Iron-tier Target...
The system explain it to him crystal clear: that person must be guilty!
Just moments ago, a group of guys strolled past the alley, laughing loudly, and Jason immediately sensed the system's notification that they were all Iron-tier Target. Based on the intricate tattoos snaking up their arms and the suspicious bulges around their waists, these men were almost certainly gang members.
However, when these potential targets passed by him, Jason didn't even dare raise his head!
The intimidating power of American street gangs was simply too great!
Considering his current predicament—broke and nursing broken ribs—it would be utterly pointless for him to attempt taking down any prey. With his luck, he'd end up being the one killed!
Hissss!
"Would I be the first person to travel through time and space with a godly system, only to starve to death on the streets?" he wondered bitterly.
Pure tragedy.
As if sensing his foul mood, the weather, which had been perfectly fine just moments earlier, suddenly shifted dramatically.
Heavy raindrops began falling from the darkening sky, pelting his face mercilessly.
His troubles doubled instantly.
Enduring the pain in his side, Jason rummaged through a nearby dumpster, salvaging a few discarded wooden boards to construct a makeshift shelter against the alley wall.
As night fell completely, raindrops hammered down relentlessly, and thunder roared through the heavens.
To pass the time, he occasionally grind a large nail he'd found in the trash against the concrete, secretly hoping it might somehow evolve into a fearsome weapon through the system.
One by one, shops along the street closed their doors, and pedestrians vanished from the sidewalks.
Except for the rhythmic sound of rain and occasional thunder, everything else seemed to have disappeared into the night.
Tuk, Tuk, Tuk.
Suddenly, the distinctive sound of high heels striking pavement cut through the rainfall.
The footsteps were hurried, frantic, panicked, and terrified...
"Aaah!"
A short, sharp scream pierced the night, followed by the muffled sounds of a struggle.
"Keep quiet!"
A man's aggressive voice growled through the darkness.
Then Jason saw it—a tall figure restraining a woman in his arms, one hand clamped over her mouth as he dragged her deeper into the alley.
On this rainy night, the entire passage was pitch black, with only the faint, distant glow of a street lamp at the entrance providing any illumination.
Jason remained hidden in the shadows, crouched behind a dumpster deep within the alley.
As expected, the system immediately identified the man as a Iron-tier Target.
The assailant moved with practiced efficiency. He shoved the woman against the brick wall, gripped her throat, and threatened in a low, menacing voice: "Make one sound, and I'll kill you!"
"Hand over all your money! Now!"
A brilliant flash of lightning suddenly streaked across the sky, momentarily illuminating everything in stark white light.
In that instant, Jason caught a glimpse of the victim—a soaked blonde woman, her rain-drenched clothes clinging to her trembling body, revealing her graceful silhouette.
Her delicate face was covered with a mixture of rainwater and tears, her mouth opening and closing in silent sobs as she struggled to breathe.
The man's hands began roughly searching her body, eventually locating her wallet. He extracted a handful of bills and contemptuously tossed the empty wallet to the ground.
Jason clutched his sharpened nail tightly, silently shifting his body position.
He was patiently waiting for an opportunity—a perfect moment to strike with lethal precision.
His compromised physical condition wouldn't allow him to engage in a prolonged fight with the tall, muscular assailant.
Even after securing the money, the man was clearly unsatisfied with his haul.
He kept the woman pinned with his left hand firmly over her mouth while his other hand began wandering inappropriately across her body...
The woman fought back desperately, but her resistance only seemed to excite the attacker further. Jason could hear the man's breathing growing heavier, more animalistic.
This is it. Just a little closer... just a little more...
Jason's muscles tensed, his eyes unnaturally bright with anticipation!
Just as he was about to lunge forward—
"STOP!"
An authoritative shout from above completely disrupted his rhythm, nearly causing him to tumble face-first onto the pavement!
A figure wearing a distinctive horned mask and deep red tactical gear descended from above, delivering a powerful kick that sent the attacker sprawling to the ground.
Daredevil!
Jason instantly recognized the vigilante superhero before him.
The attacker fell hard, instinctively reaching toward his waistband. Daredevil swiftly stepped forward and rendered him unconscious with a single, precisely delivered punch.
