Matt scouted out the correct criminal quickly. He was a reclusive gang leader by the name of Emery. He really felt like nobody in the scope of things to Matt, but at the same time he was worried. He was honestly worried about the idea that he might have killed.

Killing was the line that he could not cross. Matt had a feeling, deep inside of him, that if he crossed that line, he would never come back. It wasn't even as much of a Catholic guilt thing, either, as was it a darkness inside of him. He could not feed that darkness.

"Are you sure you want to come?" Matt asked Frank, looking straight at him. He didn't want Frank to do it if he wasn't prepared.

"I do."

So, Matt dressed and they headed onto the streets. Neither spoke much, but Frank kept close to Matt and he could feel the other's presence close to him. There were two men near the opening of the compound and Matt subdued them pretty quickly. One, he knocked out.

The other, he gripped by the throat and pressed to the wall.

"One of your people died recently," Matt explained. "How did it happen?"

"You should know," the man snarled. "You killed him."

"Tell the man the truth," Frank growled, stepping up and staring him down. "He doesn't kill anyone. What's your man want?"

"Ho-ly shit," emphasized the man, looking from Matt to Frank with big eyes. "The big bad Punisher escaped his little blind lawyer then? Or..." He looked at Matt skeptically.

Matt could sense Frank's panic. His breathing quickened and his heart raced, hard. Frank didn't want his presence to destroy Matt's alter-ego. He put a hand up dismissively. He tried his best to ease the slave's worries. It didn't matter. What mattered was removing the nearest threat.

"Although I'm pleased you haven't killed this one," drawled a voice from behind them, "I'm rather tired of your harassing my man."

A tall man then stepped forward. Matt tried to get a read on him, but he was pretty cold. Not as unnoticeable as a ninja, exactly, but he had definitely learned to regulate his breathing, his heartbeat and the way he sounded when he moved.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Matt asked.

"I want your help," said the man who called himself Emery. "The man you killed was one of my best. He was in contacts with my partners in the drug trade."

Matt wanted to say that he hadn't killed the man, but he stopped the words before they could leave him.

"Why would I help you?" he asked instead. "You know who I am and what I stand for. I don't really know anything about you, but I can assume you're no good."

"You don't know anything about me," Emery said in reply. "That's the key. You've fought men who wanted empires. All I want is my little corner of the world and I am entirely satisfied. I make a good amount of money through other's endeavors and keep my own organization small scale."

"So you're an unambitious criminal," Matt said dryly, staring him down. "That doesn't exactly charm me to you."

"It'd be a shame if your identity was leaked," Emery said with a laugh.

He then grabbed for Frank. Frank instinctively pulled back and dropped to his knees behind Matt.

"You're the lawyer," he said decisively. "I got that awhile ago, but this just confirms it. I don't know how you pull of the blind thing, but that's kind of cool. You're Daredevil and you've got the man they call the Punisher on his knees. You're immensely powerful and you'll help me, or else I will make that fact known. You'll lose him."

Matt paused and tried not to let the man see just how affected he was. Blindness and his mask kept him from showing it in his eyes, at least, but to a trained eye it was obvious when someone was afraid. Yes, he was afraid.

"Alright," he said, conceding slowly. "What do you want from me?"

The man's smile was devilish.

"You will see."