Chapter 89: AKA Michelle Jane - part 1

Click, click.

Snapping blocks together.

"Hey, Peter."

"Hm?"

Ned called out to me, and I glanced over.
In his hands was a cluster of gray blocks.
He was in the middle of building the Millennium Falcon.

"So, how’s it going lately?"

"What do you mean… going how?"

His vague question made me tilt my head, though my hands didn’t stop.
I kept working while following the black-and-white instruction sheet copied from a printer.

This was Ned’s house… or more specifically, Ned’s room.
He lived with his grandmother—his parents didn’t live in New York.

"Obviously I mean Michelle… or maybe Michelle and someone else?"

"…Well, yeah. It’s… okay, I guess."

Click—the block snapped in.
The fit was bad, so I had to press harder.

"‘Okay, I guess’ huh… You realize we only have three months until graduation, right?"

I frowned at Ned’s words… and let out a sigh.

"…I know."

"Nope, you don’t know."

Ned flatly shot down my words.
His hands stopped assembling the blocks.

I opened my mouth.

"Then what do you expect me to do?"

"Obviously… just confess already."

"Ugh… guh…"

At his words, I stared down at my hands.
A loud sigh followed.

"Michelle’s definitely into you too. No question."

"…Nah, I don’t think so."

"Really? Try looking at yourself objectively."

At that, I thought back on recent days.
Last week, we went shopping together.
Four days ago, we had dinner together.
Yesterday, we studied at the library.
Today, we had lunch together… though with four people.

…Well, yeah. If it’s about time spent with her outside of school, I might actually be the one who’s with her the most.

But still.

"…If she rejected me, I wouldn’t survive."

Exactly. That’s the thing.

Even Harry, after getting shot down, was depressed for a month straight.
So much that even Gwen couldn’t go cheer him up.
He’s gotten a little better lately, but it’s still like he’s forcing himself—it hurts to watch.

Me?
No progress at all.
I still hadn’t found the courage to take the first step.

"You egg Harry on to confess, but you’re not gonna do it yourself?"

"…Yeah, I know, it’s pretty cowardly."

It was originally his idea to confess anyway… he just kept making excuses, so I gave him a push.
It wasn’t like I was even planning to confess in the first place.
I wasn’t even standing on that starting line.

"You can fight giant lizards, rhinos, even aliens… but you don’t have the guts to confess?"

"…Yeah, pretty much."

My pathetic reply made Ned frown.

"Prom’s next week, right?"

"Huh?"

Prom… the promenade.
The senior year dance party.

"You asked Michelle already, didn’t you?"

"…Yeah."

Prom… the guy asks the girl out and escorts her.
Couples go together, or people who like each other but aren’t dating yet.
That’s another side of it.

I’m sure Michelle doesn’t know that… that’s why she agreed.

"Then confess to her there. Yeah, do it then."

"Ah, but… I mean, it’s supposed to be a fun party. If I confess and ruin her night, she might──"

"And then what? You never confess until graduation’s over… and Michelle ends up marrying some random guy you don’t even know."

"…………"

I went silent at Ned’s blunt words.

"Maybe she’ll invite you to the wedding, as a friend representative."

"…That’d be… kinda awful."

"Then act. You sneak off to do hero stuff all the time, but when it comes to girls, you’re way too timid. Doesn’t make sense."

Ned set the Millennium Falcon down on a cushion.

I hesitated… then nodded, reluctantly agreeing with his words.
Twisted my head… opened my mouth, closed it again.

And sighed.

"Fine… I’ll confess. I will."

"Good, that’s the spirit."

"…Definitely… probably… if I can… maybe."

"Aren’t you already losing confidence by the second?"

Ned chuckled wryly.

But come on… I’m scared.

This wouldn’t even be my first confession—I had one already.
One that ended only in failure and regret.

Back in middle school, I confessed to the girl next door… a redhead.
She told me I was ‘gross.’
We used to play together, but after that, we drifted apart… now I don’t even want to remember her name.

Because of that… if Michelle were to hate me… No, Michelle wouldn’t hate me, I think. But still…

If her feelings for me are just ‘friendship’… then things would never go back to how they were.

I opened the bottle of water standing on the floor and took a drink.

"…Phew."

It wasn’t cold—just room temperature—but it still cleared my head.

I knew that after graduation, I wouldn’t be with Michelle anymore.
That’s why, to hold onto her heart… I wanted to confess.

I had to start planning right now.

