The drone's camera was recording the killer's image through the invisible Luke, so the image was slightly distorted.
Ordinary people might easily ignore this anomaly, but this technical killer clearly liked to get to the bottom of it. Puzzled, he held the phone closer and examined it.
At that moment, a voice rang out behind him. "Sigh, you know too much."
Before the killer could react, there was a crack in the back of his head, and his vision went black.
Then, his phone was taken away, and the drone landed.
A few seconds later, the roof was empty again.
A ball of slightly distorted air leaped across the rooftops of the apartment buildings and landed on the fire escape stairs dozens of meters away.
One of the hitmen happened to open the window of one of the rooms. Just as he was about to come out, he felt a strong gust of wind, and his chest shook. At the same time, he fell back numbly.
But before he could hit the ground, he completely lost consciousness.
The two residents sleeping in the bedroom didn't hear anything. Only the crack in the door proved that someone had been here.
…
Matt was depressed.
He hadn't encountered many good things recently, and there had been a lot of bad luck.
After the ninjas in red disappeared, Kingpin's forces disappeared as well. The Russian gang was completely wiped out, the Irish gang had been purged twice, and all sorts of small and medium-sized gangs were in trouble.
Law and order in Clinton was about to improve significantly, but he was injured again and again.
He had been cut with a scythe, shot, electrocuted, and sedated in the span of just over two months.
His career as a vigilante had suddenly become surprisingly colorful.
Fortunately, it was all worth it.
Although he and Karen had just made some progress when another woman, his ex-girlfriend, forcefully interfered and they seemed to be on the verge of breaking up, his mission was to save Hell's Kitchen and the innocent people who were in danger.
If a girlfriend was really gone, then so be it. Perhaps he shouldn't have a girlfriend in the first place.
Otherwise, why would his ex-girlfriend still be his ex-girlfriend?
The trouble was that not only did his ex-girlfriend torment his new relationship, she also brought about an even bigger problem.
She asked him to help solve the problem, as if she still had feelings for him.
But Matt really didn't want to be entangled with her, but he didn't know how to send this stubborn ex-girlfriend away.
In his distress, he could only rely on going out every night to beat up, ah no, to help the weak to ease his tense nerves, and only then was he able to barely maintain his livelihood.
The Clinton area was too calm, so he came to Harlem, which was further north.
But tonight, Lawyer Ma, who was used to living alone on the rooftop, suddenly realized that there were many strangers around him who had the same hobbies as him.
From the subtle sounds coming from their bodies, it was obvious that they were armed.
It wasn't just one or two people, but a steady stream of people pouring in from all directions.
Matt's hearing was good enough, but his brain wasn't.
Many people could see hundreds or thousands of people at the same time, but they could not remember the faces of hundreds or thousands of people at the same time and record their expressions at the same time.
So just because Matt can hear it doesn't mean he's got surveillance.
Not only that, but there were also sounds of hurried footsteps in many alleys, but there were no cries for help or gunshots.
Could it be that a gang wanted to start a big fight here?
The thought flashed past Matt's mind, but he quickly rejected it.
These people were basically acting on their own. Even if they were very professional, they were only in groups of three to five at most.
Gang fights were either a bunch of weaklings fighting in a chaotic battle, or a small leader giving limited commands, and then the two sides would have sex across the street. They weren't as professional as these people.
Before Lawyer Ma could figure it out, he was in trouble.
His keen senses allowed him to sense danger. He suddenly rolled and swung the short stick in his hand, sending it flying.
Dong!
A hitman who had just raised his rifle and aimed it at Matt's back was stabbed in the chest by the stick, and he couldn't help but take two steps back.
Matt's expression changed.
That wasn't right. The stick hadn't hit a muscle, but something hard.
Before the hitman could react, Matt flicked his wrist, and the stick dragged the steel wire rope behind it around the hitman's upper body and tied him up.
He pulled back hard, and the hitman staggered and fell to the ground.
Matt pounced on him and pressed him down. He asked in a low voice, "Who are you? Why do you want to kill me? "
The hitman didn't answer as he reached for the saber between his legs.
Matt was even faster, and he didn't hesitate to stab him under the armpit with another short stick.
Crack.
The hitman cried out in pain as the short stick stabbed him in the ribs, which weren't plugged in.
A wise man knew better than to fight when the odds were against him. The hitman decisively told him why he was hunting down Night Devil John.
Being subdued, he was extremely depressed. How could he have known that something like this would happen?
The guy in front of him was wearing a crazy dark red coat, and even his face was covered. He wasn't his target at all.
He just wanted to kill this person and occupy the observation spot as soon as possible.
He had always been so straightforward when it came to completing missions, and he didn't mind killing civilians who delayed his work.
After explaining his purpose in a few words, before he could even beg for mercy, a short stick fell heavily on him.
With a crack, the hitman's arms and legs were broken, and his ankles and fingers were crushed.
Matt didn't kill people, but he had no intention of showing mercy to people who killed to make money.
With his ankle broken, he could walk, but he couldn't run or jump fast anymore.
With his fingers broken, he could still eat and drink, but it was impossible for him to steadily kill people with a gun.
It could be said that this hitman could retire tonight.
Tying up the hitman's hands and feet with his clothes, Matt took out the hitman's phone and called the police. After giving them the address, Matt left.
According to the hitman, a lot of his colleagues had come here tonight to hunt down a super hitman called Night Devil.
If these unbridled hitmen started fighting, who knew how many innocent people would be implicated. They had to be stopped no matter what.
…
Luke gently stretched out his hand and placed it in a corner.
A hitman was bowing as he walked over quickly, his gun raised warily.
He seemed to have seen Night Devil run into the alley just now. His suit and beard were too eye-catching, and he didn't seem to have noticed him.
Two meters behind him was his partner, who kept an eye on the back from time to time.
He stuck his head out of the corner, but didn't find anything, so he turned the corner and continued forward.
Unbeknownst to him, a transparent hand was just twenty centimeters above his head.
After he went over, his partner behind him offered his neck to the big hand.
Crack.
His partner's neck bone cracked slightly. Feeling that something wasn't right, the hitman in front wanted to turn around.
Crack.
The back of his head caved in.
Two bodies fell, and were instantly dragged back into the alley.
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