A revolver clattered to the wet ground.
When the blonde woman realized she'd been rescued, a delayed scream finally escaped her throat.
Perhaps too traumatized by the night's events, she didn't even acknowledge her savior. Instead, she covered her face with trembling hands and bolted from the alley, disappearing into the rainy night.
Suddenly, only Jason and Daredevil remained in the alley. The vigilante turned slowly, facing directly toward Jason's hiding spot.
Although Jason knew the man before him was technically blind—and despite the encompassing darkness—he still hastily concealed the nail behind his back, his expression freezing into something profoundly unnatural.
Did he notice my intentions just now?
If Daredevil somehow knew Jason had been planning to kill, who could predict how Hell's Kitchen's moral guardian might respond?
Daredevil appeared about to speak when he suddenly paused, tilting his head as if intensely focusing on some distant sound.
Within seconds, his expression changed. He withdrew his signature billy clubs from his utility belt, connected them with a hidden cable, and swung them upward. With remarkable agility, he launched himself skyward, moving between buildings with the grace typically associated with Spider-Man.
At this moment, Jason finally snapped out of his stupor and rushed toward the street. Watching Daredevil traversing the rooftops, he craned his neck and shouted desperately: "Hey, hero! Could you spare some cash?"
No response.
In the darkness, that crimson silhouette seemed to move even faster at the sound of his voice.
"BOOM!"
A blinding flash of lightning illuminated the sky.
Jason turned back toward the alley.
The attacker's unconscious form still lay there, vulnerable and unmoving.
Jason wiped the rain from his face, spread his arms wide, and whispered dramatically to the heavens:
"God! Higher powers! Universe! Whoever's watching!
If you exist, if you possess any shred of mercy, then come down and stop me now!
But if you don't... if you truly don't care... then from this night forward, my hands shall be forever stained with blood—
I will become the Punisher!"
The rainfall suddenly intensified.
The thunder grew deafening.
In the secluded alley, Jason gripped the large iron nail, poised to plunge it repeatedly into the unconscious man's neck, mentally rehearsing the necessary movements.
Not being able to complete the deed cleanly was one problem.
The other issue: once the nail penetrated the man's flesh, death wouldn't be instantaneous. The victim would inevitably make noise while struggling, potentially attracting attention.
The ground would become saturated with blood, and even the torrential downpour couldn't wash away all evidence immediately.
The same concern applied to using the pistol—too noisy, too messy. He needed the perfect solution...
While deliberating, Jason noticed rainwater flowing deeper into the alley. Following its path, he discovered a sewer access point covered by a heavy manhole.
After struggling to lift the cover, another flash of lightning revealed a narrow, deep passage below.
Water rushed violently through the channel, swirling toward some unknown destination.
If I lower him headfirst, Jason calculated, he won't be able to turn over, climb out, or breathe. A guaranteed death!
God, are you helping me again?
Jason began dragging the unconscious man forward, when he quickly realized how genuinely heavy an adult male's body actually was.
The pain in his chest suddenly intensified, and his empty stomach growled protestingly.
Only then did he remember he hadn't eaten in over twenty-four hours.
"BOOM!"
A lightning bolt exploded frighteningly close to his position. His ears rang painfully, and momentary disorientation washed over him.
Is this all just a dream?
Maybe I never died, never been iseaki'd. Maybe I'm just unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere?
"SPLASH"—the distinct sound of a heavy object plunging into water.
The resulting spray hit Jason's face, jolting him back to grim reality.
If this were merely a dream, it certainly wouldn't hurt this much.
Amid the overwhelming sound of torrential rain, a faint cry might have echoed from the depths below... or perhaps it was merely his imagination.
He quickly close the manhole cover before the next lightning flash could illuminate the scene.
Methodically, he dismantled his shelter and returned the planks to the dumpster.
Eliminate all evidence.
Then, with over three hundred dollars and a revolver salvaged from the attacker, Jason left the alley behind.
After taking just a few steps, the system notification appeared:
[Task updated. Available for review.]
He hesitated momentarily but didn't look back.
In this, his first murder, both Daredevil and divine guidance had unwittingly assisted him. There was absolutely no reason for regret!