Ned watched me, a wry smile on his face.

"Well, as long as you actually confess, that’s fine."

"…Why do you care so much, Ned?"

Ned reached for a plastic toy bow and arrow lying nearby.

"Because I’m Cupid, obviously."

"Did Gwen put you up to this?"

"…You figured it out?"

Ned slumped, not even trying to deny it.

"She said it’d be more effective coming from another guy."

"Ah, I see."

"She’s scary, I couldn’t say no."

Ned buried his head in his hands and sighed.
…Come to think of it.

"How about Gwen? Do you know if she’s going with anyone to prom?"

"Ah…? Well, she’s going with me, technically."

"With you, Ned!?"

When did that happen!?
I thought they were just childhood friends!!

"Ah—no, you got it wrong. Don’t misunderstand… She said she wanted to go to prom but didn’t have a partner, so she told me to escort her, that’s all."

"But what if that’s just Gwen covering it up, and actually—"

I pictured Gwen’s face in my mind.
We both broke into awkward laughs.

"…Nah, no way."

"Yeah, definitely not."

I really think she meant exactly what she said.
She’s straightforward about everything—no roundabout games with her.

And that’s not an insult.
It’s just the truth about her. She’s ridiculously upfront… that’s just who she is.

"…Michelle."

I whispered her name softly, setting the finished block piece down on the floor.

Against the wall sat the Death Star… a massive build the three of us—me, Ned, and Michelle—spent days putting together.
She just happened to be at her part-time job today, so it was just the two of us building now.

Whenever a new movie came out, the three of us went to see it together.
We traded comics.
It’s hard to believe it hasn’t even been a year since we met—because we already feel so close.

…I wonder what she’s doing right now.
Her part-time job… she said something about cleaning, but…

"Peter, hand me the parts once you finish them. I’ll put them together."

I heard Ned’s voice.

"Ah, sorry. Here—this is the side piece."

Flustered, I passed him the parts I’d left on the floor and glanced at the instructions again.

My relationship with her… our friendship… was approaching a turning point.
What shape it would take, I couldn’t even imagine.

But still… if she could keep smiling, then… I thought that would be enough.

---

Hell’s Kitchen.

Inside a run-down building, there’s a room with a doorplate that reads 『Alias Detective Agency』.

Inside that room… I, Jessica Jones, was there.

On the desk were neatly arranged files. A list of suicides from the past few months.

"...It’s increasing."

This is my habit.

Ever since that time… that time when my dignity was trampled… I’ve never once skipped this check.

The number of suicides in New York City… especially around this area, has nearly doubled compared to last month.

But the suicide cases are already marked as solved. They’re processed as incidents with no foul play.

No one could possibly have committed the crime. The fingerprints belonged only to the victims. Locked rooms, or surveillance footage showing them alone.

Yet every family says the same thing: "No way, him?" "Impossible, her?" Unthinkable, they say.

Sudden suicides… as if the devil himself had whispered to them.

"Without a doubt… he’s back in this city."

A truly nauseating villain. A piece of scum worth spitting on.

The man’s name is Zebediah Kilgrave. Also known as Purple Man. He’s called that because he likes wearing purple… what a sick joke. If he likes it that much, he should just dye his skin purple too.

Crack—a sound made me quickly pull my hand away from the desk. Without realizing, I had been gripping it too hard.

I opened a drawer and pulled out an envelope with photos inside.

There was Kilgrave… and me in the picture. I was smiling—no, being forced to smile.

It made me so sick… I wanted to rip it apart. But this is a rare photo of him. Nearly ten years old now, but still necessary to track him.

Back then, I was working as a hero under the name "Jewel." One day, I got a call about a restaurant where something strange was happening… I rushed over, and that’s when I met him.

Not knowing about Kilgrave’s ability, I was brainwashed… and then—

A wave of nausea hit me.

Anyway, I was forced into a mock relationship with him… and ended up fighting Daredevil, who was trying to stop his crimes. Then… I even fought the Avengers.

It was Jean Grey, a mutant, who freed me from the brainwashing. Kilgrave escaped right after… and hasn’t been seen since.

Carrying anger with nowhere to go… and weighed down by irreversible mistakes… I quit being a hero.

Even so, wanting to still help people in need, I now work as a detective.

And finally… at last, I found him.

"If he’s come back to this city—"

I glared at Kilgrave’s image in the photo.

"I won’t let him escape. I’ll beat him down and drag him in."

