The Wizard of Winterhold In Marvel Universe

Hell's Kitchen is a magical place.

There are only eight small streets here, but there are many street heroes: Luke Cage, Iron Fist, White Tiger...

And, of course, the symbol of Hell's Kitchen: Daredevil.

Since there are a large number of superheroes, there must be enough soil to breed heroes.

That's right, the crime rate in Hell's Kitchen is extremely high. Even in broad daylight, you may be robbed or shot while walking on the road.

Even though New York is gun-free, whether it is day or night, the sound of gunfire is always here.

About 5,000 people die every year because they cannot be treated.

There are many reasons: the injured often do not have medical insurance, cannot go to regular hospitals, the level of private clinics is different, and the treatment is expensive.

And recently, a small shop on Tenth Avenue suddenly had a boom in business.

From the outside, it looks like a common bookstore. The owner was originally an old white man wearing black-rimmed glasses.

About half a year ago, a young man with a very Scandinavian appearance took down the store, and since then, many sneaky brothers have come and gone here.

In the early morning, a sturdy brother Ni covered his waist, looked around with a vigilant look, and then knocked on the door of the bookstore.

"Xiao Nuo, open the door quickly, your good brother will be unable to hold on!"

"Franklin? Why did you come so early?"

Nolan breathed and opened the door for him: "Did you go out to work again at night?"

"Mommy Fake, my luck is so bad!"

Franklin's rambled complaint:

"Originally, that idiot Rama agreed with me that he was only responsible for driving and supporting the scene, and there would be no gunfights. As a result, I don't know which idiot's gun went off, and a good negotiation turned into a robbery!"

"Then you must have gained a lot? Did you not hurt innocent people?"

Nolan took him to a back cabinet, pulled the mechanism, and the back cabinet slowly rotated 90 degrees, revealing a secret operating room.

"No, they all belong to gangs, and there are no passers-by!"

Franklin, who was already a regular customer, knew his rules very well, and hurriedly lay down on the only operating table in the room: "By the way, do you still have any anesthetics here? Don't stun me with an electric baton!"

"Don't worry, I don't have anything like an electric baton here!"

"that's great--!"

Looking at the fainted Franklin, Nolan showed a friendly smile under his mask:

"Yes, it's just magic."

Use electric shock to paralyze, sterilize tweezers to remove bullets, and heal to restore wounds.

A set of procedures was familiar with ease, and soon, Franklin's original **** wound was restored to its original state.

In order not to be suspected, Nolan stabbed again with a scalpel where he was shot, and then sewed it up with cotton thread to fake the appearance of an operation.

About half an hour later, the unconscious Franklin woke up leisurely:

"Mommy Fak, one day I'll be electrocuted here... cured?"

He touched the wound with a look of surprise.

Nolan handed him the bullets in the tray: "Well, the craftsmanship is not bad, right?"

"Except for the poor stitching technique, everything else is really good!"

The only technical work was ridiculed, Nolan's face darkened, he took off his gloves and said lightly: "Five hundred knives, pay for it."

"No, brother, it's so expensive?"

"Expensive? If you go to a regular hospital, you'll need five thousand dollars to start, okay? This is a gunshot wound! If you don't want to pay, get out of here, and don't come next time."

Franklin smiled embarrassingly, obviously he also knew the market, just subconsciously bargained:

"Anyway, I'm your first customer here, and most of your business is brought in by me! Can't I make a discount?"

"Thank you for saying that, if you hadn't collapsed at the door of my bookstore that day, I wouldn't have bothered to save you. I sell books! Four hundred and fifty dollars, it can't be any less."

"Selling books in Hell's Kitchen..." Franklin muttered, counted twenty-two Jackson (twenty dollars) for him, and walked out the door.

The moment he went out, a middle-aged man with sunglasses passed him and walked into the store.

Xiao Fu couldn't help but look back: "Damn it, even blind people come to buy books? Is the bookstore business really that good?"

"Huh? When did Brother Ni start reading?" The man in sunglasses who walked into the store muttered to himself.

Nolan just closed the secret door of the operating room, and he couldn't help but be stunned when he walked to the front desk:

"Matt Murdoch?"

The man in sunglasses was also stunned:

"you know me?"

Then he smiled bitterly: "I see, it must be old Mordo who told you? After all, there are not many people who can be your customers in Hell's Kitchen."

Old Mordo is the old white man who originally ran this bookstore.

Nolan was noncommittal: "Do you need anything?"

"One copy of each of today's newspapers, as well as the latest version of the New York State Penal Code Amendment."

"The newsstand is not open today, huh?"

"No, buying books and newspapers is just a matter of stopping by."

Nolan got up to look for the book, and Matt Murdoch followed behind him: "I've never seen you around?"

"It's impossible for you to know everyone here, especially if you're a..."

"Blind, yes." Matt Murdoch smiled: "But you are special."

"Thank you for the compliment. Now, your book."

Matt took the book, but didn't leave: "I always feel that ~www.NovelMTL.com~ people who often deal with books are never too bad."

"That's not necessarily true. There are not many scumbags."

"It's interesting, what about you?"

"I?"

Nolan smiled: "I don't care about good or bad, I only care about the bottom line."

"Nice answer."

"Maybe it's also the correct answer?"

Matt was stunned for a moment. This conversation aroused a fond memory in him.

The faint smell of blood, the existence of a secret door, and the black people who often come and go here, it looks very much like some kind of place. But in view of Nolan's answer, he decided to observe for a while.

"Goodbye."

After sending Matt away, Nolan sighed.

The famous Daredevil is not easy to deal with.

In case he suspects that he is a gang den or other illegal place, maybe he will change his uniform and come over at night to crack down on pornography.

"What an uneasy day!"

He murmured, locked the door of the bookstore, and put up a 'closed business' sign.

In Hell's Kitchen, there are a lot of guns, alcohol, people, and everything. There are only a few people who read books.

During the day, he basically has no business, and only opens the door at night.

Went to the street and took out the car keys, Ford F150, a classic pickup truck.

"Lao Mei is good at this. You can drive around in a pickup truck on the street."

The driver's license is fake, and the fake license dealer contacted by the license number in the toilet in Chinatown.

As long as nothing major happens, the naked eye can't tell the truth from the fake.

"Who is playing the song "Dongfeng Breaking" with the pipa~~~

Humming a little tune, the exhaust pipe shook out a thick plume of smoke, and the sapphire blue pickup drove away swiftly.

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