Marvel's Iron Lady

"What exactly is going on? Why are you here, Mary Jane? This is not a safe place," Peter asked, clearly worried.

"Fisk is working for Osborn, and they've set up a dangerous lab in the city," Mary Jane responded, her voice tense. "Peter, I need you to distract them while I get the data out."

Mary Jane was well aware of Spider-Man's true identity, and it was this knowledge that had ultimately led to the end of their relationship. However, at this moment, surrounded by masked gunmen, this was no time for a heart-to-heart.

"Alright, just be careful. I'll take care of the guys outside," Peter agreed after a moment of thought.

He swiftly exited the storage room where they had been hiding and made his presence known to the masked intruders.

A group of men in black suits, armed and wearing eerie, identical black-and-white masks, turned to face him. The sight of the masks sent a chill down Peter's spine.

"Hey, guys, maybe we can talk this out—" Peter began, spreading his hands in a gesture of peace.

But his words were met only by the cold, silent response of several raised guns. The masked men remained wordless, their movements eerily synchronized, as if they were puppets controlled by an unseen force.

Though the intruders were armed and numerous, they were still just regular people. Relying on his enhanced reflexes and Spider-Sense, Peter swiftly incapacitated the group, knocking them to the ground and binding them with webs.

Despite their numbers, none of the masked men uttered a single word during the entire encounter. Even as they struggled against their bonds, they remained eerily silent, as if their voices were trapped behind the masks.

Something about this fight unsettled Peter. These weren't ordinary criminals. They didn't speak, didn't scream, didn't even grunt in pain. It was as if their faces were sealed shut behind those masks.

Curious, Peter crouched down next to one of the subdued men and tried to pull off the mask. However, the mask wasn't merely strapped on; it seemed to be fused to the person's face. No matter how much Peter tugged, it wouldn't come off unless he used extreme force, which might injure the person.

Reluctantly, Peter let go. He didn't want to hurt anyone unnecessarily. But the unsettling silence of these masked intruders lingered in his mind.

Meanwhile, in a luxury hotel owned by the Osborn family, Stark was engaged in negotiations with Norman Osborn himself. She had little concern for Spider-Man's whereabouts or the battle he was embroiled in. For her, the most pressing matter was securing more funding for her own experiments.

With her patent royalties from Helen running low and Osborn's investment not yielding immediate returns, Stark desperately needed a new financial pipeline. She had turned her attention to the insurance industry, hoping that with the right connections—including Wilson Fisk—she could establish a lucrative business structure.

But with Fisk behind bars and unable to assist, Stark had made a new decision: she would personally visit Hell's Kitchen the next morning to meet with someone who had been responsible for putting Fisk in prison.

The worn metal blinds rattled slightly in the afternoon breeze, letting fragmented sunlight filter into the dingy old office. The noise of the bustling city had finally quieted down, offering a rare moment of peace in this run-down part of town.

Inside, a cluttered room lay bathed in the warm, late-afternoon light. Disorganized files were scattered across the desk, mixed in with a pile of invoices. A cheap takeout meal sat half-eaten on the coffee table, next to a paper cup stained with dried coffee residue.

In the middle of this chaotic scene, a young man in a black trench coat was curled up in an armchair, fast asleep.

A female assistant quietly entered, careful not to wake him as she began tidying the room. But her gentle cleaning eventually stirred him from his slumber.

"Good afternoon, Matt. Another long night?" the woman asked with a kind smile as the man stretched and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh, sorry, Karen," Matt replied, reaching for his sunglasses on the desk. "I pulled another all-nighter. What time is it?"

Matt Murdock, the man now stirring awake, was a lawyer by day and the vigilante known as Daredevil by night. He was blind, his eyes unfocused and devoid of sight. Yet, those who knew him well understood that his lack of vision was only a small part of his complex life.

Before Karen could respond, a knock sounded at the door, followed by a brief exchange of raised voices from outside.

"Miss, the security here is terrible! You really shouldn't be coming to a place like this without bodyguards!" a man's voice protested.

"I didn't bring any bodyguards? What do you call yourself, Happy?" came the sharp reply.

Despite the protests, the door opened, and a familiar figure walked in, ignoring the run-down state of the office.

Hell's Kitchen, a part of Clinton Street, had once been one of the most crime-ridden neighborhoods in all of New York City. Though it had improved in recent decades, its reputation as a rough area persisted.

Since the 1980s, New York City has been making continuous efforts to clean up the Hell's Kitchen area for over thirty years. Despite its reputation for poor public safety, Hell's Kitchen is a vital part of the city due to its proximity to Manhattan. As Manhattan's central business district looked to expand outward, Hell's Kitchen stood in the way as an unavoidable obstacle.

Thus, sweeping changes occurred here—first and foremost, improvements in law and order. As the gangs that once controlled Hell's Kitchen were gradually uprooted, the Clinton Street neighborhood began to see better safety conditions. The relatively affordable rent in the area then started attracting more white-collar workers and middle-class residents, who injected fresh energy into the district and helped rejuvenate it.

Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law, also found its home in Hell's Kitchen, thanks to the low rental costs. With Wilson Fisk's trial fast approaching, Matt Murdock, as the prosecuting attorney, had decided to personally take charge of the case.

Stark was acutely aware of what would happen to New York if Fisk remained incarcerated. Without this criminal kingpin to keep the city's underworld in check, the various gang factions would likely start vying for dominance, leading to chaos. To prevent the city from descending into disorder, Stark decided she needed to have a conversation with Matt. Even if it didn't resolve anything, getting to know this Daredevil would still be worthwhile.

"Matt, we've got a client," Karen, Matt's assistant, said, her tone shifting as soon as she heard the knock on the office door.

The law firm hadn't been taking many cases recently, and Matt had been known to handle many legal matters pro bono. Meanwhile, Foggy Nelson, Matt's business partner, didn't concern himself with the firm's day-to-day operations, which had resulted in the firm's finances becoming so tight that even Karen's paycheck was often delayed. This near-dead state of the firm was why Karen's attitude shifted so quickly at the prospect of a paying client.

"Hello, welcome to Nelson & Murdock. How can we assist you?" Karen asked as she opened the door, only to be greeted by a woman dressed in a striking outfit.

Despite the sunglasses obscuring the woman's eyes, Karen found her face somewhat familiar. Realizing it was impolite to keep the guest standing in the doorway, Karen quickly stepped aside, allowing Stark and her bodyguard to enter the somewhat shabby office.

"I'm sorry, you look familiar. Welcome to our firm," Karen said apologetically as Stark gave a nod and glanced around the office, which appeared rundown and cluttered.

This was far from the typical image of a law firm, and Stark couldn't help but note that Matt Murdock's life likely wasn't as comfortable as she had expected. Her gaze then landed on the blind lawyer seated behind the desk, the man she had come to meet.

For Matt Murdock, the world wasn't just darkness. Though his vision was gone, his senses of hearing, touch, and smell had been heightened to extraordinary levels. Stark had already looked into Matt's background before coming to this law firm, learning about his tragic childhood. His father, a hot-tempered boxer, had exposed Matt to domestic violence, and when his father was brutally killed in the streets due to a boxing match fixing scandal, Matt swore to seek justice for the innocent in his own way.

By day, Matt was a well-dressed blind lawyer, fighting crime through legal channels. By night, he donned a red suit and became Daredevil, taking justice into his own hands. This contrast only intrigued Stark more.

Surveying the room and finding no proper place to sit, Stark frowned slightly. "You run a business, yet you let your clients stand?" she remarked, causing Karen to snap to attention. Hastily, Karen cleared off a chair that had been piled with papers and offered it to Stark. Though the chair wasn't spotless, it wasn't too dirty either.

As Stark sat, she noticed Matt's focus seemed to remain on her, even though he was blind. This intrigued her even more. How did he always manage to keep track of her presence despite his lack of sight?

While Stark's interest in Matt grew, the lawyer himself was growing increasingly wary of the woman in front of him.

"I've heard a lot about you, Murdock. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person," Stark said.

Despite being blind, Matt's heightened senses allowed him to "see" more clearly than most. In his legal work, he had even developed the ability to detect lies through the subtle changes in a person's heartbeat.

To him, the world was a dark place, but he had trained himself to perceive people through their movements, their breathing, and the way blood flowed through their veins. Yet, standing before Stark, Matt found himself in unfamiliar territory. His usual ability to read people was failing him.

The woman before him felt... different. She exuded an immense energy that was unlike anything he had ever encountered. It was as though her very presence was burning orange-red, radiating danger. Even more strangely, her heart barely seemed to beat. In the entire time she had been in the room, he had only detected two faint, powerful heartbeats.

The blood in her body didn't seem to flow in the normal way, either. If he hadn't seen her walk in and speak, he might have thought she was dead. His instincts were screaming at him that this woman was dangerous, and every muscle in his body was tensing in response.

Closing his eyes and removing the sunglasses from his face, Matt's voice trembled as he finally broke the silence. "Karen... could you do me a favor and pick up some beer for the office? I'd like to speak with our guest privately."

Karen knew Matt didn't drink beer, but she understood his intention. He wanted her to leave. Stark smiled softly, clearly recognizing the same.

"Happy," she called to her bodyguard, "why don't you drive Karen to the mall? It's been a while since she's had a chance to shop."

As Stark's longtime bodyguard, Happy Hogan was well aware of the significance of her mysterious smile. Whenever she smiled like that, someone was about to walk into her trap.

"Alright, Miss Stark. I'll take care of it," Happy replied with a sigh, feeling a pang of sympathy for the young lawyer left behind.

Once Happy and Karen had exited, silence returned to the office. Matt could hear the faint sounds of the city outside, but within this room, the only sounds were the woman's two slow heartbeats.

The oppressive quiet stretched on until Matt, unable to stand it any longer, finally spoke, shattering the stillness.

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