Before, she had always worn gloves, so her fingerprints wouldn't be found at the scene. With a few dead gang members, the NYPD's inefficiency meant they wouldn't come looking for her to test for gunpowder residue.
Returning to her apartment, she once again declined the maid's offer of a scrubbing service and stood under the shower, washing away the discomfort of her first kill.
Trees may prefer calm, but the wind won't cease. She hadn't intended to stir up trouble, but trouble had found its way to her.
After showering, she put on her bathrobe and went online, searching the location the tattooed man had provided.
The other party was very cautious; this was a blind spot for cameras. She searched the vicinity but didn't see any obvious signs of entry or exit.
Madame Gao is one of the Five Fingers of the Hand, an elder banished from the sacred land of K'un-Lun. She appears frail and elderly, as if a gust of wind could knock her over, but in fact, she has lived for over four hundred years.
Proficient in using "chi," Madame Gao can send boulders flying with a wave of her hand. Having traveled to every corner of the world for four centuries, she has mastered all martial arts. With the enhancement of "chi," her strength, speed, and reaction time experience a significant increase.
Daisy wasn't keen on provoking such an enemy, but the two sides had already met, and all the subordinates the other party sent were killed. She was highly suspicious.
Moreover, Madame Gao wasn't a police officer; she didn't care about evidence, only results.
Daisy had to strike first. Even if she couldn't kill this old hag, she had to drive her out of New York.
Over the next few days, she deliberately observed the area from a distance with binoculars. The other party was very secretive, but traces would always be left behind.
As expected, this was a "laundry powder" processing factory. Daisy estimated the internal space was very large, with only a small door on the outside, guarded by two burly men with submachine guns. It was heavily fortified.
Every midnight, the small door would open, and a blind man with a satchel would stumble out to deliver goods. This was Madame Gao's business in New York.
Looking at the deliveryman's gouged-out eyes, Daisy's heart filled with anger. 'This old hag deserved to die!'
She didn't act rashly; the Punisher was the one who liked to be a lone hero, not her.
In her previous life, she had always been an ordinary citizen, and in this life, she didn't want to play the hero either.
Daisy decided to seek help from the police.
Although New York had more corrupt cops than she had ever seen, there were still a few good ones.
She didn't use hacking techniques but instead screened through the names on the police department's external website.
George Stacy was the police chief of NYPD, Gwen Stacy's father, and the future Spider-Man's prospective father-in-law.
Originally, he would have been a great help, but unfortunately, he held a high position and was constantly out at meetings. Daisy couldn't meet him through conventional means.
Among the remaining famous upright police officers, she only remembered Big Daddy, but he had already retired.
After much deliberation, she set her sights on Officer Brett Mahoney, a patrolman from Hell's Kitchen. This black man was one of the few police officers who didn't take bribes.
He was Daredevil's friend, a good police officer dedicated to maintaining order in Hell's Kitchen.
Daisy had met him before, as her previous self was also a local, but they weren't familiar.
As Brett walked around the corner, Daisy subtly adjusted her own frequency to appear particularly friendly and trustworthy, then quickly walked over to him.
"Hey, Officer," she said, her expression a little flustered, yet looking as if she had found a savior.
"I recognize you. Is something wrong?" The black officer saw her face and thought for a moment. In their eyes, all East Asians looked similar, and if Daisy hadn't been genuinely pretty, he wouldn't have recognized her at all.
Daisy cautiously glanced around, then lowered her voice and said, "I discovered a processing factory. They're using disabled people to manufacture and sell, and it's on a very large scale..."
Brett initially wanted to scold her for talking nonsense; such a case was not something a young girl could get involved in. But the goodwill generated by Daisy's vibrating frequency made him listen patiently.
After listening, Brett broke out in a sweat. This matter, whether true or false, was very difficult to handle, as he was just a patrol officer.
Although somewhat incredulous, he still spoke frankly: "I'm just a patrol officer. If your information is solid, then you need to report it at the police station. Shall I take you there?"
'If I could report it at the police station, why would I come to you! As soon as I report it, someone will tip them off.' Daisy once again felt sympathy for the black man's intelligence.
But she couldn't directly tell the black patrol officer that the NYPD was rife with corruption.
"Don't you guys talk about evidence? Tonight, you and I can go to the scene to take a look. After all, I don't have a gun, nor do I have any combat ability..." Daisy began to play the damsel in distress.
Brett thought about it and found it reasonable. If he reported it simply now, everything would be fine if the information was true. If it was false, he would be in trouble.
Going to the scene now to verify the truth of the information, no matter how the case was finally decided, his credit would be undeniable.
Even honest people want promotions; who wants to be a patrol officer their whole life!
He scrutinized Daisy, who indeed looked like a delicate young girl, and immediately nodded in agreement.
Late at night, Daisy and the black patrol officer hid in a small building, two hundred meters away from Madame Gao's laundry powder processing factory.
"Is that the factory you mentioned? It doesn't look very big," Brett asked.
Daisy smiled, a sense of intellectual superiority naturally arising. "Look at its height; it's a meter taller than ordinary residences. Don't you think there's a problem? I've calculated the power supply and water consumption in this area. There must be a very large underground space below, conservatively estimated to accommodate over a hundred people."
As the two spoke, the small door opened, and a thin man holding a white cane, tapping out a "tap-tap" sound on the ground, slowly walked out.
In the dim night, the blind man, with a large bag slung over his shoulder, walked falteringly forward.
As Daredevil's friend, Brett had seen blind people before, and he could tell this man was genuinely blind.
"Is this the deliveryman you mentioned? Why...?"
Daisy scoffed, "Why use blind people? Blind people won't be searched, and even if they're caught, they won't face heavy penalties. Moreover, they weren't born blind..."
Brett had witnessed it firsthand, and all doubt vanished from his mind.
If a few blind people were running a massage parlor, it would be impossible to hire two burly men to guard the door. There must be something wrong behind that small door.
Daisy then drew him a diagram: "This blind man will get into a car at the second intersection ahead. Where the car takes him, I don't know."
The clues she provided were few, but they all pointed to one thing: this was a major case, and behind it, there was a whole chain of people involved in manufacturing, processing, and sales who needed to be apprehended.
The black patrol officer looked at her, and Daisy nodded with a strong sense of justice.
"If it's truly as you say, this matter is too big for the precinct to handle," he said hesitantly.
"Do you think the news will leak?" Daisy asked.
The black patrol officer nodded. No one was a fool; corrupt police officers always showed some tells, and fellow officers could see them, but no one bothered to expose the truth