John and the Devil

Another dark knight.

Another bloody day in Hell's Kitchen.

People were dying, criminals prowled the streets, and a vigilante moved silently in the shadows. For John, it was just another day in this grim city—a place where justice often walked hand in hand with violence.

John moved through a narrow alley, his footsteps echoing faintly against the walls. He paused suddenly, his sharp instincts taking over. Turning on his heel, he called out, his voice calm but commanding:

"Come out. I know you're there."

There was a pause—heavy, expectant. Then, from the shadows, a figure emerged. Clad in a crimson suit with horns subtly adorning his cowl, Daredevil stepped into the faint light of a streetlamp.

"How did you find me?" Matt asked, his tone measured, curious. He should not be found easily.

John didn't answer immediately. For two days, he'd felt someone watching him, tracking his movements. Whoever it was didn't seem intent on attacking, but John wasn't the type to wait for surprises. Now, he had decided to take the initiative.

As John's eyes swept over Daredevil, taking in the iconic suit and devilish horns, a flicker of excitement stirred within him. It wasn't fear or apprehension—it was admiration. Daredevil was one of his favorites, after all.

And now, here he was. Standing face to face with a legend.

Yet the excitement didn't linger for long. Reality intruded on his thoughts. This wasn't just an encounter with a hero;but a reminder of the world he live in now,' Marvel '. But which version? Was it the relatively peaceful MCU or a grittier, less forgiving universe? John didn't know. What he did know was that his first month here had been a nightmare. Torture, harassment—they had stripped him of his innocence, reshaping him from a common man into something harder, something vengeful.

His voice broke the silence. "Why did you find me?" he asked directly, wasting no time.

"You know me," Daredevil replied. It was more an assertion than a question.

Matt Murdock didn't need super senses to uncover truths. He was a lawyer, after all, and an excellent judge of character. The subtle nuances in John's words were enough to piece things together.

"Many do," John said simply, brushing the comment aside as he started walking toward his next target.

"Many don't," Daredevil replied, falling into step beside him. His voice was low, contemplative.

Many still believed Daredevil was a myth—a story whispered in back alleys. The police avoided acknowledging his existence, dismissing him as a rumor. But the criminals knew better. To them, the devil of Hell's Kitchen was as real as the blood they spilled—and far more terrifying.

Of course, Daredevil never sought recognition. He never needed it. Everything he did was for change—the kind of change he wanted to see in the world.

"You still haven't answered my question," John said abruptly, breaking Daredevil's train of thought. "Why did you come to me?"

Matt's gaze lingered on John's broad shoulders as he walked ahead. "Were you in the military?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

"No," John replied curtly. Though he could see why Matt thought that—he is in Jason form, building a physique like his wasn't easy.

His attention shifted as he spotted his next target at the entrance of an alley. Without hesitation, he moved toward them, his steps deliberate and unyielding.

Daredevil watched from a distance, his figure fading into the shadows once again.

In the alley, a group of gang members spotted John. The man in the red jacket and mask stood alone, but his presence was anything but reassuring.

The gang members exchanged uneasy glances. They had heard whispers of a new vigilante calling himself Red Hood—rumors spread by others and even their boss.

The gang reacted instantly, one of them pulling a weapon to retaliate. But John moved faster than their eyes could follow, closing the distance in a blink.

A sharp punch sent the first man crumpling to the ground.

Seeing this, another gang member turned to flee, panic etched across his face. Before he could take more than a few steps, John raised the gun he had taken from the first man and fired. Precise. Lethal.

Headshots. All of them.

In seconds, the alley fell silent, the soft echo of gunfire dissipating into the cold night air.

"Why did you kill them?" Daredevil's voice broke the stillness as he stepped from the shadows once again.

John didn't react outwardly, though he'd sensed the vigilante's presence before he spoke. He didn't need super senses to know Daredevil was still tracking him—his own instincts were sharper than most.

"They raped a girl last week," John said, his tone calm but unyielding.

He wasn't a psychopath—not yet, at least. He was still far from crossing that line. John didn't strike blindly or out of impulse. He gathered the truth, verified their guilt, and acted only when he was certain.

"Are you trying to punish them? Avenge her?" Daredevil asked, his voice calm but probing. Matt didn't believe John was the girl's relative; if he were, the scene would likely have been far more brutal.

"Daredevil, did you come here to judge why I kill people?" John shot back, his tone sharp and dismissive. He wasn't looking for a debate, let alone approval. What others thought of his actions didn't concern him.

Though Daredevil didn't respond immediately, the question stayed with him. He wasn't here to pass judgment, but he couldn't help his curiosity. What kind of person did it take to justify taking lives like John did? What pushed someone to cross that line?

Matt himself followed a strict code of no killing, one he had held to even in his most desperate fights. He remembered his clashes with the Punisher—bitter confrontations where their ideologies collided. Frank Castle had no hesitation in taking lives, while Matt had always believed in redemption. They'd fought countless times because of that difference, but over time, Matt had come to accept that not everyone would or could live by his rules.

He didn't prevent others from making their own decisions anymore. He didn't preach his code.

For Matt, every life had value—even those who had fallen into the deepest darkness. Yet, deep down, he also understood that some lives were beyond saving. He simply wasn't ready to decide who those people were. But John clearly was.