I put the photo back into the envelope. Threw on my black jacket and wrapped a red scarf around my neck.

Most of the suicides on the list had happened in Manhattan. He must be there.

That’s all I know so far… where he’s hiding, what he’s doing, why he’s come back… none of that’s clear.

But I’m a "detective." Gathering the missing pieces on foot… that’s my job.

I will uncover his hiding place. And I will make sure no one else goes through what I did… I will catch him.

I picked up my phone, which had been charging on the desk… and for a moment, the faces of my husband, my lawyer friend, and a martial artist ally came to mind.

But the more people involved, the more likely we’ll be noticed.

It’s not too late to dig into what his true objective is first.

I left the office. Flipped the doorplate over… and changed it to 『CLOSED』.

---

The shotgun spat sparks.

Moments later, a hole opened in the wall—and an old woman with her face blown apart collapsed to the ground.

I placed the shotgun atop her corpse.
Like flowers laid for the dead.

Today, I was supposed to hang out with Peter and Ned. The three of us had made plans… but work came up.

Ever since the Madripoor operation, I’ve apparently been under suspicion of betraying the organization. The only way to claw back trust is to carry out jobs flawlessly, one by one.

Or so Tinkerer said.

…I still don’t understand how he knows so much about the inner workings of the Unseelie Court—an organization I myself barely grasp. He shouldn’t be part of it.

And yet, he worries for me, giving me advice. I accept it at face value.

I don’t ask clumsy questions.

Really, ours is a relationship riddled with secrets.
I know nothing about him—not his real face, not even his name.

So why… does he trust me this much?

…No. Best not to dwell on it.
He and I are business partners.
That’s enough. Or at least, it should be.

I shoved the shotgun-wielding old woman aside.

She was the boss of a drug syndicate.
She’d been selling synthetic drugs behind the back of Wilson Fisk—the Kingpin—and eventually provoked his wrath.

Originally it had been a joint venture, but Fisk’s mistress hated drugs, so he pulled out. He told her to stop making them. She refused. And so—

『This is how it ends.』

Her face was obliterated by a shotgun blast, beyond recognition. She’d been stronger than most ordinary humans—apparently a martial artist, employing some strange style I didn’t recognize.

She even used something called “ki,” or whatever. For some reason, the powerful in this world often have combat skills of their own.

Because it’s a comic book… maybe?

Well, whatever. She wasn’t my match.

『A fool…』

Her cause of death: underestimating Fisk, and underestimating me, the assassin he sent.

If it had been a run-of-the-mill killer, she might have survived.

I looked back down the path I came.

Men in black suits lay scattered as corpses. Shotguns in their hands—the same kind I’d used earlier.
The one I carried was taken from one of them, after I killed him.

Yes—she was the boss of the Chinese Mafia. She herself was strong, her syndicate large. That power fed into arrogance.

I turned back the way I came.

Corpses.

Corpses, corpses, corpses, corpses, corpses.

The gray concrete walls were painted with red blood. My own suit was spattered with it as well.
…I’d have to wash it again once I returned to the underground safehouse.

What a hassle.

Step by step, I moved forward… listening closely.

Somewhere, someone tried to muffle their breathing.

I drew a knife from my waist and advanced toward the sound.

『So, there are still some left.』

Fisk’s orders were to kill everyone connected to this syndicate. No survivors.

I pressed on, slowly but without hesitation… until I found a large double iron door.

I placed my hand on it—clunk. Locked from the inside.

From within, came frightened cries.

Women. Children.

…Disgusting. But I won’t stop.

I hooked my fingers into the metal and forced it open.
The iron groaned.

Their screams rose in tandem with the sound.

I ripped the door apart, brute force tearing it open. Furniture stacked against it scattered across the floor. Women and children huddled in the corner.

High-pitched screams filled the room.

『…Quiet.』

I slammed my fist against the door, the noise silencing them.

Like prey before a beast, they shut their mouths in fear of provoking me.

『Anyone involved in producing drugs, step forward.』

I wasn’t planning to kill them all.

Fisk’s orders were to “eliminate everyone complicit in the organization.” Meaning, if they hadn’t taken part in the drug production, they could live.

…Or so I thought.

The children exchanged glances. The kind of glances only those with guilty knowledge would share.

So that’s it. This syndicate used children to make synthetic drugs. Orphans? Sold into this? I didn’t know.

But one thing was clear—there were more children here than adults.

The adults held the children back and stepped forward instead.

