Chapter 742: Fair Competition (Second Change)

"Hi, this is Nelson Murdoch Law Firm. I'm sorry that it's not business hours. If you have something to do, you can do it tomorrow morning..." A somewhat panicked female voice answered the phone, as if she had knocked over a cup of hot tea and knocked off the documents on the table in order to answer the call, and even the sound of sniffling could be heard clearly. The long silence on the phone late at night made Karen Peggy, who answered the phone, a little uneasy. She stammered and asked softly, "Hello..."

"Are you blonde?" An inexplicable question was asked on the other end of the phone

"Yes, yes, may I ask..." I was startled by the voice on the other end of the phone.

"I guess you're blonde." The voice suddenly became cheerful. "Tell Murdoch that I have a document for him."

"document?"

"That's right, it's the document we agreed upon." Salomon forced a thick stack of files into the letterbox of the dilapidated apartment where Nelson Murdoch's law firm was located. "I've attached another dossier, which I'm sure he'll be interested in too."

"Can I ask what it's about? Also, who are you?"

"I'm Salomon Damonette. I'm sending Wilson Fisk's criminal record, which Matt asked me to help collect. It's just a catalog, there are too many real files. The other is the Irish Catholic Church in New York. Rape of young boys, you know, this kind of thing never gets a proper trial. I heard that Matt Murdoch was raised in the Irish Catholic Church, so I think he is interested in this kind of thing too."

The mystic finally punched the mailbox of the apartment impatiently, and then stuffed two thick dossiers into it. Karen Peggy was taken aback by the loud noise from downstairs—she tracked down the nursing home where Wilson Fisk's mother was, and investigated the truth about Fisk's childhood patricide. She didn't tell anyone else about it, and she was afraid that Wilson Fisk would send someone to find her.

"What are you afraid of?"

"No..." Karen Page sniffed, "It's just a cockroach."

“This apartment is so dank, I should have carried bug spray. You can’t imagine what I found in the law office’s letter box.” The apartment was as dilapidated and damp as the rest of Hell’s Kitchen, so it wasn’t surprising that whatever was found.

"Are you downstairs now? Actually, I'm still in the law firm. You can send things up." Karen Page asked. She opened a drawer and took out her small pistol. She knew she was taking a risk by doing this now, but the person on the other end of the phone seemed to know Matt Murdoch very well, so she might as well trust her. "Stop torturing that old mailbox, we've long since stopped using it."

"Damn it! I'm sorry I spoke French."

"Are you British?" After a while, Karen Page heard footsteps in the corridor, and she quietly clenched the gun in her hand.

"You can say that. If your stereotype is correct, I would like a cup of hot tea." Salomon hung up the phone and knocked on the door. The one who opened the door was a blond woman who seemed a little flustered. Facing this kind of person who showed his weakness, the mystic was never stingy with his smile. "Sorry." He smiled. "It took a while to pry open the old mailbox."

"It's okay." Karen Page forced a smile, trying to hide the pistol behind her back. She was taken aback by Salomon's astonishing height at first, but the charm of the young man in front of her made her let her guard down. She suddenly felt that she had made a fuss and began to feel sorry for her attitude. Perhaps it is the relationship between the exquisite evening dress and his rose pin used by witches to declare sovereignty, Salomon looks shiny and out of place with the whole block, completely devoid of the ubiquitous sinful atmosphere of Hell's Kitchen. "No tea, would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Let's forget it, every time I drink coffee, I will feel the condemnation of conscience."

"Are you arguing for the coffee-picking workers of the third world?" She slowly backed up to the desk where she didn't know how many times she had poured her hands, and carefully hid the pistol. She didn't want to be seen illegally carrying a gun.

"That's not true!" Salomon's eyes widened. "I simply think that you don't have good coffee here. Matt has long been too poor to tell. I can assure you that I gave him his most expensive suit!"

It has to be said that Salomon is very good at drawing distance from others, especially through sarcasm and irony. Karen Page was unsurprisingly amused. But soon the scene became awkward. The two strangers really had nothing to talk about, but Peggy wanted to ask more questions.

"How did you know Matthew?" She took the two files tightly wrapped in a thick leather file bag. Out of politeness, she didn't plan to open it for now. In fact, it can also be understood that she is still wary of Salomon, and she doesn't want to lose the opportunity to fight back with a gun when necessary. She knew that she had to maintain this kind of vigilance recently, so she secretly apologized to Salomon in her heart. But even so, she still slowly lowered her guard, and remained indifferent to Salomon's behavior of pulling a chair and sitting down.

He looked like he wanted to tell a long story.

"When I was a teenager, I met him in an alley in Hell's Kitchen. It was Christmas, and some punks surrounded me, trying to get something from me to do drugs." Karen Page raised her eyebrows. She began to suspect that the story of the young man in front of her was similar to her own, and she got to know him only because of Matt's help. "Then I beat up those idiots. Matt just passed by and asked me to throw away the big man and the pistol on the little bastard." Salomon shrugged, not caring about the consequences of the sudden turn of the story. "I did it, I don't need those things anyway."

"Then what about these two files?"

"The dossier about Wilson Fisk is something we have agreed on a long time ago. As for the other... I must ensure fairness."

"What do you mean?" Karen Page was very puzzled, "What is fair?"

Salomon shrugged without answering. Wilson Fisk proved his worth with his life, survived the hunt of two shadow creatures summoned by Salomon, for which Salomon must keep his promise and buy him a little time. Of course he knew that Wilson Fisk had resentment for his behavior of watching beasts like an ancient Roman nobleman and his superb intimidation skills, but he was still the same, he didn't care about the thoughts of a criminal boss. The reason Wilson Fisk is alive until now is entirely because of Vanessa's friendship with Athena, not because of his worth.

"Fairness for the victim." He changed his rhetoric. "You don't know about the sexual assault case in the Catholic Church, do you? This matter has become quite a big issue recently. I think Matt will want to take over such a case and make the law firm famous."

"I think . . . he's a Catholic."

"Would he choose to ignore this kind of case in order not to shame his belief? I don't think he is such a person." The mystic spread his hands. Karen Page shook her head. Matt Murdoch didn't seem like that to her. At present, it seems that this young man is really thinking about Matt, trying to help Nelson Murdoch's law firm to increase business, "I have given his mobile phone number to the victim. As long as he can send a few priests to prison, you can buy a new printer, I promise."

Ask for a ticket!