I'm waving my magic wand in Marvel

The silver car stopped next to the scrapped car.

Three machine gunners came down from above and started shooting at the car.

When the bullets missed and police sirens sounded, the men restarted their cars and left.

After they left, on a road, someone was holding on to a shelf and vomiting.

"how do you feel?"

"It felt like someone was stuffing it into a pipe and squeezing it from the inside and being sucked out like a toilet."

"With your current descriptive skills, I suggest you go to a literature university." John gave him a thumbs up.

Ferdinand was in no mood to joke, and he vomited until his intestines came out.

John watched the silver car drive away, "Looks like someone in Hell's Kitchen can't sit still."

The guy who attacked his father finally warned him again.

But this time it was not the Ten Rings Gang who took action, it seemed that the Ten Rings Gang was beginning to have too much to take care of themselves.

"vomit--"

John glanced at the guy who was still vomiting.

Isn't it just apparation?

Young Muggles are very strange, so if you come here a few times, you will get used to it.

"Boss, how did I get here?"

Ferdinand finished vomiting, his eyes blurred.

I don’t remember how I got out at all.

"Oh, a small trick." John took out a green banknote from his pocket and stuffed it into Ferdinand's pocket. He raised his hand and a yellow taxi stopped in front of him. "Your work is over for today."

Throwing Ferdinand into the car, the taxi took him away with a kick of the accelerator.

John stood there for a moment and pulled out his wand with his left hand.

"It's time to see who is behind this."

There was an explosion, and the police officers who came over quickly looked around, but saw no one.

...

"mission completed."

In the silver car, the development of this incident was being reported.

The man sitting in the passenger seat said into his mobile phone: "Yes, there are no survivors."

"not even one."

The car stopped under the viaduct.

The man turned off his cell phone and glanced sideways at the killer in the back seat of the car.

"Your mission is accomplished."

The two of them were still in a state of excitement.

The man in the passenger seat raised his pistol.

The pistol equipped with a silencer made two noises.

The driver looked at the man in horror, "I, I won't talk nonsense."

"Sorry, there are no survivors."

The man repeated what he just said.

Pull the trigger.

Blood splattered on the glass.

The man got out of the car calmly, took out a can of gasoline from the car, and poured it on the car.

He took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, then lit it with a match.

He took a long puff of nicotine and popped out the match that was about to burn his fingers.

The match drew a curve in the air and landed in the car accurately.

The fire spread quickly and burned all three bodies.

The breeze blew across the man's face, blowing up a few strands of brown hair.

With melancholy eyes, he watched the car burn away quietly from a distance away from the burning car.

Instead of throwing away the bottomed cigarette butt, he pinched it out with his fingers and crushed it into pieces, put it in his pocket and turned around to leave.

Hike back to Hell’s Kitchen.

The man sighs.

"Young lives disappeared like this."

He put his hands in his pockets, like a ghost with no home in this night's Hell's Kitchen.

...

Located in a mansion in Hell's Kitchen.

The tall man had a seemingly bloated body. He was wearing a white suit and slowly put down his mobile phone.

The man with glasses behind him did not speak. He knew this person best and understood the excitement in his heart at this moment.

"Do we want to give that money?"

the bespectacled man asked.

The tall man looked back at him and said, "We keep our promises."

"But this is also the last time."

The man with glasses stopped talking and walked out of the room.

Looking down at Hell's Kitchen, the man has huge ambitions in his eyes.

He was born here, grew up here, and committed his first crime here.

From an unknown person, he came to this position step by step.

The ambition he has is far more than that.

There are more, bigger ones.

He needs to go further.

He needs more energy to help himself.

"Wick."

He knew that the death of the Wick family's son would make that man unable to sit still.

This is a good opportunity to put yourself in that person's place.

Let your ambition be so big that it can cover the entire New York, even the entire country, and the world's opportunities.

On the window, half of the man's face was hidden in shadow.

...

Matt is waving his guide stick.

His stick skills were learned from Stick Sou, they are sharp and terrifying, and full of murderous intent.

This is a set of stick techniques to kill people, but Matt has his own principle of not killing.

As a lawyer, he believes in the law more than anyone else.

As a devout believer, his principle of not killing is more for salvation.

The Murdoch family has a demon hidden deep in their hearts, and killing is the key to unlocking the prison door.

Matt wasn't going to let himself become a monster.

He stopped waving the guide stick, sweat streaking his cheeks.

The guide sticks in his hands touched and twisted together, and a mediocre guide stick was assembled.

Wiping the sweat with a towel, he had finished warming up.

Pick up the hood that hides your identity.

It's time for Justice Lawyer Matt to go to bed and Daredevil to wake up again.

