After confirming Carson Wolf as his next target, David became busy.
He had been waiting for this revenge for a long time.
But as a high-level agent, Wolf was extremely cautious. David needed a flawless plan.
Meanwhile, Cohen was fulfilling his duties as a priest, hosting a long-overdue community gathering.
There were hymns, prayers, and a children's performance—plus a free lunch.
When Father Emma was around, there was barely enough energy to organize things like this. So Cohen's efforts quickly earned the praise of parishioners and local residents alike.
A group of children ran around the church, laughter filling the air. The atmosphere was warm and peaceful.
Even David came downstairs to join the prayers, which helped ease the restless urgency within him.
By evening, the event had ended. Cohen was cleaning up the lunch trash in the backyard.
Ding-ling-ling...
A soft chime echoed.
He paused. It was the confessional bell—someone had come.
When he entered the small hall, one of the confessionals already had its door closed.
He'd only been a priest for a few days, but he had already heard quite a few confessions. The pressure of Hell's Kitchen was clearly not light.
"Hello, I'm Father Cohen. I'll be hearing your confession today."
A man's voice replied from the other side, tinged with surprise. "You're not Father Emma?"
"Father Emma has gone to the Vatican. For the next few months, I'll be acting as the caretaker of Emma Church."
The man paused for a moment, then sighed.
"Whatever. Doesn't matter who it is."
"My name's Wesley, and my life is an absolute pile of crap.
I've got this fat, tyrant of a boss—always picking on people. Her giant mouth never stops yapping, like a fly buzzing inside your skull nonstop.
And my girlfriend? Yeah, she cheated on me—with my best friend, no less!"
I live in the cheapest apartment possible. Every time the subway passes by, the whole place shakes like it's about to collapse.
And my job? Total garbage. It's like I'm a factory girl from the last century, being squeezed dry by my boss without mercy!"
This experience sounded familiar to Cohen. Wesley... That name rang a bell. Such a pitiful life—could it be...?
"I grew up without a father. And I have some kind of genetic disorder. My heart races, my vision distorts—sometimes I feel like I'm about to die unless I take medicine to hold it off.
God, are you punishing me?"
Now Cohen was certain. This was that Wesley—the one with the unnatural gift, the man who could bend bullets mid-air.
There was a brief silence. Then suddenly, the man on the other side burst out, agitated:
"I want to kill them, Father!
I've thought about it so many times. I want to kill them all!
One by one, I want to chop their heads off—that cheating bitch, that lying bastard, and that fat cow of a boss. They all deserve to die…"
Cohen let him vent for a while, then finally spoke in a low, steady voice:
"Wesley, all of us live under rules.
Laws, morals, corporate policies—this world can be cold and merciless.
But we are living beings, Wesley. We walk under the sun, searching for the light.
Calm your heart.
Believe that good things are on their way. Believe that your fate is about to change..."
"Heh..." Wesley let out a sarcastic laugh.
Cohen didn't mind.
"Wesley, do you believe in God?"
"Huh?"
"God has spoken to me. Your destiny is about to change."
"But I must warn you—be careful with the choices you make!
If you ever feel lost, be sure to return here. God will guide you."
There was a long silence on the other side, as if Wesley was processing his words.
"Father, I…"
"God already knows everything. Don't let grand illusions blind you. Don't live a life of regret.
This door will always be open to you…"
Wesley walked away, still clouded in confusion. Watching his fading silhouette, Cohen couldn't help but smile.
Wesley—the main character from Wanted. So he exists in this world too?
And the Fraternity of Assassins… that place is loaded: bullet-bending techniques, the healing pool, and an entire army of elite killers. If there's a chance, Cohen thought, hell yeah, I'm going in!
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
In the middle of the night, just as Cohen was dozing off, someone banged frantically on his door.
"Get up! Daredevil's getting wrecked!"
What?
Cohen shot out of bed and rushed into David's room.
On the massive screen, likely a drone's perspective, the dark city streets below lit up with chaos. Dozens of muzzle flashes all pointed in one direction.
Several cars had exploded, flames rapidly spreading.
Cohen leaned in, ears twitching—faint explosions echoed from far away.
"What the hell's going on? Where's Daredevil?"
David rubbed his hands nervously. "He got taken down.
He was leaping across rooftops when a sniper took a clean shot. Dropped him instantly.
Then, like clockwork, over a dozen heavily armed gunmen swarmed him!"
He pointed at the screen. "Look at them—covering each other, reloading while moving, tight formations. These guys are like Delta Force level. No joke, total professionals!
Daredevil didn't even get a chance to peek his head out!
And whoever shot him first? Still haven't shown themselves. Definitely still watching him through a scope!"
Shhhht!
Cohen sucked in a cold breath. Is Daredevil really about to meet his early end in this version of the story?
Judging by the scene, he couldn't imagine how Daredevil could turn the tables.
Unless… someone comes to help?
But at this time of night, who could possibly show up?
His curiosity surged like a wave.
Let's see… does Daredevil still have that protagonist's plot armor in this world?
I need to find out!
Just then, the usually silent system suddenly lit up with a chime:
[Ding! Temporary Mission Issued: Punish Evil!
Mission Objective: Punishing evil after the fact is meaningless. Prevent it before it happens—eliminate the team hunting Daredevil.
Time Limit: Before Daredevil dies, or after all the killers are dead.
Reward: Completion-dependent mystery reward pack.]
What the hell!?
Cohen's eyes widened instantly. Damn it—I've become Daredevil's NPC!
He paused to think. Well… considering the reward from the system, guess he had to do it.
He turned sharply to David. "Raise the drone—find that sniper!"
David was stunned. "Wait, what? What are you planning?"
"God spoke to me. Daredevil's a good man. I can't let him die."
"What? Is God some kind of bleeding-heart saint now?"
The words flew out of David's mouth before his brain caught up—and then it did. He glanced nervously at Cohen. Blaspheming God in front of this guy? Would he survive that?
Cohen shot him a look. "The Virgin Mary is Jesus's mom—God's woman. Don't go around slut-shaming her, get it?"
"Ahem!"
David swallowed hard. "Y-yes, understood."
He might act like he wasn't afraid of Cohen, but deep down, he saw the man as a certified killing machine.
Cohen had already racked up dozens of confirmed kills—and who knew how many unconfirmed?
Slipping into his black combat suit and demonic mask, Cohen swiftly made his way toward the battlefield.
But he didn't dive in recklessly—he waited for the feed in his earpiece.
More cars exploded. Daredevil burst into a bloody spray, then rolled into an abandoned building. David's voice finally came through:
"I've got the sniper! He's fifteen degrees south by southeast from your position… Wait—he spotted the drone—damn it, he's shooting at it!"
David's voice rose in panic over the comms. "Damn—fuck!
Knight, the drone's been taken down! He—"
But a few seconds earlier—
The moment David yelled about the drone being attacked, Cohen was already on the move.
He burst into view behind the sniper's right flank. His focus sharpened, enhanced by his multi-vision ability.
Suddenly, all of the gunmen's movements slowed, like time itself had dulled.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Both guns up, muzzles blazing—bullets roared from the barrels.
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