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While Nolan was tearing through Hand ninjas like a force of nature…
On the other side of the battlefield, Iron Fist was still trying to process what was happening.
One second, he was being swarmed by assassins, and the next, they were gone.
Then, before he could react, a figure appeared in front of him.
No words. Just fists.
"Who the hell are you?!" Danny Rand shouted, blocking a sudden blow.
He stared at his attacker a man cloaked in shadows, electricity dancing across his skin, crackling in blue arcs.
"Electro?" Danny asked instinctively.
"How do you know?" Max snapped.
If there was one thing he hated, it was being lumped in with second-rate nicknames.
Danny narrowed his eyes, misreading the situation. "You working with the Hand?"
He raised his fists, channeling chi through his limbs his body instantly hardening with mystical force.
"Nope," Max replied. "Boss wants you alive. That's all I need to know."
The two clashed.
Though Danny's combat technique was leagues beyond Max's, the difference was elemental. Literally.
Every time Danny got close—lightning surged through Max's body, forcing him back. The chi couldn't block the current, and the paralysis slowed him down just enough to put him on the defensive.
Meanwhile, across the rooftop, Nolan was finishing what could only be described as a massacre.
Though "massacre" suggested something gruesome or vengeful.
Nolan's work was clinical like a runaway train smashing through a wall of glass.
Stick stood still, sensing each ninja's life snuffed out in rapid succession.
Saintfire, one of the Chaste's agents, trembled as he watched the slaughter unfold.
"H-He's not human…"
Even with all their training, all their tests and rituals… it didn't matter.
Blood rained from above like crimson petals and broken bodies hit the ground in a symphony of meat and bone.
In under a minute, every Hand ninja in the area was dead.
Only Nolan remained hovering in midair like an executioner from the heavens.
"Anyone else wants to try?" Nolan asked, holding Elektra up by the throat with one hand and smiling faintly.
At his current level, every punch carried the force of a speeding train. Add his flight momentum, and it was more than enough to reduce any human body to a pulp.
Even with Elektra empowering them with the Beast's aura, they were still human. Just slightly tougher.
In the end, they died like everyone else.
The only threats Nolan considered worthwhile were the Five Fingers of the Hand and the Beast itself, should it ever manifest.
But the Beast was likely projecting its power here, not fully present.
If it wanted to appear physically, it would have to answer to Kamar-Taj first.
Elektra stared into Nolan's eyes, her pitch-black irises filled with disbelief.
She'd been set up by Viper.
Without hesitation, Nolan jabbed a small, needle-like device into her neck.
"Sleep it off," he muttered. "It'll all be over when you wake up."
Though she wielded the Beast's power, Elektra herself wasn't that strong.
A short burst of electricity surged down her spine, and she collapsed, unconscious.
Nolan slung her over his shoulder like a sack and turned to face Stick and the remaining members of The Chaste.
Though blind, Stick could sense everything with precision. As Nolan stared, the rest of the Chaste tensed.
"Stick, huh?" Nolan said. "Let me guess… who told you I was here? Bullseye? Kingpin?"
There was no doubt in Nolan's mind Stick had looked straight at him the moment he arrived.
And that reaction… emotional, angry… it wasn't just tactical.
Stick knew.
He knew Nolan was indirectly responsible for Matt Murdock's death.
Despite their differences, Matt had been Stick's greatest student. His pride.
And now he was gone.
"You're not gonna talk? Fine."
Nolan shrugged. It didn't matter if Kingpin leaked it. All that mattered was what came next.
He didn't care about the Chaste's morals. Or their grief.
He had no interest in slaughter only in what he could take.
Power. Secrets. Weapons.
"I'm very interested in your secret techniques," Nolan said, grinning. "So let's make a deal. Hand over the Chaste's mystic training… and I'll let you live."
It was a generous offer, in his eyes.
He'd already gained a lot tonight—might as well grab the full set.
"No chance," growled Stone, stepping forward. "You killed Matt and now you want our legacy?"
Stick's voice was calm but grief-stricken. "You're a monster."
Another agent trembled with rage, gripping his sword. He lunged, only to be stopped by Stick's staff.
"I don't like repeating myself," Nolan warned. "Either hand over the knowledge… or join Elektra in my lab."
His voice dropped in temperature.
He couldn't understand why people resisted even when they knew they had lost.
FWOOOOOSH!
A sharp gust whipped through the alley.
"LOOK OUT!" Stick shouted.
Too late.
BOOM!
Stone was slammed into the pavement with a sickening crunch.
A boot landed hard on his face, crushing him down as Nolan stepped onto his skull pressing with increasing force.
Stone struggled, veins bulging, trying to break free but Nolan's foot felt like a mountain pinning him down.
The concrete cracked beneath him.
"Stick," Nolan said coldly, "answer the question."
He'd been impressed by Stick's heightened senses.
The techniques the Chaste used to develop them could help Nolan expand beyond his current range maybe even reach Daredevil's legendary citywide perception.
"Still not talking?" Nolan said. "You think I won't kill you? How about I kill one of you right now just to make a point?"
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