"If you don't want your daughter Maddie to disappear again, calm down and listen to me."
The voice was cold, flat, and utterly merciless.
In Hell's Kitchen, long past midnight, Ivan jolted awake from a shallow, exhausted sleep. Before he could even understand what was happening, a rough hand clamped over his mouth, and the icy tip of a dagger pressed dangerously close to his eye.
Any attempt to scream died in his throat.
His heart nearly stopped.
The man pinning him down wore a black suit, tailored tightly over a compact but powerful frame. He wasn't tall, but every inch of him radiated practiced violence. His knee pressed into Ivan's chest with professional precision—enough to restrain, not enough to kill.
Ivan's eyes darted sideways in blind panic.
His wife lay beside him on the bed, completely motionless.
"Don't worry," the man said calmly, tilting the dagger slightly so Ivan could feel the cold steel more clearly. "I didn't kill her. Just knocked her out."
Relief flooded Ivan's chest—only to be strangled immediately by fear.
The man leaned closer.
"Listen carefully. I'm only going to say this once."
This was Walker, one of the very few men trusted to act directly under Kingpin's orders. Other jobs could be delegated. This one could not.
The fewer people who knew, the better.
That was why Walker had come himself.
"Tomorrow night," Walker continued, "you're going to climb to the torch of the Statue of Liberty."
Ivan's breathing grew ragged.
"You're going to stand at the edge," Walker said, his tone almost conversational, "and you're going to threaten to jump."
Ivan shook violently beneath him.
"But before you do," Walker added, "when the police arrive, you will demand—very clearly—'Have Batman come personally and reveal his true face.'"
Ivan's mind reeled.
Batman?
Why Batman?
Walker seemed to read the confusion in his eyes.
"You do exactly what I say," Walker went on, "and when it's over, there will be a bank card waiting in your house. Enough money for your family to live comfortably for ten years without working."
Ivan's eyes widened.
"However," Walker said softly, the dagger shifting again, "if you refuse…"
He paused.
"You might survive."
Ivan swallowed hard.
"But you'll never see your daughter again."
Walker grabbed Ivan by the hair and forced his head downward, gesturing toward the foot of the bed.
"Wuwu—!"
A muffled whimper cut through the room.
Ivan's vision blurred as he saw Maddie, his little girl, tied up at the foot of the bed. Her hands were bound behind her back, her mouth sealed with tape, tears streaming down her face as she struggled helplessly.
Something inside Ivan shattered.
There was no choice.
Not really.
He nodded weakly, a broken, desperate motion—half sob, half laugh.
Walker seemed pleased.
"Oh, one more thing," he said casually. "Write that sentence down somewhere. Big letters. In case the police can't hear you."
He smirked faintly.
"The Statue of Liberty is 92.99 meters tall, after all."
Walker removed his hand from Ivan's mouth and sheathed the dagger.
The moment Ivan could speak, his voice cracked.
"Please… please let my daughter go. I swear I'll do everything you say."
Walker didn't even look at him.
He bent down, tucked Maddie under one arm like a package, and headed toward the window.
Desperation twisted Ivan's fear into something else.
"Wait," Ivan blurted. "C-can you leave me some money first?"
Walker paused.
"I don't have money," Ivan continued weakly. "I can't even afford the boat fare to Liberty Island."
The Statue of Liberty stood on Liberty Island, surrounded by water. Without money, Ivan couldn't even reach the place where he was supposed to die.
Walker turned back, surprised.
He reached into his pockets.
Nothing.
Not a single coin.
"…Give me a few minutes," Walker said after a pause.
He stepped onto the windowsill and leapt out, Maddie still under his arm.
Only then did Ivan realize something horrifying.
The window—he was sure of it—had been locked from the inside.
Yet Walker had entered silently, knocked out his wife, taken his daughter, and threatened him… without a sound.
Ivan rushed to his wife's side, shaking her gently. After confirming she was breathing normally and uninjured, he exhaled shakily.
Then the fear came rushing back twice as strong.
Maddie was gone.
Staring into the blackness beyond the open window, Ivan felt as if his life had already ended.
---
"Robbery."
Walker's voice cut sharply through the alley.
He stood over a homeless man, slumped against the wall, eyes dull with exhaustion.
"I—" the man began.
Walker flashed the dagger.
The homeless man froze, eyes wide. Without another word, he fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a few scattered coins, hands trembling.
Walker snatched them all.
Ignoring the desperate pleas behind him, he turned and headed back toward Ivan's apartment.
---
He re-entered through the window just as silently as before and tossed the coins onto the bed.
"Don't forget what I told you," Walker said coldly. "Your daughter is with me. Whether you call the police or try to run—think carefully."
Then he vanished again into the night, Maddie still captive.
Ivan clutched the coins with shaking hands.
His heart broke.
He had already accepted his fate.
Tomorrow, he would jump.
---
Bang!
A dull thud echoed outside the window.
Then—
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Maddie's terrified cries pierced the night.
Ivan heard the violent whoosh of bodies colliding, fists striking flesh, feet slamming into bone.
He dropped the coins and scrambled to the window.
Outside, two figures were locked in brutal combat.
Maddie lay on the ground nearby, crying and crawling toward the window.
By the time Ivan clumsily climbed out, the fight was already over.
Walker lay motionless on the pavement.
Standing over him was a man dressed in dark red, horns rising from his mask, his posture tense but controlled.
Ivan gathered his daughter into his arms, sobbing with relief, then looked up.
"W-who are you?" he asked, voice trembling.
"Daredevil," the man replied.
He knelt, untied Maddie's hands, and removed the tape from her mouth.
Ivan hugged his daughter tightly, then noticed the dagger embedded deep in Daredevil's leg.
"Your… your leg…"
Daredevil glanced down, grabbed the handle, and pulled it out without hesitation.
Blood flowed freely.
He didn't even flinch.
"Do you know who that man was?" Daredevil asked.
Ivan shook his head.
"Repeat everything he said to you," Daredevil ordered, his voice low and rough.
Ivan swallowed and obeyed.
As he repeated Walker's words, his voice suddenly faltered.
"…I never told anyone," Ivan whispered. "I was ashamed. Maddie disappeared once… I didn't tell my wife, didn't tell the police."
His hands trembled.
"Only the man who helped me find her knew. He told me his name."
Ivan looked up slowly.
"Wilson Fisk."
Daredevil went still.
"…Kingpin," he muttered.
---
At the same time, deep within an abandoned shipyard, Batman worked silently.
He laid out Black Cat's recorder, camera footage, and stacks of meticulously gathered evidence.
Kidnapping.
Illegal weapons.
Drug trafficking disguised as "cigarettes."
Enough to bring Kingpin to court.
But not enough to guarantee his fall.
Kingpin was too entrenched. Too powerful.
And now—
The Green Goblin was loose.
Recent murders. Explosions. And just hours ago—
The Manhattan Police Department had been bombed.
Batman's jaw tightened beneath the cowl.
Norman Osborn was escalating.
Against a flying enemy armed with high-speed blades and a glider, Batman's limitations were becoming clear.
Which meant only one thing.
The Bat Cape was no longer optional.
Without vehicles.
Without the Batcave.
With the cape alone—
Batman would gain mobility, control, and combat dominance far beyond his current state.
The priority shifted instantly.
The Bat Cape had moved to the top of the list.
And once it returned—
The hunt would begin.
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