He pinches the unmoving jaw to scan it. Pale tongue. Bloodshot eyes. He was infected.

"Nothing like a knife to remove a pest like this, after all."

"Removed one of the biggest criminals in Hell's Kitchen, clearly."

A calm voice, one scarce shocked at the skillful display, but his smirk is audible. His suspicion is confirmed.

"So you're The Daredevil. Pencil pushing, really?

Took you for a wiser man."

He states, scanning the corpse, ~>

Observing for now.

A glimmer in the dark.

A knife. Matthew's own, darting across the room, as the man who threw it slowly turns, to scan the Devil's reaction. He just wants confirmation.

The ash of his pipe spills on a cold hand. A Police Captain sits still on a chair.

No signs of life.

Ra's hasn't spoken yet.~>

Matt Murdock was coming home from work today late at night. Music could be heard all the way outside for him. The smell of tobacco hitting his senses as a man was in his place.

He slowly moved to his stairs and then entered into the door.

[ ~ ]

The right eats it up. Podcasters chatter and argues about "being tough on crime."

Then one of them gets up, and empties half a magazine into another's head.

Dead silence for five seconds on air.

Nothing but pink mist.

And eerie silence at inconvenient truths whispered.

That same day, a family father of four with no felonies, grabbed his shotgun, and after five shots, walked out to the terrace, and smoked a cigarette.

The highest profile, of course. A Sheriff, found in the office with a bulletproof vest, bleeding out after cleaning house with his entire office.~>

It didn't make the nationwide news, far less the Global ones, when six children died in the latest school shooting, this time in Brooklyn.

But some noticed a statistical anomaly.

The kid, the "perpetrator", had no reason to perform the attack. He was popular. He was loved, had no issues at home.~>