Alvin knew who Matt was—the famous Daredevil from Marvel Comics, who, dressed in red and black, patrolled the streets and alleys of Hell's Kitchen every night, fighting crime and protecting ordinary people.
In the comics, he was a powerful, intelligent, almost omnipotent superhero. But Alvin knew that in reality, he was a bruised and battered fanatic.
As a native of Hell's Kitchen, Matt was obsessively determined to change its current state. He believed that the countless gangs and endless crime had turned Hell's Kitchen into the desperate place it was.
He wanted to improve the environment of Hell's Kitchen by cracking down on crime and gang dealings, but he didn't realize that everything he did was futile; gangs and crime would never disappear.
In Alvin's eyes, he was just an ordinary person with good fighting skills, perhaps with a superpower he could call 'super hearing'. But facing desperate gang members, he often couldn't gain a complete upper hand, and injuries were inevitable.
However, Alvin admired Matt's character and spirit. A guy whose heart was solely focused on the safety of others was always worthy of respect!
Alvin, feeling a bit ashamed, apologized to Matt, "I'm sorry, Matt, you know I made a deal with Kingpin and can't interfere with other districts."
Matt listened, then smiled helplessly, looking particularly helpless and somewhat lost as he said, "Alvin, we both want Hell's Kitchen to be better. Why have you changed three districts, while I haven't changed anything? People in other districts are still being robbed and murdered.
And I'm powerless. Sometimes I hate my abilities, which allow me to hear strangers' cries for help every night. I've tried, but I can't help everyone. I don't know what to do."
Alvin refilled his beer, adding two small shots of whiskey, and placed it in front of him. He tapped the glass, signaling him to drink.
Alvin continued, "Matt, changing the environment of a place is never a one-person job. Do you know why the first condition I made to S.H.I.E.L.D. was to improve the police station's equipment?"
Without waiting for Matt's answer, Alvin went on, "That way, people like Michael and Scott will dare to patrol the streets at night. Not all criminals are so deranged that they'd attack the police. As long as there are police patrolling the streets, the public safety in Hell's Kitchen will improve."
Matt silently raised his glass, took a big gulp of alcohol, and said, "But people are still getting hurt, and I'm powerless." As he spoke, Matt took off his sunglasses, revealing gray-white eyes that seemed to lack pupils. Matt rubbed his cheeks hard, looking utterly helpless.
Alvin listened to Matt's words, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness, and said, "You're not God, and God can't save everyone. Matt, you need to allow yourself to relax.
We all want to make this place better, and we need to work together. Buddy, instead of going out every day to be a vigilante, why not help the real police so they can return to their posts?
Buddy, I'll talk to Kingpin and ask him to restrain his subordinates from bothering ordinary people. And you shouldn't go looking for trouble with him either; that will only get you hurt.
Besides, having someone who can control the gangs, no matter what, is much better than a chaotic Hell's Kitchen."
Matt chugged the rest of his beer, saying with a hint of anger, "So, Kingpin gets to walk free?"
Alvin explained helplessly, "Kingpin isn't the problem, and the current state of Hell's Kitchen wasn't caused by Kingpin.
Getting rid of him is very simple, but what then? Hundreds of gangs, big and small, would lose control. What would Hell's Kitchen become?
As long as Kingpin is still here, there will at least be some order, even if it's an underground order."
Matt slumped on the bar, helpless and confused, looking as if he was about to be crushed. He whispered, "Alvin, I don't know if you're right, but at least what you've done has had a much stronger effect than what I've done. But that doesn't mean I'll give up my approach. I'll continue until I truly can't do anything more."
Alvin knew that by "can't do anything more," he meant until he died. Alvin respected him and would not stop him from acting on his ideal of "making the community better."
Alvin patted his shoulder and said, "I support you, but you need to at least take a break once in a while." Then he gestured for Matt to have another drink, this time Alvin switched to whiskey.
Soon, Matt was completely drunk. While Foggy was chatting and bragging with someone, a thin red vine pierced Matt's calf, and a red energy flowed through the vine into Matt's body. That was the ability of the Ghoul Vine: devouring corpses and converting them into life force.
Alvin timed it, and when the input energy was enough to fully restore Matt's injured body, Alvin recalled the Ghoul Vine.
He nonchalantly poured himself a drink, downed it in one go, and looked at the sleeping Matt, whose face was flushed. Alvin murmured, "To noble character! To persistent effort! Cheers!"
The joyful atmosphere lasted until midnight, ending when the restaurant closed. After Alvin arranged for JJ to take Matt and Foggy home, he returned to his second-floor bedroom. He first checked on little Nick, found him already asleep, smiled, tucked him in, turned off the light, and walked out.
He turned to find Jessica leaning against the hallway wall, looking at him. Alvin touched his cheek and asked, "What's wrong? Is there something dirty on my face?"
Jessica gazed at Alvin's face, her eyes filled with a shy admiration that made Alvin a little uncomfortable. In his previous life, he was a thirty-five-year-old man; in this life, being stared at by a nineteen-year-old girl made him a bit flustered. This shouldn't be happening. So he joked, "Jessie, did you leave something with me?"
Jessica shook her head in confusion.
Alvin feigned disappointment, sighing, "Oh, I thought our Jessie had left her heart with me and was waiting here to get it back."
Jessica's face began to turn red at a visible speed, so red that Alvin started to worry she might spontaneously combust.
In her embarrassed anger, Jessica stomped her foot heavily, and with a "crack," a hole was stomped into the wooden floor of the second-floor corridor. Her entire right leg sank into the hole. Losing her balance, her upper body naturally tilted backward, making her already not-so-prominent chest appear even smaller.
Both of them froze. Alvin swore he was shocked by how flimsy his house was, and absolutely not making fun of Jessica's embarrassing situation.
Jessica's face turned from red to white, the color draining almost instantly. Thinking of how she looked now, with one leg stuck below the floor and the other resting on it.
Jessica could imagine how mortified she looked. Not daring to look at Alvin's expression, she pushed against the floor with both hands and pulled her leg out. Because she pulled too hard, one of her pant legs was completely torn, revealing her fair long leg, and she also dislodged another piece of the floor.
Jessica covered her face and let out a desperate, muffled shriek, then rushed into her room, slamming the door shut. Because she used too much force, the entire door, along with its frame, flew out and crashed against the opposite wall.
Alvin looked at the house that needed major repairs and silently complained to himself. He was just being a smartass; why did he have to tease Jessica, especially when she was a girl with immense strength and easily embarrassed? Well, tomorrow would be another busy day.
Alvin walked to the door and peeked in. Jessica was lying on the bed, her head buried under a pillow, letting out frustrated screams. Not to provoke a woman at this moment—that was experience from a married man.
He propped up the door, put the door frame back in place, and then shooed Nick, who had woken up from the commotion and was eavesdropping, back to bed. He then returned to his own room, ready for a good night's sleep to end this busy day.