The Underground Room was filled with the heavy smell of blood and sweat.
Blindspot stood there, barely able to remain upright.
His entire body trembled as he leaned on his katana for support. One hand pressed tightly against the deep wound on his waist while his breathing came out in rough, uneven gasps.
Blood soaked through his clothes.
Sweat dripped into the wound, sending waves of burning pain through his body.
That pain was the only thing keeping him awake.
If it stopped, he might collapse immediately.
He was tired.
So unbelievably tired.
Every muscle in his body screamed for rest.
A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that he should just lie down. Close his eyes. Let the darkness take him.
But Blindspot slowly turned his head.
Behind him, a group of ordinary believers from the Church of the Hand huddled together in fear. They trembled, clutching broken furniture and makeshift weapons.
They were looking at him.
Waiting for him.
Blindspot tightened his grip on his sword.
No.
He couldn't fall yet.
Not while they still needed him.
His gaze drifted toward the staircase leading upward.
A bitter smile appeared on his lips.
He wondered how his teacher was doing upstairs.
Was Daredevil still fighting?
Or had the monster already killed him?
Blindspot shook his head weakly.
The truth was simple.
He was weak.
Too weak.
Without the invisibility suit, he was almost useless.
The realization stung more than the wound in his side.
Across the room, the remaining loyal followers of Ten Fingers finished catching their breath.
They raised their katanas again.
Their eyes gleamed with cruel excitement.
Clearly, they had decided to finish Blindspot first before turning their blades on the helpless civilians behind him.
Blindspot knew what was coming.
He could barely stand.
But he stepped forward anyway.
With a hoarse shout pulled from deep within his chest, Blindspot charged.
His injured leg dragged slightly behind him as he limped toward the cultists.
Something about that reckless courage stirred the people behind him.
Perhaps it was desperation.
Perhaps it was hope.
Or perhaps they simply understood that if Blindspot died, they would die next.
One by one, they picked up whatever weapons they could find.
Chairs.
Broken sticks.
Metal rods.
And they rushed forward behind him.
For one brief moment, the underground chamber filled with the fierce courage of people who had nothing left to lose.
Then—
A calm voice sounded behind them.
"What passionate youth."
The cultists froze.
They turned around slowly.
And saw only a flash of silver.
From Blindspot's perspective, a red figure burst into the Underground Room like lightning.
Not Daredevil's dark crimson.
This red was brighter.
Louder.
More theatrical.
The figure crossed the room instantly.
Steel flashed once.
Twice.
Three times.
The twin blades moved so fast they looked like streaks of light.
Then heads began to fall.
One after another.
Before anyone even realized what was happening, every single cult loyalist had been beheaded.
Not one survived.
Deadpool flicked the blood from his swords and smoothly slid them back into their sheaths.
The path to the upper floor was clear.
The terrified believers wasted no time.
They rushed toward the stairs in panic.
Some paused briefly to bow deeply toward Deadpool and Blindspot before running away, but most simply fled.
Blindspot stared at the bodies.
Then he looked at Deadpool.
"You're… Daredevil's ally?"
Deadpool shrugged.
"That depends on the contract terms."
Blindspot frowned.
"You shouldn't have killed them."
"They were deceived by Ten Fingers."
"With your strength, you could have subdued them."
Deadpool blinked slowly.
"Oh boy."
"You know what? I should introduce you to someone."
He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"His name is Frank Castle."
"I promise he'd love this conversation."
Blindspot stubbornly continued.
"You still shouldn't kill people."
"They shouldn't die by your hand."
Deadpool sighed deeply.
"Yes, yes, yes."
"They shouldn't die by my hand."
"Honestly, they probably shouldn't have even been born."
Blindspot opened his mouth to argue again.
Deadpool stepped forward and pinched the back of his neck.
Blindspot's eyes rolled back instantly.
He collapsed unconscious.
Deadpool caught him before he hit the ground.
"Kids these days," he muttered.
