Catching the movement out of the corner of his eye, Lu Xiaofeng twisted his waist and spun, using the tip of his toe to spring off the ground.
He glided effortlessly right in front of the Purple Man, blocking his path.
“Take your pick,” the Purple Man sneered, stumbling back several paces.
“Catch me, or save her?”
He quickly whipped out a grenade, pulled the pin, and tossed it toward Jessica, barking, “Jessica, catch!”
The brainwashed Jessica Jones showed no emotion.
She woodenly reached out and firmly caught the device, which was ready to detonate at any second.
“Get out of the way!”
Lu Xiaofeng couldn’t afford to keep his eyes on the Purple Man anymore.
His figure blurred, and he delivered a high kick, sending the grenade flying into the distance.
A deafening boom resounded as the grenade exploded.
Taking advantage of the chaos, the Purple Man threw down several smoke bombs, turning to flee into the thick, rising fog.
But a blind man’s cane suddenly thrust out of the darkness.
With perfect, clean precision, a sweeping blow struck him hard on the back of his neck.
“You’re getting pretty good at those cheap shots, Matt.”
Lu Xiaofeng raised an eyebrow as he gently lowered the groggy Jessica to the ground.
*This girl is definitely not light!*
“This guy is extremely dangerous.”
Matt looked down at the limp Purple Man on the ground, his brow furrowed.
Arbitrarily controlling the wills of others—if this kind of power got out of hand, it would be enough to rip apart the very foundation of order in this city.
“Kilgrave!”
With the Purple Man knocked unconscious, Jessica’s eyes gradually cleared as she slowly regained her senses.
She stared down at the man who had dragged her into the abyss.
Clenching her jaw, her knuckles turning white, she walked toward him step by step.
Matt hesitated, shifting his feet slightly, but in the end, he didn’t step forward to stop her.
He had always been against killing to stop crime, and he particularly didn’t want to go down the same path as the Punisher.
“This is her choice.”
Lu Xiaofeng waved a hand at Matt, pulling him back a couple of steps.
Jessica stared down at the demon who had left her with lifelong scars.
Her breathing grew heavier and heavier.
Suddenly, she raised her arm and threw a savage punch downward.
*Thud!*
The ground collapsed beneath her fist, caving in to form a stark, human-shaped crater.
“She has terrifying strength!”
Matt’s eyelid twitched, his mouth pulling into a slight grimace.
He knew all too well that if he had actually tried to stop her just now, he probably wouldn’t have lasted a single exchange.
“Thank you.”
Having personally ended the Purple Man, much of the listless, despondent air about Jessica seemed to dissipate.
She stepped forward, sincerely thanking the two of them.
“I’m Jessica Jones, a private investigator in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“If you ever need anything, just look me up.”
“I’ll give you a fifty percent discount.”
“Hello, Jessica. I’m Matt Murdock.”
Matt’s eyes swept over the alarming crater in the ground.
“What a coincidence,” he said.
“We happen to be dealing with a thorny situation right now, and we might need your help. Have you ever heard of the Hand?”
Jessica frowned slightly and nodded.
“I handled a case once and happened to dig up some dirt on the Hand.”
“They’re a sprawling, deep-rooted international syndicate of assassins. They secretly control nearly half of New York’s drug money laundering channels.”
“They’re our targets this time,” Matt said, his expression grim.
“The Hand’s current leader is called the Blood-Clad Marquis. He’s trying to awaken an ancient, evil entity known as the ‘Blood Demon’.”
“That thing is the progenitor of the vampire race. Once resurrected, I’m afraid New York will be littered with corpses.”
“Are you kidding me?” Jessica raised a hand to rub her temples, looking dazed.
“Vampires? Blood Demon? Resurrection?”
It wasn’t even April Fool’s Day!
“We’re not joking, Miss Jones.”
Lu Xiaofeng took a step forward, his tone tinged with a hint of apology.
“I’m ashamed to admit it, but the Blood-Clad Marquis was originally an outcast of our Mount Shu.”
