I'm Alexander Pierce's son

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***

Such gifts even made me lose my balance for a second. It turns out I was so busy with all these experiments and developments that I forgot about my birthday. I've never been much of a workaholic, at least not before I got into this carcass. But it's a useful gift, although it's a shame it's so narrowly focused. It would show the system of relationships with all people, not just girls. For someone starting out in the spy business, that would be the most valuable skill. Most shield agents would volunteer to kill Fury for that skill, and the fact that some of them are Hydra agents has nothing to do with it...I guess. You're talking to a colleague and he's got -2000 in attitude. And immediately the thought creeps in that somehow this person's attitude towards allies is not very right. But what's not there is not there. But now I have a list of those I had contact with before this function was opened.

Philippa Zontag - 632.

Jean Grey - 705.

Gemma Simmons - 573.

It's a small list. But that's not surprising. Most of my time since the hospital has been spent working out or finding new ways to make myself stronger. There's already not enough time for anything, and building relationships with that kind of schedule becomes something out of the realm of fantasy. I'm in Marvel, though, and there's plenty of science fiction stuff. And I didn't sign up to be a monk... I think it's time to get some privacy.

I looked around the room and caught my eye at the bar, where a stunning blonde was sitting, chugging her first cocktail. Taking the stool next to her, I ordered myself a whiskey. While the bartender was pouring the order I examined the girl more closely. Blue eyes, hourglass figure and quite frank snow-white suit.

-What would make a girl like that get drunk alone? - I asked, watching as the girl poured herself a new glass of alcohol. She flinched at my question and turned her head sharply to look at me. She seemed to notice me only now and was surprised by her unexpected neighbour. Her gaze grew more and more shocked with each passing moment. I still didn't know what had surprised her so much that she had been staring at my face for more than a minute. I even glanced at one of the reflections in the bottle, just in case I'd partially turned my head and hadn't noticed it. I just didn't have any options that could cause me to attract such intense interest, unless the system?

??? +470.

The impact of the system or my beauty? Although, why am I being stupid, of course it was beauty. The system promised to add points only up to interest, but it's definitely more than that.

-Who are you? -Asked the girl with an amused frown.

-Ryan Pierce. And since we're on a first-name basis, I'd like to know the name of my drinking companion. - I replied, pouring myself a shot.

-Emma Frost. - Replied the girl, watching my reaction. Not to show shock from the person sitting next to me, I could only thanks to pumped pokerface combined with psychology. Keeping a brick face is only half the battle, but to make the brick show interest is already a skill.

-What brings you here, Ryan? - Asked Frost with a new look at me.

-A friend, alcohol and the desire to relax and escape for the evening from a pile of cases and work. - I replied, watching the mixed feelings on the girl's face. I had developed enough psychology to notice the involuntary actions expressing scepticism about my answer.

-Well, one more. - I said, asking for a repeat.

-Do you want to get Pierce's girlfriend drunk? -Said Emma. - Emma asked, looking at me with a haughty look.

-I don't know. - Said I smiled.

...

By the end of the party, Frost was drunk and could barely move. During our drinking together, she kept giving me pensive looks. But after a dozen drinks, our leisurely dialogue turned into a furious monologue about her father. She was swearing at her dad using ten-storey constructions. By the end of her monologue you should have seen the bartender's face, who heard it and was aghast at the possibility to put a man down like that. Even I, who had heard a lot of things, was stunned and was pulling my hands away from the urge to get my phone and start recording this masterclass in insults. If you take out most of the swear words from her tirade, it turns out that her dad was an industrial-scale asshole. He'd ruined her life her entire childhood and nearly endangered her own son because of his views. She's spent the last four years destroying and consuming his brainchild. And not only did the old goat not get mad about it, he also called her his biggest pride and said she had completely fallen for him.

When the lamentations of the girl went on the second round, and the number of cocktails began to reach the third ten I decided to call a taxi and send her home. After picking up the almost fallen body, I was about to head for the lift when I was blocked by a rather muscular blond man with a strange collar around his neck, something I'd seen on some Japanese. He cast concerned glances at Frost.