One middle-aged woman took another step ahead.

"I was the one making them. The children had nothing to do with it."

A lie. Undoubtedly a lie.

In her trembling eyes, I saw only fear that I’d see through her.

The adults were shielding the children.

Why? Weren’t these kids just disposable labor?
Or… are the adults the same as them?

I don’t know. And maybe it’s better not to.

I raised my knife.

『From here on… I’ll be taking your heads.』

"…Yes. But the children…"

『You’re worried about what happens after you die?』

"Please… the children… they’re not involved…"

My hand gripping the knife wavered.
…I must prove my loyalty to the organization.
Sentiment has no place here.

…For the sake of what I refuse to throw away, these people must die.

Even if they were forced, they dirtied their hands with synthetic drugs. That cannot be excused.

It’s fine. I can kill them.

I lied to myself, forcing acceptance into my own heart.

『…Very well. I swear I won’t kill the children.』

"Truly?"

『But you—I’ll kill without fail. Resist, and the children die too.』

…This is a necessary pact for efficiency.
If they resist, things become troublesome. Using the children as hostages makes it easier.

Yes. Sparing the children is nothing but efficiency. Not sentiment.
So it isn’t betrayal of the organization.

I repeated that excuse as I pressed the knife to the woman’s neck.

Her skin split shallowly, a thin line of blood welling up.

"Thank you…"

…Gratitude?
Why would someone about to die thank the one killing them—

Suddenly, something flew toward me.

I caught it, examined it.

A scrap of wood. Rough, crudely carved in the shape of a person—too shabby to even call a toy.

The one who threw it was the child being shielded.

"Let go of my mom…!"

…Mom? This woman?

"A-ah! Forgive me, please!"

The woman dropped to her knees, pressing her forehead hard against the ground. So hard it split and bled.

"This child doesn’t understand! Please, mercy… spare us!"

…So that’s it. These children are adopted.
Orphans taken in, raised as their own, only to be used as labor for drug production.

A vile syndicate, feeding on children.

Just like… my…

『…………』

A sick feeling twisted inside me.
But the one I should vent this anger on is already dead.

What remained were pitiful mothers and children with no blood ties.

I looked at the wood scrap in my hand.

It bore the figure of a warrior with a sword.
Maybe it had no name. But to the children, it must have been something like a hero.

Truly sickening.

I clenched the piece of wood hard… and crushed it.
Splinters scattered across the floor.

Enough. Let’s finish this.

I tightened my grip on the knife and stepped forward.

『Rest assured. I won’t kill the children.』

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

The mother cried out her gratitude, her voice hoarse, face soaked with tears and blood.

"Mom!"

The child’s voice I ignored.
Another adult hastily grabbed the child’s arm to hold them back.

I pressed the knife to the woman’s throat again, pushing harder, harder—

Crash! The sound of shattering glass rang out.

I drew the knife back from her neck and turned toward the sound.

Beyond the broken metal door… a woman stood.

Black hair. Black jacket. Black pants. A red scarf around her neck.

Her mouth opened.

"You're disgusting."

『Jessica Jones.』

The woman—Jessica—looked at me with eyes full of absolute contempt.

---

I glared at the red mask in front of me… Redcap.

This bastard was about to kill an unarmed woman right in front of her child.

I didn’t know what had led up to this… but to kill someone who wasn’t even resisting—and in front of a kid, no less—there’s no way I could allow that.

…Coming to this factory had been a coincidence.

I had been wandering through Manhattan’s Chinatown when my superhuman hearing picked up the sound of gunfire, and I literally flew over.

Peeking inside to see what was happening, I was shocked to find corpses lined up.

Breaking in to investigate, I discovered… white powder.

I immediately knew it was the synthetic drug that was secretly circulating in Manhattan.

And this place was its production factory.

While moving in secret, I stumbled upon the scene of an execution about to take place.

At first, I only watched from outside. I thought it was dangerous to rush in without knowing the situation… but that thought vanished in an instant.

"Ara, you remembered me?"

『…I have a good memory.』

Redcap kept her knife at the ready as she took a step closer to me.

…During the Sinister Six incident, I had lost to her.

Now, her gear was different from back then… no doubt improved.

My chances of winning… were slim to none.

Taking a deep breath, I kicked off the ground hard.

Combining it with my flight ability, I shot forward like a bullet… and locked her arms down.

But after only moving her a few meters, I came to a stop.

She wouldn’t budge an inch.

