Marvel Multiverse Gacha

John snapped Daredevil out of his thoughts. "Since Kilgrave ordered them to kill anyone trying to kill him, the moment we make a move, they will too," he said, his tone sharp.

"You don't plan on killing him, right?" Daredevil asked, his voice steady despite the pain. "We can use this to get evidence on his other crimes."

John shook his head. "No, I don't. And you're right—he's more useful alive. That's why we need to act fast. He's losing blood, and if we waste time, he's dead anyway." His gaze lingered on Kilgrave, sprawled on the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

"Alright," John said, eyeing the two protectors. "You take the girl; I'll handle Punisher."

Daredevil didn't say a word, but John could see it—the slight hesitation in his stance. He was injured, and Jessica was no joke. Still, Daredevil wasn't the type to complain.

John sighed internally, already understanding. "I have to handle Punisher. He's armed, and if we don't neutralize him first, things get messy. You just need to distract the girl long enough for me to take him down."

Daredevil gave a small nod, his resolve clear despite the strain on his body. Without another word, John moved, charging straight toward Punisher, trusting Daredevil to play his part.

He decided to use another item he got from gacha taking the vibranium shield from pouch, its black surface gleaming faintly under the dim light, the crimson Red Hood insignia standing out like a warning

He'd practiced with it for weeks, and while he wasn't Captain America, he'd learned enough to make it work.

Punisher's gun fired with a deafening crack.

Jessica darted in front of him, her sheer size and strength an intimidating wall. She swung at him, but John sidestepped her with practiced ease, using her momentum to slip past.

"Stay down," she growled, turning to grab him, but before she could close the distance, Daredevil moved.

With a swift kick to her side, Daredevil tried to throw her off balance. It barely fazed her, but it was enough to shift her attention.

'Do it fast, Red Hood ' Daredevil thought, gritting his teeth as Jessica turned her fury on him. He dodged her wild swing, each blow coming dangerously close. His injured body was barely keeping up.

John didn't waste the distraction. He charged at Punisher, shield up, closing the gap between them with his enhanced speed.

Punisher fired again, the muzzle flash lighting up his hardened expression.

Another block, another deflection.

Letting the shield take the brunt of the shots as he barreled into Punisher, slamming the shield into his chest with all his strength.

Punisher stumbled back, but his grip on his gun was firm.

John spun, using the edge of the shield to knock it out of his hand, sending it skidding across the floor.

Seeing this frank didn't waste anytime ,pulled a knife from his belt, ready for close combat.

Making the first move.

John didn't waste a second. As Punisher lunged forward with the knife, he raised the shield, intercepting the blade with a metallic clang and forcing Frank to step back.

Without hesitation, John shoved the shield back into his pouch, opting for something more agile. He drew a pair of kunai from his belt, their sharp edges gleaming under the dim light.

Punisher moved first, slashing low with his knife. John sidestepped, countering with a swift strike aimed at Frank's shoulder. Punisher blocked with his forearm, the clash of steel on steel echoing through the Alley.

John spun on his heel, slashing with his second kunai. The move forced Punisher to retreat a step, his stance shifting into a defensive crouch.

John feinted with his left kunai, drawing Punisher's focus, before slashing upward with his right, leaving a thin line of blood on Frank's arm.

He caught a glimpse of Daredevil out of the corner of his eye—struggling, barely holding his own against Jessica.

"Damn it," John muttered. He'd wanted to keep toying with Punisher, using the fight as practice, but Daredevil didn't have much time left.

With a sigh, John shifted gears. It was time to end this.

He reached into his pouch and pulled out a flash bomb, lobbing it toward Punisher.

Pop! The blinding light filled the Alley, forcing Frank to shield his eyes as he stumbled back.

John didn't waste the opportunity. In a blur, he closed the distance, slipping behind Punisher before he could fully recover.

Frank spun, instinctively throwing a punch, but he was slow compared to John.

John sidestepped effortlessly, raising his hand. With a single precise chop to the back of Punisher's neck, Frank crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Sorry, Frank," John muttered, stepping over his body. "But I've got bigger problems right now."

Jessica launched another barrage of attacks—kicks and punches coming fast. Daredevil dodged most of them, but the last punch caught him in the ribs, sending him stumbling back.

He should've easily evaded her. She had power, sure, but she wasn't fast. His injuries, though, were slowing him down, making every movement a struggle.

As she geared up for a powerful kick to finish him off, John darted in from the side.

"Not again," he growled, slamming into Jessica with enough force to send her staggering backward.

Daredevil caught his breath, nodding at John in silent thanks.

"Stay back, I've got her," John said, positioning himself between Jessica and Daredevil, his kunais still in hand.

Jessica squared up, her wild eyes locked on John, brimming with anger and focus. She charged, fists flying with brute force, each punch coming at him like a wrecking ball. She wasn't holding back—not even a little.

But John wasn't about to let her land a hit. He moved like he had all the time in the world, slipping past her punches and leaning just far enough out of reach. Every swing she took hit nothing but air, her frustration bubbling up with every miss.

"Is that all you got?" John said, a smirk creeping across his face.

Jessica growled, switching gears. She pivoted and swung her leg up in a powerful kick aimed right for his ribs.

This time, John reacted instantly, snatching her leg mid-kick. The impact never came.

Her eyes widened in shock.

"Too predictable," John muttered, yanking her leg forward.

She stumbled, her balance gone. Before she could recover, John drove his knee into her stomach. The force sent her staggering back, clutching her midsection as the air rushed out of her lungs.

To finish it, he shoved her hard, sending her crashing into the wall. The impact was solid, and she slid to the ground, groaning but still glaring at him with fierce determination.

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