The car glided into a quiet upscale neighborhood, winding its way up a gentle slope before coming to a stop in front of a modern standalone villa.
Once the driver departed, only Green, Laura, and the suitcase remained.
Laura was back in her favorite sunglasses, this time with bright yellow frames, clutching a potted cactus tightly in her arms.
She had stared at it through a florist’s window for a long time during their post-dinner stroll, so Green had casually bought it for her.
Green pushed open the low courtyard gate and stepped onto the smooth flagstone walkway.
On either side, automatic sprinklers were at work, sending fine silver arcs of mist through the night air.
The small wildflowers scattered across the lawn unfurled under the refreshing droplets.
Laura’s eyes were drawn to a corner of the yard, where an old wooden swing hung beneath a nearly leafless tree, swaying gently in the cool breeze.
Clutching the cactus, she hurried to catch up with Green.
The key turned in the lock with a crisp click.
The lights clicked on, bathing the interior in a soft, warm white glow.
Sensing the master’s return, the smart home system activated section by section.
Ambient LED strips illuminated and air circulators hummed to life.
Green sat down on the entryway step, kicked off his shoes, and walked inside.
“This place…
is home?” Laura stepped inside, instinctively sniffing the air.
There was no smell of disinfectant or stale blood—only the faint, pine-scented fragrance of cleaning fluid.
She looked around.
A broad linen sofa, wireless game controllers left casually on a low table, and a massive projection screen on the opposite wall.
A bookcase crammed with manga stood in the corner, and the walls bore wild, supernatural-themed graffiti.
It was simple, yet possessed a comforting warmth that allowed one’s nerves to finally relax.
“One of them,” Green’s voice drifted over from the kitchen.
He opened the fridge, grabbed a can of soda, and tossed it back over his shoulder to her.
Laura caught it cleanly.
“Bathroom’s on the left down the hall.
Open bedrooms on the right—take your pick.
The one at the far end is mine.
Don’t go in without my permission.” *Crack.* Green popped the tab on his soda, orange-flavored bubbles fizzing loudly as they rushed to the rim.
He tipped his head back and took a heavy swig.
The icy, carbonated liquid rushed down his throat, drawing out a satisfied sigh followed by a quiet burp.
“From now on, whatever I eat, you eat.” “Which ones are my shoes?” She gestured with her head toward the entryway shoe rack, looking at Green.
“Take whichever ones you like.
Don’t ask me—I’m not your nanny.” With that, Green dragged the rolling suitcase toward the bathroom.
Laura squatted down in front of a row of slippers, entering a state of serious indecision.
Oh, right.
Remembering something, she stood up, shut the wide-open front door, and engaged the deadbolt.
When she turned back around to look at this space so steeped in Green’s presence, a strange, solid sense of security quietly welled up in her chest.
Unconsciously, her eyes curved into crescent moons.
Wheels rolling, Green dragged the suitcase into the bathroom and unzipped it.
He pulled out the unconscious Richard first, bound his hands and feet with waterproof duct tape, and stuffed him into the secret room behind the bathroom partition wall.
When it came to Vanessa, he grabbed her ankles to drag her out, but his movements suddenly froze.
“Hmm?” He squeezed her ankle joint, pressing his thumb down along the line of the tendon.
Near the heel, the texture felt distinctly wrong.
Green narrowed his eyes and angled her foot toward the light.
A silver needle as thin as a hair protruded slightly beneath the skin.
The tip was hollow, slowly oozing a colorless droplet of liquid.
When it dropped onto the tile, it evaporated almost instantly without a trace.
Green carefully collected a small sample, turned, and walked over to the live-subject zone inside the hidden room, where several lab mice were kept for testing.
He fed the liquid to one of them.
In less than a second— Before the mouse could even make a squeak, its oral mucosa necrotized instantly.
Fine black veins spread like cobwebs from its mouth across its face, and after two sharp twitches, it went entirely rigid.
“Oho?” Green raised an eyebrow, turning back to look at the unconscious Vanessa on the floor.
“Looks like our seemingly gentle, elegant female painter is keeping secrets too.” Intrigued, he returned to Vanessa’s side, stripped off her clothes, and folded them neatly nearby.
He then left the bathroom, retrieved several large bags of ice from the kitchen, dumped them all into the bathtub, and carried her in.
As the ice water submerged her body, the low temperature made the hidden mechanisms beneath her skin stand out even more clearly.
Green pressed and examined her skin inch by inch.
Before long, he uncovered thirty-four hidden micro-poison traps.
Nearly all of them were located in the intimate places most likely to trigger a man’s basic desires: the back of the neck, behind the ears, below the collarbone, across the chest, the inner thighs…
“A bloody venomous viper,” Green murmured in appreciation, a sudden trace of respect for Kingpin dawning in his chest.
To sleep in the same bed as a woman like this for years without dying took real talent.
Squatting by the rim of the bathtub, he watched Vanessa’s pale face in the icy water, his lips curling into a playful smirk.
…
“Nngh…” Vanessa woke from the bone-chilling cold, opening her eyes to find herself lying in a bathtub packed with ice water.
Her gaze instantly sharpened.
Her first instinct wasn’t to scream, but to reach for the inside of her wrist—where an auto-firing needle mechanism should have been concealed.
It was empty?!
“Fuck!” She clutched the back of her aching, ice-numbed head and sat up abruptly in the water.
