Chapter 2: The Daredevil and The Murderer in the Rainy Night

After studying the system a bit Cohen had a general understanding of hiw things were, but

as for what constitutes a "Black Iron-level prey"...

The system was very clear: those with guilt, or those who have committed crimes, the more crims one committed the more higher their levels!

A group of laughing guys had just passed by the alley, and he sensed the system's notification: they were all Black Iron-level prey!

Judging by their arm tattoos and the bulges at their waists, these guys were likely gang members.

Yet as the prey walked past, he didn't even dare to raise his head!

The intimidation of American-style Iaido(guns) was just too much!

Given his current state—penniless and with two broken ribs—how could he hunt any prey? He'd be lucky just to avoid being killed himself!

Hiss! Am I going to be the first person with a system to starve to death on the streets after crossing over? Depressed.

It seemed like the sky sensed his bad mood, for the once clear weather suddenly changed.

Raindrops began to fall, splattering on his face.

Depression doubled.

Enduring the pain, he scavenged several discarded wooden boards from a trash bin and built a simple shelter against the wall.

Night fell, the rain pattered down, and thunder roared.

He absentmindedly scraped a large nail on the ground.

This too came from the trash bin, and he was hoping it could evolve into a fearsome weapon.

Shops closed one by one, and the streets were almost deserted.

Apart from the sound of rain and thunder, everything else seemed to vanish.

"Clack, clack, clack."

Suddenly, the sound of high heels tapping on the ground echoed.

The sound was rushed, panicked, and fearful...

"Ah!"

A sharp scream was abruptly cut off, followed by the faint sound of a struggle.

"Get in here!"

A man's voice, harsh and menacing.

Cohen saw a tall man drag a woman into the alley, his hand clamped over her mouth.

The alley was pitch black in the rainy night, with only a faint streetlamp at the entrance offering a bit of light.

Cohen hid beside a trash bin deep in the alley, his body completely enveloped in darkness.

As expected, the system identified the tall man as a Black Iron-level prey.

The man, clearly experienced, pinned the woman against the wall, gripping her throat and threatening, "Scream, and I'll kill you!"

"Hand over all your money!"

A flash of lightning split the sky, briefly illuminating the scene.

In that instant, Cohen saw the woman—a blonde, soaked to the bone. Her clothes clung to her body, outlining her curvaceous figure.

Her delicate face was covered in rain and tears, and she could only sob, unable to speak.

The man's hands started searching her body, and upon finding her wallet, he pulled out the money and tossed it aside.

Cohen gripped a sharpened rod he found near the dumpster tighter, carefully adjusting his stance.

He was waiting for a chance—a chance to kill with a single strike.

In his current condition, he couldn't afford a fight with a tall, burly man.

The man, unsatisfied with the money, began to touch the woman inappropriately with his free hand.

The woman resisted fiercely, but this seemed only to excite him further. Cohen could even hear the man's breathing grow heavier.

A little more... A little more...

Cohen tensed his muscles, his eyes gleaming!

Just as he was about to pounce—

"Stop!"

A shout from above completely threw off his rhythm, almost causing him to fall face-first onto the ground!

A man wearing a horned devil mask and a red leather suit descended from the sky, kicking the tall man aside.

Daredevil! Cohen immediately recognized the superhero in front of him.

The tall man instinctively reached for his waist, but Daredevil swiftly stepped forward and knocked him unconscious with a punch.

A revolver dropped to the ground.

The blonde, realizing she was saved, let out a piercing scream.

Perhaps she'd been too frightened tonight, for she didn't care who had saved her. She clutched her head and dashed out of the alley, running far away.

For a moment, only Cohen and Daredevil were left in the alley.

Daredevil suddenly turned his head towards Cohen.

Though he knew the man before him was blind, and though they were in total darkness, Cohen still discreetly hid the rod behind his back, his expression a bit unnatural.

Did Daredevil notice what he was about to do?

If Daredevil knew he had murderous intentions, who knew what this moral paragon would do?

Just as Daredevil was about to say something, he suddenly paused, then adopted a listening pose.

Moments later, his expression changed. He grabbed two short batons attached by a cord from his waist and threw them upwards, flying off like Spider-Man.

It was only after Cohen reacted that he ran out into the street, watching Daredevil leap between rooftops, his neck craned as he shouted, "Hero, could you spare some change?"

No response.

In the dark night, the vague figure seemed to move even faster?

"Boom!"

Lightning flashed overhead.

Cohen suddenly turned to look back at the alley.

The man's body still lay there, unconscious.

Cohen wiped the rain from his face, spreading his arms wide, and murmured to the sky.

"God! God!

Gods! Gods!

If you exist, if you have mercy, stop me! If not, if you don't care, then from now on, I will be the one whose hands are stained with blood—

I will be The Punisher!"

The rain suddenly grew heavier.

The thunder suddenly grew louder.

In the alley, Cohen held the large rod, hesitating several times over the unconscious man's neck.

He couldn't bring himself to do it for several reasons.

One, a single rod wouldn't kill him immediately. He would struggle, causing a commotion.

Even with the heavy rain washing away the blood, there might still be traces left.

The gun had the same problem. The best option was to find a perfect solution...

As he hesitated, he noticed the rainwater flowing deeper into the alley. He turned and saw a manhole cover.

He struggled to lift the cover and, by the flash of lightning, saw a narrow, deep shaft.

The water flowed rapidly, swirling into an unknown destination.

If he threw the man in headfirst, the man wouldn't be able to turn over, couldn't climb out, and wouldn't be able to breathe—he would definitely die!

God, are you helping me again?

As Cohen dragged the man toward the manhole, he realized just how heavy a body could be.

His chest pain suddenly intensified, and his stomach growled.

He remembered then that he hadn't eaten all day.

"Boom!"

A bolt of lightning struck nearby, his ears buzzing, leaving him dazed.

Was this a dream?

Maybe I didn't die, maybe I didn't cross over, maybe I just fainted and am now lying in a hospital bed?

"Splash," came the sound of a heavy object falling into water.

The splash hit him in the face, snapping him back to reality.

If this were a dream, it wouldn't hurt.

Among the sounds of the pouring rain, a faint cry seemed to come from the bottom of the shaft—or perhaps it didn't.

Before the next flash of lightning, he groped in the darkness to close the manhole cover.

He dismantled the shelter, tossing the boards back into the trash bin.

Erasing all traces of himself.

Then, with the over 300 dollars and revolver he had taken from the man, Cohen left the alley.

After walking a few steps, the system notified: [Mission updated, please check.]

He paused for a moment but didn't look back.

This murder had the help of Daredevil and even the heavens—there was no reason to regret it!

(End of Chapter)