The red and black figure moved with lightning speed, his billy clubs dancing in a blur of motion. Every strike landed precisely on vulnerable areas like joints and wrists, resulting in a series of muffled sounds of dislocated bones and suppressed groans of pain, yet not a single blow was fatal.
"This guy actually knows how to pull his punches. He's not the type to beat people to death."
Sakata Gintoki rested his chin on the wall, looking like an old man watching a show.
"Hey, hey, who is this guy? His moves are pretty impressive. What are we going to do if he scares away all our 'investors'?"
Sato Kazuma was more concerned with practical matters; he had already seen two thugs clutching their broken wrists, scrambling and crawling toward the back door.
"Horo horo horo,"
Perona twirled her little parasol elegantly, while several translucent Negative Hollows circled around her, emitting soft "woo-woo" sounds.
"Perfect, this princess also thinks he's a nuisance."
Inside the bar, Matt Murdock's focus was intense.
He could hear the breathing and heartbeats of three people in the alley outside.
One heartbeat was steady with a hint of laziness, another was slightly rapid, seeming very nervous, and the third—very strange, the heartbeat was lighthearted and proud, as if the gang fight before them was just a boring play.
Civilians. Three civilians who had wandered into this place by mistake.
While parrying a machete aimed at his face with his billy club and dodging a sucker punch, he growled toward the alley entrance without turning his head: "It's dangerous here! Leave quickly!"
His voice wasn't loud, but it reached the ears of the three clearly.
"He's telling us to leave," Kazuma whispered.
"I heard him," Gintoki said, picking his nose.
A gang member who had been knocked to the ground noticed the three "spectators" in the corner. Thinking they were reinforcements for the other side, he grabbed an empty wine bottle from the floor and roared with a ferocious expression: "They've still got accomplices! Kill them!"
Several burly men who had been surrounding Matt immediately split off two of their number, grinning viciously as they charged toward the trio.
Matt's heart tightened. He heard the footsteps and the accelerated heartbeats of those two men due to their excitement, and he wanted to turn around to stop them.
But the last few thugs in front of him had gone berserk, their attacks becoming increasingly frantic, pinning him down. He knew this bar was Kingpin's territory; these people were desperate criminals who would never hesitate to kill ordinary people.
"Tsk." Perona made a sound of dissatisfaction.
The thing she hated most was this kind of death-defying look.
"You asked for this."
With a gentle wave of her little parasol, two gray-purple Negative Hollows drifted out slowly, like two weightless puffs of smoke, passing directly through the bodies of the two charging thugs.
The thug in the lead, the vicious grin still on his face, suddenly froze. The next second, he fell to his knees with a "thud," and the machete in his hand clattered to the ground.
"I can't do it anymore—" He clutched his head and wailed, tears streaming down his face.
"Why am I doing this job—no future, no social security, and staying up late every day—I really want to go back to the countryside and raise pigs—"
The accomplice behind him, also passed through by a ghost, dropped his iron rod and sat down on the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling, muttering to himself: "Living is so tiring—I'm just trash—might as well just die—"
Gintoki and Kazuma at the alley entrance were long used to this scene.
But for the others in the bar, this sight was too bizarre.
Just as Matt was preparing to break through the encirclement, he heard the sudden, unprovoked crying of two grown men.
In his "World," those two heartbeats that had originally been full of threat suddenly became weak, depressed, and full of despair.
What happened?
He couldn't "see" the ghosts; he could only feel that something seemed to flash through the air, and then, two living people had a mental breakdown.
"What the hell is this?!"
The remaining few thugs were also frightened by this bizarre scene, forgetting to attack for a moment.
"It's my turn! It's my turn!"
Kazuma seized the opportunity, rubbed his hands together, his eyes flashing with excitement. He darted out, reached out toward a guy still holding a gun, and whispered the name of that god-tier skill in a volume only he could hear.
"Steal!"
The gun-wielding thug felt his hand go empty, and before he could react, the heavy revolver had vanished into thin air, appearing in Kazuma's hand the next second.
"Huh?" The thug looked at his empty hand, full of question marks.
"Cool revolver."
Kazuma weighed the gun in his hand, then locked his gaze onto a gold chain around another guy's neck that looked quite valuable.
"Steal!"
With a flash of golden light, the thick gold chain was in his hands too.