“He snuck into the Demon Locking Tower and released the remnants of the Blood Demon’s soul. We have to put an end to this.”
***
[Shock points from Jessica Jones +200] This story is hosted at g.com.
Another one down.
Inside his villa in the Upper East Side, Luke Lane rested his chin on one hand, quietly contemplating.
The Marvel universe he had transmigrated into was highly similar to the cinematic universe of Earth-199999, with no mutants or X-Men to act as unpredictable variables.
Therefore, before Iron Man officially made his debut, the first true major antagonist, the Blood Demon, could only be handled by the Defenders.
As for whether he would be caught red-handed by the Ancient One?
Luke wasn’t worried.
The Ancient One was not omniscient or omnipotent.
She was constantly busy guarding dimensional rifts and fending off outer-dimensional evil gods; her energy had long since been drained.
As long as the Earth didn’t blow up, she wouldn’t easily intervene even if World War III broke out.
What’s more, the System itself possessed the function to block high-level observation.
“Hmm, the plan is solid.”
He simulated the process once more in his mind.
After confirming there were no loopholes, he sank his consciousness into his mind to check the Shock points he had harvested this time.
[Shock Points: 53,400.34]
“Still a bit away from a Silver Treasure Chest.”
Luke frowned slightly.
According to his original plan, the Defenders had to suffer a crushing defeat at the hands of the Blood Demon first.
Then, another master from Mount Shu would make a dramatic grand entrance to turn the tide.
This would be the most effective way to explode the audience’s emotions and harvest Shock points.
And the new character had to be at least a C-rank card to hold down the fort.
His current points were still about half of what he needed.
“I need to find another way.”
He tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, shifting his gaze to the television screen in the living room, which was broadcasting the news.
“Stark Industries will soon restart its weapons press conference. Whether this move can restore investor confidence remains to be seen. Stay tuned.”
“Looks like I’ll have to stroke Tony’s feathers a bit,” Luke muttered, narrowing his eyes as he recalled the “Sadako videotape” resting in his System inventory space.
If Tony Stark caught a glimpse of it… what kind of stir would that cause?
*Click.*
*Click.*
In front of Stark Tower, camera flashes went off one after another, illuminating the night as bright as day.
Tony Stark stood on the stage, radiant and full of energy, as he talked endlessly about the various specifications of the Jericho missile.
Behind him, a massive screen simultaneously broadcasted the live-fire testing footage of the missile.
“The Jericho is indeed top-notch.”
Below the stage, a crowd of military-industrial titans nodded in approval.
Among them, General Ross, attending on behalf of the Department of Defense, nodded with satisfaction.
Although he preferred enhanced soldiers like Captain America, in terms of long-range precision strikes, the Jericho’s outstanding performance made it a formidable weapon well worth bulk purchase by the military.
*Whew, Stark Industries’ stock price should finally stabilize.
It might even surge a bit.*
Phil Coulson, whom SHIELD had specially dispatched, quietly let out a sigh of relief.
He had invested most of his savings into Stark Industries stock, hoping to rely on this money to retire comfortably.
Just when everyone thought the weapons press conference was about to wrap up, an accident suddenly occurred.
The massive screen, which had been playing the live-fire test footage, suddenly went pitch black.
A moment later, it lit up again, and a deep, dead, bone-chillingly cold well abruptly appeared.
The video was choppy and blurry, but it carried a spine-chilling sense of dread.
“Jarvis, what’s going on?”
Tony’s brow furrowed.
“Sir, someone has cut the network connection and replaced the broadcast with a local signal source,” Jarvis’s voice chimed in from Tony’s smart glasses.
“Fine, no need to guess. It’s that bastard Joker again.”
Tony clenched his jaw.
He would never swallow the humiliation of almost being forced to fight with a sword.
Sure enough.
As a bloodshot, pale, lifeless eyeball slowly emerged from the depths of the well, the screen flickered again.
“Hi, Tony.”
Luke Lane, disguised as the Joker, appeared in the center of the screen with a wide grin.
