Hayate Shiranui drove his repaired Mercedes 300SL back to the agency.
Over the past week, his daily routine had yielded a significant haul from the system. Through the daily check-ins alone, he had accumulated: 100 Delicious Ramens (50x2), 50 Gold Coins, 5,000 Copper Coins, 200 Cycle Stones, 1 Ninja Recruitment Scroll, and 1 Secret Jutsu Scroll.
At the Mission Center, the pace had been equally relentless. Sasuke and Rock Lee had completed a total of ten C-Rank missions. Furthermore, the massive commission from Wilson Fisk had been marked as officially complete.
Across the entire United States, not a single member of the Hand remained alive.
The ten C-Rank missions provided Hayate with 5,000 Prestige, 500,000 Copper Coins, and 10 Common Chests. Meanwhile, the A-Rank commission from Fisk yielded another 5,000 Prestige, 500,000 Copper, and 1 Exquisite Chest.
In the system's eyes, a single A-Rank mission's rewards were comparable to ten C-Ranks combined.
As it stood, Hayate's stats were looking healthy: 13,500 Prestige, 1.7 Million Copper Coins, and 72 Gold Coins. He now sat on a stockpile of 14 Common Chests and 1 Exquisite Chest. He had no intention of opening them just yet; he would wait until the Dragon Bone was in his possession to have a grand opening.
A Cemetery in New York.
A somber funeral was underway. Following Matt Murdock's death, Foggy Nelson had retrieved his body and weapons from the police station to hold a proper service.
Because Matt's identity had been compromised, the turnout was massive. People he had helped as a lawyer and those he had saved as Daredevil gathered spontaneously, blanketing the site with fresh flowers.
Foggy looked at the crowd, feeling a bittersweet sense of pride. Matt's life had meant something; his sacrifices were recognized. Yet, the grief was overwhelming. A good man—a blind lawyer who spent his nights seeking justice—dead, taken by violence.
The medical examiner's report stated that Matt had likely been struck by a high-speed heavy truck, resulting in crushed ribs and internal trauma. But Foggy knew the truth was far darker.
As Foggy stood mourning by the headstone, an elderly man with a blind cane appeared beside him. "Foggy."
Foggy turned to see Stick, Matt's mentor.
"Matt... Matt was murdered," Foggy said, his voice thick with grief.
Stick's face remained a mask of cold stoicism—a sure sign of his simmering rage. "I know. I never imagined that a short trip to Japan would result in... this."
Chaste (Saintly Order) Stronghold, New York.
Foggy and Stick stood before a casket. Inside lay Matt's body. After the public funeral, Stick had sent his men to exhume the remains and bring them here.
Stick, blind like his pupil, stood motionless. "Foggy, was Matt's Billy Club buried with him?"
Foggy looked at the casket, uncomfortable with the desecration, but answered honestly. "Yes. I placed it in there with him."
"Sir, will we really find a clue to his killer inside a stick?"
Stick remained silent for a moment. "There will be clues. Open the casket. Retrieve the club."
Several members of the Chaste stepped forward, prying open the lid and retrieving the weapon. Stick took the club and expertly disassembled the upper portion, revealing a concealed microphone and a recording device. He pressed play.
Foggy watched in shock; he had never realized the "blind cane" Matt carried was packed with such advanced surveillance tech.
Static hissed, followed by Matt's voice.
"Release the prisoner. Hell's Kitchen is not a place for your atrocities."
"You have killed too many. Surrender now and face legal judgment."
Hearing this, both Stick and Foggy understood. Matt had died trying to "save" someone. As the recording continued, other voices emerged.
"Sir, are you certain you wish to obstruct us?"
"Rock Lee, hurry up. The Lord is waiting for us to bring the target back."
"I hope no more blind fools come to block the path."
Hearing his disciple referred to as a "blind fool," Stick gripped his own cane—also a specialized weapon—tightly.
"Gather everything," Stick commanded his men. "I want the exact location where Matt was found, a summary of every event in that vicinity, and the history of that night. I refuse to believe Matt died without leaving a mark."
"Furthermore, I want everything on this 'Rock Lee' and the organization behind him."
One of the Chaste members stepped forward. "Master, while you were away, significant events unfolded in New York. We have already been monitoring the situation. It involves your pupil, but the news of his death reached you before we could brief you."
Stick sensed the gravity in his subordinate's voice. He turned to Foggy. "Foggy, what comes next is not for your ears. Go home."
He added with a chilling finality: "I will avenge Matt."
Foggy nodded, cast one last sorrowful look at his friend, and departed. Once he was gone, Stick turned back to his man. "Report."
The Chaste member opened a file. "One week ago, for unknown reasons, Hayate Shiranui, an Elder of the High Table who controls the American territories, declared war on the Hand."
"That same day, every assassin in America received a contract from the Continental. A total bounty of $200 million was placed on all Hand members."
"Every faction under the High Table struck simultaneously. Every Hand stronghold in the country was hit. Madam Gao's headquarters was attacked personally by three of Shiranui's Adjudicators."
"One of those Adjudicators was the man you mentioned: Rock Lee."
"According to our intel, Matt Murdock intervened to stop the Adjudicator squad from taking Madam Gao into custody. He was killed on the spot."
Stick's legendary composure cracked. He let out a harsh, guttural growl: "Foolish!"
Madam Gao was the Chaste's sworn enemy, and Matt had died trying to "save" the leader of their rivals. It was beyond redemption.
He had warned Matt countless times not to trust his hearing over his instincts. He had told him that what you hear is often a lie. And in the end, his pupil had fallen into the very trap he was warned against.