"My necklace!"
"Steal!"
"My wallet!"
"Steal!"
"Damn! My underwear! Fuck, this guy is a pervert! Stealing men's underwear!"
For a moment, cries of surprise about missing items rang out one after another throughout the bar.
Matt's auditory World descended into total chaos. He could clearly hear those objects—pistols, wallets, necklaces, and even a pair of ragged men's underwear.
They were transferring from one person to another in an instant, along a trajectory that completely defied the laws of physics.
He heard the excited heartbeat of the boy named Kazuma, heard the rustling of fabric as he stuffed the loot into his pockets, though the men's underwear was tossed aside.
What kind of ability was this? Telekinesis?
"Hey, hey, at least leave one for Gin-san."
Gintoki yawned and walked in slowly, carrying his wooden sword, Lake Toya.
The last thug still standing, who was also the small leader of this group, had been scared witless by the monsters and demons before him.
He looked at his companions who had suddenly knelt and wailed, looked at the boy who kept stealing things like a magician, and finally saw the silver-haired natural perm carrying a wooden sword.
This one looked the most normal, and also the laziest.
"Go to hell!" He hardened his heart, pulled a dagger from behind his waist, and roared as he charged toward Gintoki.
Gintoki didn't even raise his eyelids.
Just before the dagger was about to strike him, he flicked his wrist.
"Bang!"
A crisp, muffled sound.
The hilt of the wooden sword struck the opponent's wrist precisely, and the dagger flew out of his hand. Immediately after, Gintoki lazily raised a foot and landed a kick squarely in the opponent's lower abdomen.
The small leader didn't even have time to scream; he curled up like a shrimp, slid to the ground like a puddle of mud, foaming at the mouth, and completely lost consciousness.
The whole process was as fast as a gust of wind.
Matt only had time to catch the heartbeat of Gintoki's momentary burst, a pulse like a wild beast, completely contrary to his lazy appearance.
The bar went quiet.
Only a few big men hit by the Negative Hollows remained on the floor, drawing circles and cursing their lives.
Perona walked in like a victorious queen, holding her little parasol, walking with an elegant pigeon-toed gait, while several Negative Hollows danced happily behind her.
Kazuma was busy looting "startup capital" from the unconscious thugs, muttering to himself: "Watch, ring—hmm, this leather jacket also looks quite valuable—"
Gintoki stepped on the back of the small leader he had just knocked out, poked the guy's butt with the tip of Lake Toya, and asked boredly: "Hey, who's in charge here? Come out, we're looking for sponsorship."
Matt Murdock stood in the center of the mess, motionless.
He came here to find Kingpin's ledger, to collect evidence of the biggest cancer in this city. He had prepared for a bitter battle, even prepared to get injured.
But he wasn't prepared to face this.
A gothic lolita who could make tough guys instantly cry and want to go home to raise pigs.
A money-grubbing boy who could steal other people's dentures out of thin air.
And a lazy man who took down the strongest thug in one move with a wooden sword.
These three people—what exactly are they?
His senses told him that all of this was truly happening. But his reason told him that all of this was as absurd as a nightmare.
Kazuma finished looting the bar from top to bottom, patted his stuffed pockets, and said to Gintoki and Perona with satisfaction: "Done! Great haul, this is way faster than moving bricks at a construction site!"
The three completely ignored Matt, who was still standing in the middle of the room, as if he were just an unimportant background prop.
"Let's go, let's go get a late-night snack; Gin-san wants to eat a strawberry milk parfait."
"Horo horo horo, this princess wants one too, the biggest one!"
The three walked away with their arms around each other's shoulders, preparing to leave as if no one else was there.
"Stop."
Matt finally spoke, his voice hoarse and grave. He turned around, his face, with its upper half covered by a mask, facing the direction the three were leaving.
"Who on earth are you?"
[Congratulations to Raid Faction player—Perona, for successfully piquing the curiosity of Matt Murdock, gaining 2000 reputation points.]
[Congratulations to Guardian Faction player—Sato Kazuma, for successfully piquing the curiosity of Matt Murdock, gaining 2000 reputation points.]
[Congratulations to Neutral Faction player—Sakata Gintoki, for successfully piquing the curiosity of Matt Murdock, gaining 2000 reputation points.]