"Always trying to lecture adults while bleeding to death."
He quickly examined Blindspot's injuries.
Bad.
But not fatal.
The real problem was exhaustion.
The boy had pushed himself far beyond his limit.
Deadpool grabbed some medical supplies and wrapped the wound tightly to stop the bleeding.
Nearby, Laura West still lay injured but breathing.
Deadpool glanced between the unconscious Blindspot and Laura West.
Then he looked toward the staircase.
His shoulders slumped.
"Great."
He grabbed one in each hand and began dragging them upstairs.
"Am I really becoming a babysitter?"
---
When Deadpool reached the main hall, he immediately saw the problem.
The remains of the Fist lay scattered nearby.
Meanwhile, Elektra and Matt were fighting each other again.
Deadpool stopped and blinked.
He could hear Matt trying desperately to explain something while Elektra repeatedly shouted that she wasn't listening.
Deadpool slapped his forehead.
"Right."
"Of course."
He had almost forgotten.
These two had the amazing ability to turn any battlefield into relationship therapy.
His grip slipped.
Thud.
Laura West hit the ground.
Deadpool quickly bent down.
"Oh. Sorry, sorry."
"Didn't mean to drop you."
He picked her up again and inspected her casually.
"Hmm."
"Front armor looks sturdy."
"Should be fine."
He laid Blindspot and Laura West against the wall.
Then he took a deep breath and shouted.
"Stop fighting, you two!"
It had absolutely no effect.
Matt clearly didn't want to fight, but Elektra attacked relentlessly.
Deadpool pulled out his swords.
Then paused.
Then sighed and put them away again.
Too dangerous.
In a chaotic brawl someone might grab one.
So instead he threw the swords aside and drew his small dagger.
He rubbed his temples.
He truly hated this.
He hated babysitting.
At that moment Elektra thrust her sai toward Matt.
Unfortunately, her aim was… extremely personal.
Matt felt a sudden chill.
He jumped backward in panic.
She was absolutely trying to destroy Mini-Matt.
Clang!
Deadpool's dagger struck from the side and knocked the sai away.
He stepped between them.
"Big sister, that's a bit excessive."
"Maybe it's a little small."
"But we're not at mercy-killing levels yet."
He pointed at Matt.
"Even if he kidnapped your daughter, that's the fault of the big head."
"The little head is innocent."
Matt used the moment to retreat.
Several fresh cuts appeared on his body.
Elektra glared at Deadpool.
"Sixty thousand dollars."
"You don't want it anymore?"
Deadpool groaned.
"I want it."
"But not like this."
He spread his hands.
"How about this?"
"I offer one hundred dollars for both of you to sit down peacefully for ten minutes and explain everything."
Elektra replied instantly.
"Six hundred thousand dollars to cut off his arms and legs."
Deadpool immediately stepped beside Elektra.
Matt stared at him.
"Wade. Stop joking."
Matt then threw his batons aside.
He raised both hands and walked forward.
"If you really want to kill me," he said quietly, "then do it."
Deadpool clasped his hands and tilted his head.
"Oh my God."
"Perfect surrender pose."
"He's really good at it."
Elektra ignored him.
Her sai rose.
"You think I won't?"
She charged forward.
Matt didn't move.
The blade stopped at his throat.
For a long moment, the weapon trembled.
Then Elektra lowered it.
Matt asked softly,
"Tell me about your daughter."
"You never mentioned her."
Deadpool spat.
"Pah."
"Scumbag."
Elektra suddenly collapsed to the floor.
Her icy mask broke.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"My daughter's name is Iona."
"She's eleven years old."
Then she began explaining.
Deadpool raised his hand like a student.
"Excuse me."
He took a sip of cola and swallowed popcorn.
"Is this scumbag six feet tall, about eighty-three kilograms, a Columbia graduate, and blind?"
Silence fell over the room.
Matt slowly turned his head.
"…Why don't you just tell her my Social Security Number too?"
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