Superhero Damage Control [Comprehensive]

Lucy took the final analysis results that Jarvis gave him, and there were only a few thin pages left in the thousands of documents, which had reduced Lucy's work too much.

"Safe house, the witness we're looking for should have a safe house to hide in, we can't let Fisk's people find him first. Fortunately, Fisk doesn't know where the witness is like us, and we stand on the same line At the starting line." Lucy breathed a sigh of relief, flipping through the materials, "Maybe we are a little faster than them, but we don't have thousands of pages of materials to read."

"We don't have hundreds of black policemen to help us search." Matthew interrupted Lucy's smugness, he was a little anxious, "We need to find the location of the safe house as soon as possible, if you can't find it, I can only beat you Fisk himself came to force him to speak out."

Lucy and Fudge looked up from the file in surprise, while Matthew just had a smile on his lips, showing that it was just a joke.

"Matt, how can you still make such a joke at this time?"

"You scare me."

"We'll hurry up."

"You can't beat Fisk, believe me. Do you think his body is full of fat? That's muscle."

Lucy and Fudge were talking to each other, and Lucy suddenly tapped on the paper: "Wait, I found something wrong. . . . Page 28, Silver Brant Did you find it on the night of the real estate sale?"

Matthew re-checked the numbers with hearing aids on: "We've seen it, and the profits are right."

Lucy picked up the two reports of "real estate sales" and faced the light: "We should not look at the profit, but at the same profit, look at the changes in its internal structure. Here is the record, on August 8, the law firm's total 21 New York State properties registered, yet on August 187nd... Fudge, you see the lengths of the two forms are not the same."

Fudge looked over carefully, and indeed the second form was missing one piece compared to the first.

"But the profit is the same," Lucy said. "That means a house disappears out of thin air."

"Maybe it's a normal trading and registration error?"

"So I have circumstantial evidence." Lucy pointed to the time, and the list of dead police officers borrowed by Holmes from Superintendent Thomas. Detective Hoffman was on it. The time of sacrifice was not far from the time of property registration.

"Where is that house?" Matthew stamped the information.

"Atlanta, 384."

Matthew's figure disappeared outside the door.

Hoffman turned around in the room, the soles of his leather shoes were almost worn out. He held his mobile phone and asked Osli's subordinates: "Why hasn't Osli sent a text message? He was late for nearly three hours."

These guards are here to protect Hoffman's safety, and at the same time watch over him to prevent him from escaping: "There are still 7 minutes. If the boss does not send a text message, we will transfer."

Hoffman nodded, and sat on the chair. Years of dealing with the underworld had given him a natural intuition. He felt that something was wrong today, and in the eyes of those Osli's men, he was a little nervous. .

Hoffman nearly jumped when the doorbell rang.

"Who's outside?" One of the thugs drew a gun from his belt and walked towards the door. The voice of the people outside was muffled, so he had to get closer.

"Big Eater Pizza, you ordered takeaway." The voice outside became clearer.

The thug frowned and looked at the others: "Which one of you ordered takeaway?"

The alarm bells in Hoffman's head began to scream, and he yelled, "Get out of that door!" and jumped behind the couch.Before the thugs had time to react, a volley of bullets pierced the gate and shot in from the outside. Five or six guards guarding Hoffman in the room fell before they even had time to draw their guns.

A group of black policemen broke into the door and quickly poured bullets at all living things in the house.

Hoffman curled up on the ground with his head in his arms. The gunshots stopped and the death knell sounded.

The sofa in front of him made a harsh friction sound, moved away from his eyes, and the black muzzle of the gun was pressed against his head.

Hoffman was pointed at the head by his former colleagues. He recognized the man. They drank and ate together, took bribes in drug dens, and sat on the corpses of innocent people and counted green dollar bills.

But now, he was going to die, and that person didn't look sad at all, but excited.

Hoffman closed his eyes.

The gunshots sounded, the second, and the third, and he touched his head. There was no blood, no hole, and the unexpected head blossomed. He opened his eyes, and there was a white mist in front of him.

Lucy stood in front of the screen. Together with Urik, Pepo assigned him a team of well-secret stunt Stark bodyguards. These bodyguards were all from the army and could use many Stark military products proficiently. They canceled the military production line, but Stark just stopped selling it and still has the right to produce it.

One of the bodyguards controlled a micro-drone and threw a smoke bomb the size of a bullet into the room. The smoke bomb exploded, and the smoke quickly filled the whole room, and the particles in it even immediately formed a scene on the screen. The interior model of the house clearly outlines the location of each black policeman.

"Daredevil, the one on the first floor is for you. Guys, let's take down those two on the second floor."

Two small drones flew up, accurately found the two black policemen who were coughing in the smoke, and then fired electric shots at them, releasing a large amount of electric current, stunning them on the ground.

Old Urik choked on his coffee: "Daredevil?"

Lucy glanced at him: "My code name for the vigilante, don't tell me you keep calling him 'Hi'."

Urik twitched his lips: "I call him Xiao Hong, and his uniform is dark red."

This time it was Lucy's turn to choke.

