Capítulo 37: Chapter 037: This World Is Too Crazy
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"Forget about me, kill him!"
Elektra's voice rang out as she grabbed Stick, disregarding her own life. She shouted sternly at him.
"No, if we delay any longer, you'll die!"
Stick replied firmly, lifting Elektra without further argument and swiftly retreating to safety.
Kingpin remained kneeling before Wesley's headless body, his whole frame trembling with overwhelming grief and rage.
"Ah!"
After what felt like an eternity, Kingpin finally let out a roar of anguish towards the sky.
Though Kingpin was a ruthless and merciless man, indifferent to the deaths of all his subordinates, Wesley was the exception. In Kingpin's heart, Wesley was the only one he could truly call a friend.
But now, his only friend had been killed right before his eyes.
"Wesley, whoever did this, I swear I'll take her head to honor you!"
Kingpin vowed in a voice that trembled with fury. Elektra had kept her face concealed throughout the encounter, making her difficult to identify directly. He would have to rely on other clues to find his target.
Kingpin's mind raced as he started to piece together the situation.
Moments later, his gaze sharpened, filled with murderous intent.
'Shin, could it be you?'
Kingpin's suspicion wasn't baseless.
Although he was currently sharing control of Hell's Kitchen with Madam Gao, Shin, Leland Owlsley, and the Bear Brothers, he remained the most powerful among them.
Kingpin had infiltrated every system in Hell's Kitchen—police, judiciary, politics, you name it. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him the underground emperor of Hell's Kitchen.
Like the back of his hand, he knew every big and small faction in Hell's Kitchen.
Masked fighters using cold weapons? That style didn't belong to any faction in Hell's Kitchen except Shin's Yakuza!
Only that man had a crew of ninjas under his command.
Moreover, Kingpin's identity in Hell's Kitchen was always shrouded in mystery, and very few people knew who he truly was.
And among those who did, even fewer dared to make a move against him!
But Shin?
He fit every single criterion.
Who else would Kingpin suspect but Shin?
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"Hang in there, kid!"
While Kingpin's mind was racing with wild thoughts, Stick had already dragged Elektra to a concealed and safe location.
He gave Elektra some basic first aid and, moving as quickly as possible, brought her to a temporary hideout—Matt Murdock's old apartment.
Though Matt was gone, the lease on the apartment was still valid, so the place remained empty. Stick had spent his time in Hell's Kitchen staying at Matt's place.
"Stick!"
A Chaste disciple, who had been notified earlier, immediately rushed over when he saw Stick.
"Quick, help me carry her inside."
Stick ordered the disciple. Together, they carefully carried Elektra to an already-cleared bed.
The disciple, already prepared with medical tools, skillfully cut away Erica's clothing and began to examine her wound.
"Don't worry, the bullet is lodged in the flesh, but it hasn't hit any organs or major blood vessels. We just need to remove it," the disciple assured Stick and Erica.
Both of them breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this.
Such a wound was not fatal to Elektra; perhaps they had just overreacted.
But who could blame them? After all, Elektra had been shot at close range in a situation like that...
'Wait!'
'How could the bullet be lodged in just the flesh?'
'A close-range shot should have had much more penetration.'
'Could it have hit a bone?'
But judging by the disciple's tone, that didn't seem to be the case; a bullet hitting a bone would have been far more troublesome, requiring hospital-grade removal due to the bone fragments.
Stick sensed something was off.
Too many mysteries surrounded this new Iron Fist, leaving Stick bewildered.
'Why would K'un-Lun's new Iron Fist abandon his mission and come to a place like Hell's Kitchen to lead an underground faction?'
'Was it all just a facade?'
'Considering how members of the Hand had also secretly infiltrated Hell's Kitchen, that explanation seemed plausible.'
'However, Iron Fist's style and approach were clearly different from Kunlun's.' This was something Stick couldn't quite wrap his head around.
Still, these were secondary concerns. Stick wasn't from Kunlun, and his understanding of the place was limited.
The most crucial point was that the man could light up his fist!
With the Iron Fist out in the world, Stick felt more confident in his fight against The Hand.
As for his unfortunate disciple, Matt Murdock?
Stick could only silently mourn for him in his heart.
After all, the one who killed him was the Iron Fist.
Given a choice between avenging his disciple and dealing with The Hand, Stick would undoubtedly choose the latter.
Stick even began thinking about how he might adjust his strategies in the future.
Elektra's condition turned out to be relatively stable. The Chaste disciple managed to extract the bullet from her body without even having to use a scalpel; a pair of forceps did the trick. The wound was disinfected and stitched up in no time.
Everything went smoothly.
After receiving an IV drip, Elektra slept deeply for over three hours. When she woke, she already looked much better.
"How do you feel?"
Stick sat on the sofa, slowly polishing his longsword. Without pausing his movements, he asked casually.
"I'm not dead yet."
Elektra got out of bed and sat down in front of Stick, her face weary.
Thinking back on everything that had happened today, she felt utterly frustrated. They had been so close to success!
It was especially humiliating to her, having been ambushed by such a weak opponent. It was almost unimaginable.
No, something wasn't right!
The more Elektra thought about it, the more convinced she became that Wesley hadn't been holding a gun at the time.
She couldn't possibly have made a mistake about that.
His gun had fallen to the ground when she stabbed him in the heart.
'So, where did the bullet come from?'
How could it have hit her?
That bullet had seemed to materialize out of thin air from Wesley's hand, which was completely absurd.
'Wait!'
Just as Elektra was about to dismiss her ridiculous thought, she suddenly remembered Kingpin's glowing fist.
If someone's fist could turn into a red-hot iron rod, then why couldn't another person's hand fire bullets?
'This world is just too crazy!'
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Next Chapter: The Fruit that Extracts Juice?
Next Next Chapter: The Abilities of Squeeze
Next Next Next Chapter: A Forbidden Order
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