Chapter 47: The Fierce and Terrifying Batmobile
Hell's Kitchen was exceptionally lively tonight.
One of Kingpin's most trusted core gang members—the short but muscular Walker—had disappeared.
Last night, Kingpin sent Walker to find Ivan and make him jump from the Statue of Liberty to force Batman to reveal himself, but Walker still hadn't returned.
Ivan, who was supposed to jump from Lady Liberty tonight, was also nowhere to be found.
"Felicia, Turk, Lester, Mac. Besides Walker, you four are the people I trust most right now."
"Even if you have to turn all of Manhattan upside down, find Walker for me. Kill him if necessary."
Kingpin, dressed in a white suit with a stocky build like a short wall, leaned on his cane.
Before him, besides Black Cat, three others wore black suits. The four showed varying expressions.
Turk looked troubled, his gaze lingering on Kingpin's cane for two seconds.
"Boss, Black Cat and Bullseye should be enough for this job. I have no muscle and can't fight—all I know is making tools."
The cane Kingpin frequently carried, almost never leaving his hand, was Turk's creation.
Though he hadn't even finished high school, through self-taught knowledge from various books, Turk became an expert at lockpicking and cracking safe codes. His reputation in New York's underworld was second only to the master thief "Black Fox."
After Black Fox refused one of Kingpin's theft jobs, the Fox was killed. Turk, with his theft and lockpicking skills plus inventing various tools, became one of Kingpin's most trusted people.
Kingpin wasn't surprised by Turk's refusal.
"You don't need to act personally. After the others find Walker, you'll transfer him to a safe location."
"Mac, you were a private investigator. Following clues is your specialty. Finding Walker is mainly your responsibility."
Mac—full name MacDonald "Mac" Gargan—had a scorpion tattoo on his neck, earning him the nickname "Scorpion."
Unlike Turk's somewhat mild face, Mac's sparse eyebrows and hooked nose made him look exceptionally vicious.
Hearing Kingpin's arrangement, Mac nodded without hesitation.
"Felicia, Lester... you're responsible for clearing all obstacles. Whatever the cost to find Walker, I'll accept it." Kingpin assigned again.
"Black Cat" Felicia smiled sweetly, her gaze sweeping over these colleagues serving under Kingpin.
Her father Black Fox's death connected to all of them.
Turk convinced Kingpin with "Black Fox's existence would hinder gang development." "Scorpion" Mac used traces to find the Fox in an alley. "Bullseye" Lester killed him.
"Don't worry, Kingpin." Black Cat's face showed no emotion beyond her smile. "We'll find Walker and bring him to you."
So as orders from Kingpin cascaded down, Hell's Kitchen roiled like boiling water. Sounds of doors being kicked in, glass shattering, and shrill screams from sleeping people erupted constantly.
Living or dead, Kingpin's gang members frantically burst into every household searching for Walker's traces. Manhattan precinct officers had to drive out pursuing these manic gang members.
Suddenly, police sirens wailed throughout Hell's Kitchen. Car engine roars, vehicle collisions, and tire screeching sounds erupted constantly.
Besides members searching for Walker, dozens of vehicles patrolled every Hell's Kitchen street, ready to divert police elsewhere.
BOOM!
A police car reached an intersection and was rammed by a suddenly accelerating truck, flying through the air and flipping several times before crashing down.
....
"Hear those sounds outside? How many families can't sleep tonight because of your vigilante justice?"
"Go play your dress-up games with those homeless people. Hell's Kitchen won't have peace for even a moment as long as you hold me."
In an underground parking garage on a street corner, the missing Walker sat on the ground with a black eye and swollen face, hands bound behind him.
Hearing the police car heavily rammed outside, Walker's face showed a trace of smile. He looked at Daredevil in dark red before him, mouth stretching wide.
"Kingpin won't rest without finding me. I know too many of his secrets. His people will find this place sooner or later..."
His words fell—crash!
The parking garage's rolling door Daredevil had lowered was smashed through. A pickup truck charged in.
Daredevil ignored Walker, pulling out his billy clubs and snapping them together into a staff.
"It's useless—they've found this place! You can't hide!" Walker shouted at the top of his lungs. "You have nowhere to run, spandex-wearer!"
BANG!
Daredevil's staff struck Walker's head heavily, knocking him unconscious. Then Daredevil hid Walker under a nearby parked vehicle and concealed himself as well.
Last night, hearing Ivan mention "Wilson Fisk," Daredevil immediately understood Walker's background.
Worried that taking Walker to the precinct would result in Kingpin bailing him out, Daredevil chose vigilante imprisonment, interrogating Walker about Kingpin's hideout.
But Daredevil didn't expect Kingpin's reaction to be so extreme—making all of Hell's Kitchen suffer to find Walker.
However, this also indicated Walker's position in Kingpin's organization was even higher than Daredevil imagined. Capturing him meant holding most of Kingpin's criminal evidence.
Vroom!
The pickup charged into the underground garage, headlights on, constantly circling inside, searching inch by inch for Walker's traces.
"Mac, you're sure Walker's hidden here? Don't waste my time."
Inside the pickup, Bullseye impatiently addressed Scorpion.
"Please trust a former private investigator's instincts, Bullseye." Scorpion drove confidently. "Every waking moment I collect intelligence. Otherwise, why do you think I'm Kingpin's intelligence specialist while you're just a pathetic enforcer?"
"I'm Kingpin's chief assassin, Scorpion." Bullseye extended one hand out the window, a playing card emerging from his fingertips.
The paper card spun through the air, smacking into a concrete support column.
"Found him." As the vehicle penetrated deeper into the garage—screech—Scorpion stopped the pickup, headlights illuminating Daredevil's hiding spot. "You handle Daredevil. I'll take Walker."
Bullseye chuckled. He'd been holding back, finally getting to fight someone.
Jumping down, Bullseye thrust both hands in his pockets. When he withdrew them, his fingertips already held seven or eight playing cards, all flying simultaneously toward Daredevil's hiding spot.
Discovered, Daredevil had nowhere to hide. Staff in hand, he engaged Bullseye.
Scorpion seized the opportunity while Bullseye fought Daredevil, following traces to find the black-and-blue Walker under a vehicle, tossing him in the truck and gunning the engine toward the garage exit.
"I've found Walker. Everyone cover me—"
As the pickup burst from the underground garage, Scorpion grabbed his radio.
But before finishing his words, he saw at the street's end a muscle car with an engine roaring like a beast charging madly. Every vehicle attempting to block it was rammed aside, yet its speed didn't decrease—it only accelerated further.
Vaguely, Scorpion glimpsed the heavily modified vehicle's front—barely recognizable. A massive bat symbol combined with a sharp plow blade, fierce as a demon's face.