-I'll take her home. - Said the blond man, pulling his hands towards Emma.

-Stop, who are you anyway? - I asked, stepping back a couple of steps, not letting the guy take Frost out of my arms.

-I'm her brother. - The guy said.

-And why should I believe you? - I asked, giving the blond guy a sceptical look.

-Christian? I thought you'd left already. - A voice came from what both participants of the dialogue thought was an incapacitated body.

-Is Emma your brother? - I asked, helping the girl to her feet.

-Yes. -Are you trying to get him drunk too? - Answered the girl, who was barely thinking.

-No. -I decided to entrust you to him and go home. - I said, to Christian's displeased look. Now her brother thinks I wanted to take advantage of his sister's incapacitated state. As I handed Emma's body to him, I noticed a slight greenish spark running from my hand to her palm. I didn't dare touch the girl again under my brother's already unkind gaze. But I made a note of it and became even more interested in a second meeting with such a bright person. I had her phone number, and it wouldn't be a problem to ask Emma out on a date, given the relationship indicators. That is, if she can remember me tomorrow.

***

Next day, Murdoch's flat.

Walking into Matt's flat, I was glowing with pleasure. It's worth a lot to get my hands on Daredevil. If the system decides not to give me information about relationships with the male part of the earth's population, then I'll deal with trust issues on my own. And as far as I'm concerned, nothing helps to solve them as well as a live polygraph at my side.

Going inside, I already knew what to expect, but I was still surprised by the size of his living space. You can't pay for a place like this if you're an honest lawyer. Which begs the question, how does he support himself? So far, the only options are picking the pockets of criminals and cashing in on the gangs' dues. Quite expensive furniture and extremely poor lighting of the flat immediately caught the eye. Well, he couldn't have saved so much on light otherwise in the past life half of Russians would have lived in such flats. Matt had been sitting at the table for a minute, waiting for me.

-Mr Murdoch, I'm delighted to hear you've agreed to this. I hope you're happy with the contract? Pierce sits down opposite his future right-hand man.

-I'm satisfied with everything, but I don't understand how you're going to give me back my sight. I've been to a lot of clinics and private doctors and they all say the same thing, "It's permanent." - Said Matt, pointing his half-blind eyes at me.

-Yes, your eyes are an extremely serious case. I have access to many powerful healing potions and drinks. But even something that can restore a man's arm in a year won't solve your problem. - Said Raine, taking a sip of juice from a glass on the table.

-Then how? - Murdoch clenched his palms together.

-The main problem with your eyes is the age of the trauma. Such old injuries are extremely difficult to get them to return to their previous state and adjust to their proper function. But I have one remedy that will help you. It's in short supply and you won't be able to get it again, so during the treatment I'll ask you to keep still and bear the pain. - Said Pierce, putting the glass aside and approaching Matt.

-Take off your glasses and get ready, I'm going to apply the treatment to your eyes. I'll literally have to put the ointment on your pupil. - Said Pierce, pulling back Murdoch's eyelids.

As he endured one of the most "pleasurable" sensations of his life, Matt had no idea what was in store for him next. Inside, he struggled with the hope of regaining his sight and the fear of failure. Even with confirmation that Pierce was telling the truth, he couldn't give in to his hopes. A dozen seconds after the ointment was applied, his thoughts faded into the background. His consciousness was consumed by a terrifying pain. His eyes seemed to melt and his whole body demanded that Pierce's medicine be removed from them. But Stick's training and will mixed with persistence kept him from making a mistake. Gritting his teeth and nearly piercing his palms with his fingernails, Murdock endured the pain for what felt like an eternity.

After half an hour of extremely painful recovery, the man on the couch was completely wet with sweat. His face had caked blood around his eyes and his breathing was reminiscent of a completed triathlon athlete. Stretching every crumb of strength left in his body, he slowly opened his eyes...

***

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