The next moment, she saw the man sitting on a small stool by the bathroom doorway, casually flipping through a comic book.
“Awake already?
I thought I’d have time to finish this comic before you came around.” Green closed the book.
“Seems your tolerance to anesthetics is higher than I anticipated.” “Who…
who are you?
Where’s my son…?” Vanessa’s face instantly collapsed into terror, tears springing to her eyes on command.
“Alright, alright, cut the act.
I can do that too.” Vanessa’s expression froze.
The pitiful, vulnerable facade shattered instantly, exposing the cold, lethal malice beneath.
Yet a second later, her demeanor shifted again—her gaze turning sultry, seductive, and dangerous.
She stepped her long legs out of the bathtub, leaning her body against the rim like a serpent.
She parted her legs with practiced nonchalance, laying her bare curves fully bare before Green.
“So…
how do you plan to ‘deal’ with me?” Her voice was soft and purring, trailing off with a playful lilt.
“Anything goes.” “Your real identity.
Your true objective.” Green remained utterly unfazed.
“Spill it, and maybe we can work together.” “Is that a threat?” Vanessa stood up, crossing her arms over her chest to half-cover herself as water trickled down her body, forming a puddle around her feet.
Splashing through the water, she took measured steps toward Green.
“No,” Green said, raising his pistol and aiming it straight at her with an earnest expression.
“It’s an invitation.” “…” Vanessa froze in her tracks.
She looked into Green’s eyes, completely unable to tell for the first time whether this man would actually pull the trigger.
“Kingpin really picked the wrong person to cross,” she sighed.
“So you do recognize me.” “You were already on our field agent candidate list,” Vanessa turned around, swaying her hips as she strolled back toward the bathtub, completely unbothered by her naked back being on full display.
“We just hadn’t found the right opportunity to make contact.” “Oho~ Agents,” Green drawled.
“Code name 007?” “No,” Vanessa turned her head, a hint of near-fanatical darkness gleaming in her eyes.
“I belong to the Third Reich.” “Hydra, huh?
So you’re a sleeper agent buried deep in Hell’s Kitchen.” “Scared?” *Thwip!
Thwip!* Two muffled thuds echoed as tranquilizer darts struck Vanessa squarely in the chest and shoulder.
Her body jolted backward, falling back into the bathtub with her legs dangling over the edge.
“Hydra’s tentacles really do reach everywhere,” Green remarked, stowing his gun with the novelty of having accidentally unlocked a secret side quest.
Perhaps another “snake” would come knocking soon.
Hmm—should he join, or join, or join?
If he actually became a double agent, it sounded pretty thrilling.
Green stood up, bound Vanessa securely with specialized restraints, and dragged her back into the secret room.
Future business aside, current business took priority.
He still had an account to settle with Kingpin.
He strapped her into a metal interrogation chair in the center of the hidden room.
Just as he was about to turn and leave, he paused.
Glancing back at this venomous Sleeping Beauty, he thought it over, grabbed a syringe of high-potency sedative from the wall-mounted medical cabinet, and jabbed a few extra doses into her hip.
With her high tolerance, best not to take chances on her waking up and ruining things.
He turned and pulled the heavy soundproof door shut behind him.
Stepping out of the bathroom, the sight before him made his steps pause.
Laura had dragged over a high stool from somewhere.
Standing on tiptoe atop it, she was practically hanging off the corner snack cabinet, rummaging around inside with one hand.
Is she…
unlocking her home-demolition tendencies?
Green suddenly felt that his safe house might not be so safe after all.
“What are you doing?” Laura jumped in fright, nearly slipping off the stool.
She turned her head slowly, cheeks stuffed so full of stolen cheese balls that her face bulged.
Seeing Green standing at the doorway with his arms crossed and an unfriendly scowl on his face, she gave a sheepish, flattering smile, cheese dust spilling from the corners of her mouth.
“Get down here.
Now!” Laura flinched again and scrambled down off the stool, making sure to tightly clutch her bag of “loot” in her arms.
Green strode over, snatched the cheese balls, grabbed her by the ear, and dragged her toward the bathroom without another word.
Warm water cascaded from the showerhead.
Tattered clothes were peeled off and tossed aside.
Using a knife, Green neatly cut away her hair—matted into clumps by blood and grime—trimming it into a clean, sharp short style that made her look like a scrawny tomboy at first glance.
Laura stood under the water while Green squeezed out body wash, working up a lather over her hair and body.
Holding her arms high with her eyes squeezed shut, she actually enjoyed it with cooperative obedience.
*Ding-dong—* The doorbell rang.
Green, whose fingers were currently shaping the foam on Laura’s head into dog ears, paused and turned his head toward the sound.
He stood up from the small stool, flicking the suds and water droplets off his hands.
“Wash the rest yourself.” “Oohhh—” Laura drawled, giving a somewhat reluctant reply.
Green grabbed a dry towel off the rack to wipe his hands, then shuffled toward the front door in his slippers.
The wall-mounted monitor showed a man in a suit standing outside.
He wore dark red sunglasses and leaned on a blind cane, yet his posture was remarkably erect.
He tilted his head slightly, seemingly sensing Green’s gaze from behind the door, and his lips curved upward.
“Oh?” Green raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued.
He reached out and opened the door.
Hearing the door open, the man outside faced forward.
“Hello, Mr.
Green.
I’m Matt Murdock.
Or, if you prefer, you can call me Daredevil.”