Matt stood on the roof, quietly listening to the din from Hell's Kitchen.

Hidden screams were heard.

He turned around and headed in that direction.

He can't drive, but he has the ability to run and jump freely on rooftops.

almost.

He is almost there.

Stop crime!

In his mind, Matt jumped down from the stairs and shouted: "Stop!"

The other party really stopped.

And he extended an invitation warmly, “Come out for a walk?”

The familiar voice startled Matt.

"Superheroes spend most of their time at night." John let go of the guy who had been beaten into a state of disgrace, and walked over while wiping the blood on his fists, "Aren't you guys going to be deprived of sleep?"

"Mr. Wick?" Matt smelled the smell of blood and said in a solemn voice, "I hope you can explain it."

"It's nothing. When I was riding home today, this guy bombed my car with an RPG." John shrugged, "I'm questioning who ordered him to do it."

"Were you assassinated?"

"Not the first time."

John's accustomed look made Matt not know what to say.

I thought I was stopping a crime, but I didn't expect that the other party was beating up criminals.

"I can help," Matt said. "I can make sure he's lying."

"No need," John threw the handkerchief down casually, "I already know the answer."

"Don't forget, I can do magic."

John shook his head and said, "This guy is a retired special forces soldier."

"His boss gave him a large sum of money, but there was a condition."

"There are no survivors."

John looked at the man lying in a pool of blood, "Fisk, do you know him?"

"Fisk?"

Matt frowned and thought, "I seem to have heard something."

"Okay, it seems an investigation is needed, but this guy has a gun, don't worry, he's going to commit suicide by swallowing it."

The man lying in a pool of blood took out a gun from his waist. Matt was about to take action, but John was indifferent.

Immediately afterwards, gunshots rang out.

The bullet exited the back of the man's head.

John looked calm, Matt was complicated.

"He is a very good father." John lamented, "It's a pity that he is not a good person."

"You can stop him." Matt looked at John, "Why?"

"Why should I save someone who wants to kill me?"

John looked surprised, "You don't think I would repay kindness with kindness, do you?"

Matt was silent.

"Now that we have the answer, the game can continue." John stretched and moved the wand in his hand, "By the way, I think you might grab the bad guy by the collar and beat him up later. So let me tell you in advance.”

"The FBI will contact you, most likely about my car explosion."

"Just say I happen to be out of the car."

Waving goodbye, John walked out of the alley.

Matt was left to wait for a while, and then left.

The assassination was in the news.

Early the next morning, the morning news reported about the explosion.

John looked at his right hand, which was covered with a thin layer of silver.

"The fusion of two pieces of Uru metal makes the magic more fluid."

John raised his finger, and the mobile phone flew over.

It showed a call from Natasha.

After the call was connected, Natasha's voice was heard.

"It just so happens that I need you to issue a death notice for me."

Natasha heard John's voice and breathed a sigh of relief.

"That explosion really couldn't kill you."

"It's still okay," John said with a smile, "Maybe a little bit worse."

"What did you get?" Natasha asked, ignoring his joke, "You won't get hit like this for no reason."

"You are very smart, Miss Romanoff."

The silver on John's right hand faded, forming a silver ring on his finger. He said casually: "If you can use SHIELD to check Wilson Fisk for me, I will give you a raise."

"Wilson Fisk?" Natasha asked seriously, "He was the mastermind of the assassination?"

"If that retired PTSD veteran could lie to his heart, it probably wouldn't be him."

"You know him?" John asked.

Natasha glanced at Barton, who was standing not far away, and denied: "I don't know him, but in the FBI files, there is an existence codenamed Kingpin. I once suspected that it was this person."

"Jin Bin is a person under the hotel system. If it is him, it would be reasonable."

The ones who benefit the most from the disappearance of the underground president are those forces under the hotel system.

Kingpin was one of the largest underground forces in New York and a member of the High Table.

He is ambitious and controls many forces.

It is not impossible for him to take over the Underground Alliance after Watson Wake leaves.

John touched his chin as he listened to Natasha's analysis.

"You don't appear to be at work today, Miss Romanoff."

Natasha smiled and said: "I am your assistant, not from the company, right?"

"Right."

John nodded and hung up the phone.

A smile appeared on Natasha's lips unconsciously at John's reaction.

Barton, who was far away, saw this and said, "Boyfriend?"

"No, it's not." Natasha rolled her eyes, "A guy who does whatever he wants, even more willful than Tony Stark."

Barton looked sympathetic, "The director often entrusts you with this kind of task."

When Fury went out and heard someone saying bad things about him, his dark face seemed to get darker.

...