"A lawyer upholding justice?" Daredevil snorted, looking at Lance Prescott.
"You are a lawyer too. Tell me, is that what you think? Do you feel you represent justice? Would you be willing to uphold justice to help the weak? If you truly thought so, and actually went to do it—given the weak status you and I have—could you really pull it off?"
Lance looked steadily at Daredevil, then smiled.
He said, "My answer is: No, no, no, and still no."
He raised a finger for every "no" he uttered.
"To all your questions above, the answer is negative."
"So what I mean is..."
"So you think that when you can't do it as a lawyer, you try to shift your mindset, change your identity, and then you think you can do it?" Lance interrupted.
He looked Daredevil up and down, taking in the armor. "Using this ridiculous color scheme paired with a skintight suit, plus an inexplicable mask?"
His gaze landed on Daredevil's crotch, and he said quite meanly, "Sometimes I really can't understand why you people, as superheroes, always favor skintight suits. Don't you think that for bystanders, it's a form of visual harassment?"
Daredevil's body stiffened for a moment.
"Wh-what?"
"See," Lance spread his hands, seemingly innocent, "You clearly understand what I mean too."
Daredevil realized belatedly what the other man was talking about and retorted angrily, "Only a pervert would notice those details! Also, what decisions I make have nothing to do with you. You have no right to judge me."
"Oh, of course, of course." Lance Prescott whistled frivolously, then drew a conclusion.
"Another little boy in his rebellious phase. How interesting," he said.
Daredevil took a deep breath. He realized his emotions were being strongly provoked. This wasn't right—or rather, this wasn't the scenario he had envisioned for today.
He had been here for so long, yet he hadn't even stated his purpose. Instead he was being led by the nose.
Lance Prescott was using that courtroom tactic: provoke, irritate, and lead the opponent to expose their weaknesses.
It was just that every word he said precisely struck the questions Matt would ponder when alone late at night.
But that was as far as it would go.
Daredevil thought that once he saw through Prescott's little tricks, this tactic would no longer work on him.
After a long while, he spoke.
"Stop using your low-class tricks to disrupt my will. This time I came to see you to determine your identity and your purpose for coming here. And those people who once provoked you—why did they all go crazy?"
"Oh?" Lance Prescott raised an eyebrow. "So are you here to enforce the law, or to admonish me?"
"Three of the people you scared crazy have been admitted to a mental hospital." Daredevil took a step closer. "You should know that sometimes excessive self-defense is also a crime."
Hearing Daredevil's words, Lance Prescott smiled. [P.S. For those who don't get it.. he took some vials of fear toxin, remember?]
"Lawyer Matt," he said, "how many ribs do you break every night? How many people do you give concussions to? How many people do you send to the ICU? You use billy clubs, and I... I just use some insignificant little gadgets. But what is the fundamental difference between the two? Just because you wear that ridiculous skintight suit, your violence is more noble than mine?"
Daredevil was silent.
"Let me guess," Lance continued. "You didn't come here to arrest me. Because you know catching me is useless. Will those thugs who were scared crazy testify in court? Will the police believe testimony like: 'I just walked into his law firm and then got scared crazy'?"
"We are both lawyers. We don't believe in intuition, we don't believe in rumors, we only believe in evidence. And right now, you have nothing."
"I said, don't try to play your little tricks again." Daredevil's voice turned cold. "I want to know who you are and where you came from."
"If you did your homework, you would know exactly who I am. After all, you are a lawyer too, and Tony Stark is no nobody."
Lance pulled a business card from his drawer and flicked it in front of him.
"My middleman said that if I took this Stark case, every law firm in New York would be fighting to lick my shoes. It seems he lied to me."
Daredevil was silent again. He didn't take the business card, so Lance understood.
"It seems you don't even care about the inside scoop of your own industry." He shook his head. "That won't do, Matt. You can't be a good lawyer if you isolate yourself."
"Don't talk as if we are very familiar."
"Heh, why now? Heh~ After all, for the next little while, I will be your good neighbor in New York," Lance said with a smile.
"You are here to negotiate. Because I touched your turf. Those thugs were supposed to have their legs broken by you, but now they've been scared crazy by me. This disrupts your order, right?"
Lance looked up at Daredevil. "Matt, I thought you knew better than me. In Hell's Kitchen, there has never been order here. Only strength and weakness."
Daredevil's hand tightened around his billy club, but in the end, he didn't draw it.
"Leave Hell's Kitchen," he said.
"And if I don't?" Lance Prescott tilted his head to look at Daredevil. "Are you going to break my legs? Or throw me off the roof?"
The air suddenly fell into silence. Daredevil and Lance stared at each other, but neither spoke. It was as if electricity was crackling where their gazes met.
Then Lance Prescott suddenly smiled. "Relax, I am not your enemy. At least not right now."
He walked back to the coffee machine and poured two more cups.
"I know the rules," Lance said, pushing one of the cups over. "If you want to live on someone else's turf, you have to pay enough rent, and Hell's Kitchen is your turf after all."
"Hell's Kitchen is not anyone's turf," Daredevil said. He didn't take the coffee.
"Is that so?" Lance replied. "Then perhaps I should go find a guy named Kingpin. After all, those gang thugs who broke into my law firm earlier mentioned that the boss of Hell's Kitchen is Kingpin."
Daredevil's body visibly tensed. "Kingpin? You have information on Kingpin?"
"I suppose so," Lance said, swirling his coffee cup. "A few kids mentioned their boss when they came to provoke me, and of course, they also mentioned you, Daredevil. I wonder if this information is enough to pay the rent for my survival here during this time."
"Tell me."
"In short, be careful. Their boss, Kingpin, is already very impatient with a kid named Daredevil. As far as I know, when this impatience evolves into a certain level of annoyance, he will send people to take care of you, little bug."
"Why tell me this?"
"Didn't I say? I need to pay rent."
Daredevil clearly didn't accept this reason. He continued to stare coldly at Lance Prescott.
So Lance Prescott sighed. "Sigh.. this kid.." he said with emotion.
"Three reasons," Lance Prescott raised his fingers. "First, I don't like people conducting assassinations near my law firm. Blood splattered on the sign is hard to clean. Second, Kingpin's people have been harassing me lately, and I'm annoyed. Third..."
"...perhaps it's just that I'm a pervert who loves watching others wear skintight suits. Who knows."
____
Lance knows how to make others uncomfortable XD
You can read 12 chapters/two weeks ahead of WN at- Patreon.com/CorruptElf