"Daredevil," said Lucy with that hard-to-digest expression, "Daredevil sounds better."

Hoffman saw a black policeman rushing out of the smoke, screaming as if he had been seriously frightened. Before he could escape from the room, a hand protruding from the smoke, Hoffman heard the sound of bones breaking. He sat on the ground and dared not move. The sound of fighting in the smoke faded away. A devil in a dark red uniform came out of the smoke. Hoffman looked at him in fear and shrank into a corner.

"I'll give you two choices." Daredevil's voice was low and hoarse, "Teach against Fisk, or I'll leave you to Fisk's killers."

"It's useless. I will be killed if I can't reach the police station. This is Fisk's world. Do you think that only Hell's Kitchen is in the palm of Fisk? The whole New York state is! Police, judges, lawyers, according to I know of another congressman who is from Fisk."

Everyone in the back, who had been on the phone all the time, heard this sentence. Angry expressions appeared on their faces, and they began to whisper.

"Has the testimony just been taped?" Lucy asked one of the Stark bodyguards.

The bodyguard replied: "Yes, everything is under control."

Lucy heard the voice of Daredevil continuing to talk to Hoffman: "Go to Captain Thomas Grayson, and your case will be turned over to the FBI. I will watch you walk into the police station. If you want to escape, Or if you want to ask for help, I will let you know the consequences."

Daredevil punches Hoffman, his face blooming.

"Oh--"

The people in the entire room at the back showed pained expressions as if they were watching a boxing match.

Seeing Hoffman staggering towards the door, the stone hanging in Lucy's heart finally let go.

Lucy glanced at Ulik. The old reporter seemed to be about to cry. The long-term high tension and Karen's death made him feel like he was going to collapse every day. Lucy patted him on the shoulder and signaled The others left: "Urik, find Miss Lane to book tomorrow's front page."

She left Urik in the room, closing the door behind the old reporter before he could burst into tears.

Fisk got off the car outside the gallery. His men failed. Hoffman had already gone to the police station, and the case was handed over to the FBI. Maybe he had a certain amount of influence, but it wasn't far enough.

Once again, he reflected on his mistakes. He shouldn't have washed himself up and ran for mayor. He was able to do well in his own dark empire, but it was difficult to turn to the bright side.

But a person in the dark always longs for a little light in his heart, even though he knows it is difficult, but like an addict craving for drugs, he can't help himself to get closer.

West called: "Your mother is safe, she has been safely transferred, no one will hurt her. We did not find the killer, Osli probably just wanted to intimidate you."

Fisk felt relieved, he stood on the side of the street and looked in through the glass.In the gallery, his girlfriend Vanessa is introducing the paintings to the guests. Under the warm yellow light, she looks so beautiful, like a butterfly, gently landed on Fisk's heart, silently, but let People throbbed.

Fisk has the diamond ring ready, he's ready, he wants to say to Vanessa, "I'm not good enough, but you can make me better. If you love me, come with me, we'll be back, At that time, this city is my gift to you."

Vanessa saw Fisk, the frightening big man waiting for her outside the glass window, she put on her hat, wrapped her coat and went out, and ran to her boyfriend.

Fisk smiled.

A cloud of blood rose from Vanessa's hat and splashed onto Fisk's face.

Fisk froze in place.

Vanessa's smile froze on her face, and she slowly fell towards Fisk.

Fisk caught his girlfriend's body in disbelief, his hands that killed countless people stroked Vanessa's face, the heat faded from Vanessa's body, Fisk yelled something, he couldn't hear it himself Clearly, he hugged his girlfriend's body and knelt outside the gallery.

A bit of coolness fell on the tip of his nose. He looked at the sky, and white snowflakes slowly fell, covering Vanessa's once vibrant body, holy and beautiful.

It's finally snowing in New York, covering all the evils under the snow.

A few hundred meters away, the blond assassin sat straddling the window, holding a sniper rifle firmly in his hand. He unscrewed the various parts of the sniper rifle calmly, put them in his backpack, pressed the earphones, Bo's voice notified the person on the other end: "Mission completed."

"Come back." The other party ordered.

The blond assassin obeyed, took a long legged step, went back to the house, broke the earphones, threw them into the trash can, left the building, stepped on a Harley motorcycle, and sped away in the wind and snow.

Mrs. Gao pressed her cane and looked at the man overlooking the entire New York City in the dark. The man was neither old nor young. What was young was his face, and what was old was his eyes. He looked only in his 30s, or even older. Young, but Mrs. Gao's keen senses made her seem to see the blood mist permeating the man's body, sticking around the man's surroundings, it was something that settled down after one massacre after another. .

The man said to her: "Fisk shouldn't like that woman, she made him soft, hesitant, moody, we can't accept such a person as one of us."

Mrs. Gao nodded: "Master Mandarin once asked me to secretly monitor Fisk, and we must not let him go astray. It seems that he has let us down."

The man crumpled up the rubber earpiece he had just spoken to the killer with, dropped it into the vodka, and walked out into the darkness.

"Prison will make Fisk what we want him to be."