Getting stronger and stronger starting from Marvel.

Chapter 17 Undercurrents

New York City is brightly lit at night.

In a hospital ward in the city center, a handsome man wearing sunglasses and with bandages on his right hand and left leg is lying on the hospital bed.

The man was none other than Daredevil Matthew, whose arms and legs had been broken by White Night's rifle last night. At this moment, he was holding a charcoal pencil tightly with his intact left hand and waving it around in front of the notebook.

While it may seem incredible that a blind person can draw, Matthew, whose five senses are beyond those of ordinary people, can generate the shape of objects in his mind simply from the echoes of sound, making him even more agile than sighted people in daily life.

With the scratching sound of the charcoal pencil sliding across the paper in front of him, until the last stroke fell, the image of a handsome man who looked about 18 years old, as beautiful as a celestial being, leaped onto the paper.

After finishing his drawing, Matthew put down his charcoal pencil, still utterly bewildered by the scene from the previous night: 'Who exactly is this guy? Why does he know so much about my identity and weaknesses?'

Remembering what Bai Ye had said last night—that if anyone dared to continue probing into his identity, he would reveal it to Kingpin—Matthew felt a chill run down his spine. The feeling that his own life and the lives of his friends were in someone else's hands was truly ominous.

Just as Matthew was hesitating about whether to continue investigating Bai Ye's whereabouts, he heard a noise outside the ward. Judging from the voice, he knew that it was his good friend Amy from his firm who had come to visit him with a flower basket.

With a "click," the door lock was pressed, and Amy strode in, asking with concern, "I heard you got caught up in a gang fight last night and were caught in the crossfire. How badly were you hurt?"

"Fortunately, the doctor said I'm in good physical condition and will recover quickly, but I probably won't be able to work for a month," Matthew said with a smile.

Amy breathed a sigh of relief: "It's good that you're alright. The security situation has been getting worse lately, and we're almost overwhelmed with work. We're just waiting for you to recover so you can come and help us."

As he spoke, he noticed a piece of paper covered up on the bedside table: "Hey, what's that?"

Amy picked it up casually, looked at the sketch on the paper, and her eyes lit up. "Who drew this sketch by your bed? This young man's drawing is so beautiful! Is there a real person in it?"

As she spoke, Amy's expression became somewhat strange. Who on earth would send a portrait to a blind man? This behavior was far too abstract.

"Oh, this was drawn by a friend of mine. As for the person in the drawing, he actually saw a student on the street and was so impressed that he drew it on the spot when he got home," Matthew explained with a smile.

"Don't you recognize her? That's such a pity. I'd love to see her in person. But this must be photoshopped. I've never seen anyone this good-looking before," Amy said with a regretful expression.

"I'll tell my friend that if I see him next time, I'll exchange contact information and introduce him to you if I have the chance," Matthew said, then, as if remembering something, he subtly added, "I overheard the family members in the next bed talking about whether another bank has been robbed recently?"

"That's right, this matter has caused quite a stir. Our firm is discussing it. Last night, a gang robbed the vault of Terry Bank. They had already blown the vault open, but then a super criminal appeared and double-crossed them, driving off with all the stolen goods and their car."

"When the police arrived, they only caught the gang. They all had their ankles pierced and couldn't run away. As for the supervillain, after a whole night of searching, they only found his abandoned car."

"Because of this incident, it was all over the front page of the newspapers this morning, and the police have almost completely lost face."

At this point, Amy suddenly raised a finger and said, "Oh, right, I heard that the police station is going to hold a public briefing tomorrow morning."

"A public briefing?" Matthew asked curiously, also knowing who the guy who lost the cash was.

Amy nodded and explained, "That's right. After all, there hasn't been a bank robbery in New York for a long time, and with so much public discussion, we definitely need to hold a briefing to reassure New Yorkers."

"Is that so? It seems the NYPD is really serious this time." Matthew nodded, and after chatting with Amy for a while, seeing that it was getting late, they agreed to meet again the next morning.

Meanwhile, at the New York Police Commissioner's home, George looked at the negative comments about the police department online, and several strands of his hair turned white.

As an ordinary person in a bustling international metropolis like New York City, I only rose to the position of bureau chief through years of hard work.

But anyone with eyes can see that these police officers are fine when dealing with ordinary criminals, but when facing superhumans, mutants, vampires, and other extraordinary beings, it's already quite an achievement for them to survive.

He had asked his superiors countless times if there were any superhero police officers or something similar that could be sent down from nowhere. Otherwise, when a major incident occurred, it would be too passive for them, the police officers, to be left with nothing but hoping that those super vigilantes could solve the problem.

However, these requests were always brushed off, with the excuse that the military's research project based on the super soldier serum was recently forced to stop because a test subject escaped from the base during the experiment, causing the experiment to be temporarily suspended. The military is currently making every effort to capture the subject, and we can only wait a little longer.

But no matter what, by being cautious and having a clear understanding of their own strengths, they have managed to get through these years, patching things up bit by bit. Compared to other major cities, New York City's annual police fatality rate is only 5%, which is already quite remarkable.

Thinking about the press conference he was to attend the next morning, he rehearsed his speech one last time before going to bed. Feeling powerless, he declined his wife's invitation and fell asleep, exhausted both physically and mentally.

"I should get rid of the money in my hands as soon as possible," Bai Ye thought to himself as he trained in the bedroom.

I'm getting increasingly strapped for cash lately, so I should legalize my funds as soon as possible.

Just as Bai Ye was thinking this, several men with fierce appearances and large muscles sat together in a warehouse.

"The police will hold a press conference at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. There will be a lot of police officers there at that time, which will be the time when the police force is at its weakest."

"Then, we just need to do the opposite, and we can complete the operation fully armed," said a scarred man.

"Brother, which bank should we rob?" one of the men asked.

"Of course it's Lansher Bank. I've done thorough research. This bank has the most abundant cash reserves in all of New York City, but the security isn't very strict," Scarface said.

But at this moment they overlooked an important question: why was the security so lax at this bank with so much money?

(End of this chapter)