“This time, let’s play a more thrilling game.”
“Trapped inside that well is a vengeful spirit named Sadako.”
“Anyone who watches this tape will die in seven days without fail.”
“There are two ways to save yourself. First: find the original master tape and burn it to ashes. Second: pass this video along to someone else.”
With those final words, the screen abruptly went dark.
“The Joker…”
Tony’s eyes swept over the restless crowd below the stage, and he quickly spun around and rushed backstage.
Sure enough, a modified device was connected to the main screen’s signal interface.
A videotape was slotted inside, and a note was weighed down next to it.
“This is a copy of the Sadako videotape.”
“You can play it for someone else to trade for seven more days of your life.”
“Or you can use that genius brain of yours to find the original master tape.”
“The clue about the master tape is hidden on the first person to die on the seventh day.”
“Looking forward to your good news, Joker.”
Tony folded the note, his expression a mix of doubt and skepticism.
A vengeful spirit?
Did such things really exist?
If someone had told him this a few days ago, Tony would have only scoffed.
But his personal experience of traveling through the Shadow Space made him realize: just because science hadn’t stamp-certified certain things yet, didn’t mean they didn’t exist.
“Tony, are you okay?”
Pepper rushed over, her high heels clicking, her eyes filled with worry.
“I’m fine.”
Tony shook his head.
He paused for a moment before carefully slipping the videotape and the note into his inner coat pocket.
“How is the press conference going?”
At the thought of the Joker ruining his press conference yet again, Tony’s temper flared.
“Mr. Stane has already brought the situation under control.”
Pepper pushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, asking hesitantly, “Tony… is what the Joker said true?”
“Pure nonsense.”
Tony shrugged, keeping his tone light as he turned and walked toward the exit.
Amidst a barrage of camera flashes and chaotic questioning, the Stark Industries weapons press conference ended in a hasty wrap-up.
Most people didn’t take the Joker’s words seriously at all.
Given their status and resources, most of the world’s secrets were already laid bare before them.
A real vengeful spirit?
Very few had ever seen one, so naturally, they didn’t believe it was real.
Only Tony, in an unprecedented move, skipped the after-party and drove straight back to his villa.
After a moment of hesitation, he pulled out an old-fashioned tape player and slid the tape inside.
*Bzz…
Bzzzt…*
After a burst of static, the screen lit up again, showing Luke Lane’s grinning face once more.
“Haha, Tony, I was lying to you.”
“This isn’t the original Sadako tape at all. It’s just a fake.”
“So, care to guess which of my previous words were true and which were false?”
“Maybe there is no Sadako at all, and it was just a joke I made up on the fly.”
Tony turned off the machine, his face grim and his chest tightening with frustration.
“Jarvis, pull up the surveillance footage for all of New York. Filter for anyone who matches the Joker’s physical profile.”
“Sir, you issued the same command last time. No matching targets were found.”
“Damn it, I’m really letting that bastard get to my head.”
Tony took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
True or false, he would find out in seven days.
***
Time flew by, and seven days passed in the blink of an eye.
Tony had practically thrown the matter to the back of his mind, treating it as nothing more than another of the Joker’s tedious provocations.
Until…
“Aaaaah!!!”
A sharp, drawn-out female scream shattered the silence of a luxurious bedroom.
The woman standing at the doorway froze, her pupils shrinking.
In the bathtub, a fat man lay facedown, motionless, his hands choking his own throat as thick clumps of pitch-black hair continuously spilled from his mouth.
His entire face was bloated and purple, his eyes rolled back, staring directly at the mirror in front of him.
Trembling like a leaf in the wind, the woman instinctively looked at the mirror.
Reflected in the mirror was a pale girl with prominent green veins.
Her long hair hung down like ink, and the corners of her mouth were curled up in a bizarre grin.
A pair of completely pitch-black eyes stared at her without blinking.
“Aaaaah!!!”
An even more piercing shriek erupted, and the woman rolled her eyes back, fainting on the spot.