"Daredevil, if you keep following me, I won't hesitate to shove an icicle up your ass until it comes out of your mouth."
Vincent kept his voice low, but he knew Matt Murdock could hear a heartbeat from three blocks away.
This was a warning.
Matt Murdock had helped him before. When Vincent's parents died, it was Matt—then just a blind pro-bono lawyer—who helped a sixteen-year-old orphan secure his inheritance and fake guardianship papers to avoid the foster system. For two years, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen had watched over him from the shadows.
Vincent respected him. But tonight was personal. He didn't want Matt's morality getting in the way of his vengeance.
China Garden Restaurant.
The headquarters of the Triad in Hell's Kitchen.
To the public, it was the best dim sum spot in the district.
Under the surface, it was a nexus of human trafficking, heroin distribution, and arms dealing.
Madame Gao stood by the window of her office on the top floor. She was a small, frail-looking elderly woman in simple robes, but her presence commanded absolute terror.
She watched the smoke rising from a warehouse three blocks away.
"Kitchen Number 3 is burning," she said, her voice calm and detached. "Who did this? The Irish? The Japanese? The Russians?"
Behind her, a row of hardened killers bowed their heads, afraid to breathe too loudly.
"I have told you," Gao turned slowly, her eyes sweeping over her lieutenants. "Business must be quiet. Silence is profitable. Noise brings attention."
She sounded like a grandmother scolding children for playing too loud.
"But you have become arrogant. Careless. Now, the wolves are at the door. If I were an enemy, I would just ask a junkie where to find your stash houses."
"Madame," a large Caucasian man named Jordan stepped forward. "Should we send men to hunt this attacker down?"
Gao looked at Jordan. He was loyal, brutal, and effective.
"If we don't find him, Jordan, do you think any of my kitchens will survive the night?"
Her smile didn't reach her eyes.
BOOM!
Another explosion rocked the building, rattling the windowpanes.
Gao spun around.
"Kitchen Number 1," she whispered.
She realized then. This wasn't a gang war. This was a purge. The attacker wasn't taking territory; he was erasing them.
Minutes later, a report came in.
Kitchen Number 2 had gone silent.
"Madame! We need to send reinforcements to Kitchen 4!" Jordan shouted, panicking.
"No," Gao snapped, her voice suddenly sharp as a blade. "Recall everyone. Defend the China Garden. He is coming here."
"Why?"
"Because he wants the head, not the tail."
Gao picked up the phone to call Kingpin. But before she could dial, the sound of gunfire erupted downstairs.
It wasn't a skirmish. It sounded like a war zone.
Downstairs.
Vincent walked through the front doors of the restaurant, dual-wielding submachine guns he had looted earlier.
"Monster! He's a monster! Bullets don't work!"
Triad soldiers screamed as they retreated up the stairs.
Vincent moved like a wraith. He didn't use cover. He simply walked forward, the bullets sparking off his elementalized skin.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
He cleared the lobby. He cleared the mezzanine.
Explosions from his grenades shook the foundation.
Finally, a voice cut through the chaos.
"ENOUGH!"
It wasn't loud, but it carried a strange, resonant power that vibrated in everyone's chest. Chi.
Madame Gao stood on the landing of the second floor.
"Iceman!" she shouted, mistaking his powers for the X-Man. "The Triad has no quarrel with the X-Men. Do mutants wish to start a war with the Underworld Alliance?"
Vincent stopped. He was covered in frost, his black tactical gear frozen stiff. He tossed the empty guns aside.
"You are Gao?" he asked, his voice distorted by the cold air.
Whoosh!
A rocket-propelled grenade hissed from a side room, aimed directly at his head.
"Ice Shield!"
A massive, diamond-shaped wall of ice materialized instantly.
BOOM!
The explosion washed over the ice, leaving it unscratched.
Vincent lowered the shield. His eyes, glowing with blue mana, locked onto the old woman.
"Is this your idea of a ceasefire?"
Gao's pupils constricted. That wasn't mutant power. That was... elemental mastery.
"Cease fire!" she screamed. "Anyone who shoots dies by my hand!"
The room fell silent. Dozens of Triad guns were trained on Vincent, but no one dared pull the trigger.
Gao forced a polite smile onto her face.
"Sir. Perhaps there is a misunderstanding?"
Vincent reached into his pocket. He pulled out a photograph and flicked his wrist.
The photo flew like a shuriken, spinning through the air. Gao caught it effortlessly between two fingers.
Vincent noted her speed. She definitely has martial arts training.
"Five minutes," Vincent said.
He walked to a table, kicked a corpse aside, and sat down. He created a chair out of solid ice and crossed his legs.
"I want the two men in that photo. Alive."
"Five minutes. If they aren't here..."
Vincent looked around the room, his gaze heavy with killing intent.
"...I will erase the Triad from Hell's Kitchen. Permanently."
"Madame Gao. You come from K'un-Lun. You have seen the world. You know there are powers on this earth that can flatten your little empire in a heartbeat."
The threat hung in the air, chilling the blood of every gangster in the room.
Gao looked at the photo. Two low-level junkies.
She grit her teeth so hard they nearly cracked. All this destruction... for two street rats?
"Find them," she hissed at Jordan. "Bring them here. NOW!"
Jordan grabbed the photo and ran.
The clock started ticking.
Vincent sat on his ice throne, staring out the window at the burning city, waiting. His senses expanded, feeling the vibrations of every heartbeat in the building.
The Kingpin's men were gathering outside. The police were coming. Daredevil was watching.
Let them watch.