Car Wash

Daisy didn't expect to encounter this incident while she was out for a stroll. "Who treated the heavily injured guy?" After thinking for a moment, she realised that this piece of information was missing from her memory.

Before she could figure out what was going on, the breathing of the injured Frank became weaker and weaker. Sensing his heartbeat, even though she had never studied medicine, Daisy knew that his life was ticking away.

Looking around, there was no divine intervention coming to save Frank.

"It shouldn't be me treating you, right? It's so strange... Well, consider yourself lucky!" She hesitated for a moment, seeing that Frank was about to breathe his last, she quickly reached out to his chest, activating her vibration ability.

With a very gentle touch, she infused a trace of energy into his heart, helping it start beating again.

"Ah—" Frank jolted up suddenly as if by reflex, but his body was too weak. He sat up at a forty-five-degree angle and then fell back down.

Blood was flowing out as if there was no tomorrow.

Daisy was speechless; this guy's reflexes were too fast, and her healing method was a bit agressive…

Watching Frank pass out again, she was at loss.

Calling an ambulance wasn't a great idea, as the people after Frank were quite powerful. It could end up with her not being able to save him and putting herself in danger.

She had to take matters into her own hands.

As a former street author, she had some theoretical knowledge from reading novels. Combining this with her experience from her previous life of battling of wits with her classmates, they formed a perfect combination.

Looking at the faint bloodstains on the ground extending from the park to her car, she quickly drove away from Central Park, turned into a secluded alley, and bought some gauze, alcohol, and needles and thread on the way. Then, she searched on her laptop for basic treatment steps and began an on-site first aid.

Disinfecting with alcohol, removing the bullet with a counter-vibration technique, stitching up the wounds—her speed was comparable to that of a skilled surgeon.

While her speed was impressive, her technique was far from perfect. In the end, she wrapped Frank up like a dumpling with gauze.

"Hey, buddy, feeling better? Do you have a place you want to go? I can take you there." Her method of waking him up was a loud slap.

After about five or six slaps, he finally regained consciousness.

His vacant gaze shifted towards her, realising he didn't recognise her.

"I just happened to pass by. You seem to be in trouble, and I can't bring you home like this. You'd scare my roommate to death... Do you have somewhere you can go? I can take you there," Daisy pointed to herself.

Frank's eyes remained lifeless, devoid of any attachment to life.

Daisy waited for a few seconds but received no response.

She had no choice but to search for a vacant house nearby, one that had likely been unoccupied for a while. She unlocked the door and, supporting the future Punisher, stumbled inside.

The interior was old and worn, and it wasn't clear if the previous owner had moved out or died. Daisy placed Frank on the bed, but he remained silent.

"We're strangers, and I've helped you this far. Take care of the rest yourself." Daisy said as she opened the door to leave. She took a step out, then stopped.

She search through Frank's wallet. He probably didn't have much money since he had spent most of his life in the military. There wasn't even one dollar in his wallet.

"...I'm not rich either. Here's two hundred for you. Don't complain, okay?" Daisy didn't want him to starve and reluctantly pulled two hundred dollars from her meagre savings, stuffing it into his wallet.

The room was filled with dust, and she could tell the previous occupant hadn't been there for some time.

Ordinary people with a cold or fever would need special care, but not Frank. He was toughened from the battlefield, capable of recovering on his own. He was a true soldier, not needing others to worry about him.

Returning to her room, she opened her laptop and started investigating. Online sources only mentioned a shootout in Central Park, with reports of bodies found, but the details of the conflict, the parties involved, and the casualties were all unknown.

Thinking about the tragic fate of the Punisher's family being murdered, Daisy couldn't help but sigh. As she practiced her abilities for a while, she lay down on the bed, her thoughts wandering.

°°°

The next day, Daisy brushed her teeth, washed her face, and held a piece of bread in one hand and a fork in the other, gesturing to the air.

She had no idea how to make money. She had some software ideas that could potentially bring in money, but they all required capital, at least in terms of manpower, and she didn't want to spend six months locked in a room coding. That wasn't her style.

As for other options, she had no clue.

Writing? There was no Harry Potter world here, and even if she copied the original text, it might not be successful, let alone the fact that she couldn't remember it.

Drawing comics about Superman and Wonder Woman from next door? She didn't have the skill for that either.

Leaving her room, she opened the car door, trying overcome the smell of blood. She had forgotten that she should have washed the car. It was a rental car, and now after a night, the smell was unbearable.

The car had to be returned, but not in this condition.

With blood all over the car, what would she say if asked? Daisy scratched her head, thinking about it. Eventually, she decided to go get the car washed.

A proper car wash was out of the question, so she had to go to those car wash places with connections to the underworld.

Searching her memories, she drove to a place called "Veles Taxi."

This place was controlled by the Russian mafia, handling "paint" jobs, modifications, and a range of other services.

Daisy covered her face, her chances of conflict with them were as high as eighty percent, but honestly, she wasn't worried and was even a bit excited.

But when she thought about weapons, she felt a bit troubled. All she had was the self-defence electric shocker device left behind by her previous self. She couldn't just buy a gun to wash her car, right? That would be too ridiculous...

She decided to adapt on the fly and drove her car through the Hell's Kitchen area, taking several turns before finally arriving at the Russian gang's territory.

It was an underground parking lot, and it wasn't too crowded since it was daytime.

Two men were conversing in the middle of the area, and Daisy had seen one of them before. It was James Wesley, who represented Wilson Fisk in the land acquisition deal. He was still dressed in a sharp suit and glasses, an elegant contrast to the burly men scattered around.

He was talking to a thin man, and they were engaged in a heated discussion. Hearing the sound of a car engine, both of them turned their heads in curiosity.

The thin man motioned to one of his men to check it out.

A burly man walked up to the car and rudely asked, "What do you want?"

Daisy was a bit speechless. It was obviously not the right time to come by herself. She could only rasp out : "Car Wash !"