fei's smile didn't reach his eyes. Free if it's cheap. If not, let's hear the price tag first. "Absolutely. All the time in the world."
An hour later, Helen Cho bowed all the way, expressing endless gratitude as she escorted him out. The moment the lab doors hissed shut, Hong Fei's grin collapsed. Another five million evaporated. Rubbing his stiff jaw, he vowed never to set foot here voluntarily again.