Still holding Redcap down, I looked back.

"Run!"

I shouted with all my strength, and the terrified woman and child took off running.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them escape… then turned back to Redcap.

Her knife was still raised… but she hadn’t swung it down at me.

Why—

Suddenly, pain shot through my stomach.

"Ugh!"

I had been kicked.

Her knee.

Covered in metal armor, she drove it upward into me.

Reeling, I faltered, and she grabbed my arm.

In the next instant, she tore me free and slammed me into the concrete wall.

"Ga—hah!"

The concrete shattered, rebar bursting out.

My breathing went ragged, air knocked from my lungs.

Struggling to steady my ragged breaths, I stepped back a few paces.

An obvious opening… no way Redcap would ignore that—

…But she didn’t?

She didn’t thrust her knife. She didn’t swing her fists.

She didn’t chase after the people who had fled, nor did she run from me.

She just stood there.

"…What are you playing at?"

『From the start, I had no intention of killing you. It’s not part of my mission.』

"…I see. Real dedicated worker, aren’t you?"

I gave a thin smile, masking the pain, and steadied my breathing.

Whether I was going to flee or fight, I needed to regain my stance.

『What do you say, Jessica Jones. If you let me kill those women… you can do as you please with the child. Not such a bad deal, is it?』

"It’s bad. Beyond bad. It’s the absolute worst."

『…Those women sided with the organization that preys on children. They destroyed countless lives with synthetic drugs… even then, you object?』

"A stupid question… Deciding who gets to live or die isn’t up to you. That’s for the law to decide. Turns out you’re dumber than I thought."

The pain was gone.

My breathing was steady again.

And I now understood—we could never see eye to eye.

『I see… You’re right.』

Redcap didn’t argue. She simply nodded quietly.

Creepy… She used to have a lot more to say.

Something was wrong.

She was nothing like the person I had met before.

I couldn’t sense any killing intent in her attacks… yet she was supposed to be here to kill.

…Even as we spoke, the woman and child were getting farther away.

Buying time—that was the best I could do.

Then, after a pause, Redcap’s mechanical voice spoke again.

『Ideology doesn’t matter… I don’t need your approval… but those women must die.』

"And why’s that?"

『For me.』

Suddenly, she lunged a step closer.

Her knife swept horizontally in a single slash.

I barely reacted in time to dodge… and the concrete wall behind me where I had been standing split open with a huge gash.

A chill ran through me.

If that had connected, I would have been seriously injured.

『Do your best to keep dodging.』

Her voice almost sounded encouraging.

Was she mocking me? The thought crossed my mind—and in that instant—

The tip of her knife was already rushing straight toward me.

"Tch."

I tilted my head aside, narrowly dodging the thrust. From there, I swung a high kick straight at Redcap’s head—

Direct hit.

『…Pointless.』

But she didn’t flinch in the slightest. Was her suit upgraded since last time?

The brief instant I wasted pondering that… was an opening.

And it was fatal.

Her knife-wielding hand came for my shoulder—

"Ugh!?"

It pierced me.

Agonizing pain… but not enough to stop me from moving. I kicked off the ground, taking flight and pulling back to put distance between us.

I yanked the knife free… blood spilling from the wound.

I immediately pressed down hard with my red scarf, staunching the bleeding.

Redcap watched me in silence.

『If you don’t want to take more injuries… you should leave.』

"Now that’s a tempting offer… almost tempting enough to take you up on it."

My shoulder wouldn’t lift.

…Iron Fist, Danny Rand, wasn’t here.

No one was around to heal me… and I didn’t have any regenerative abilities of my own.

I couldn’t keep fighting.

I’d be better off running… and Redcap probably wouldn’t give chase.

But.

"I may have already quit being a hero…"

『…So what?』

"Even so, if it means protecting someone, I’ve still got the resolve to throw myself on the line."

『…I see.』

Her red mask made her expression unreadable.

Even so… I thought Redcap looked almost envious.

…What the hell happened to her?

Had something changed her outlook?

But we weren’t close enough for me to ask.

I glared at her, ready to spring the moment she made a move to pursue the others.

But Redcap didn’t move.

She only looked up at me in silence.

After a moment—

『…Enough.』

"Huh?"

Redcap turned on her heel, moving away from me.

She took a few steps back, then walked in the opposite direction of the fleeing survivors.

"What are you playing at…?"

『Just weighing the risks.』

That couldn’t be true.

If she had gone all out and killed me, then immediately chased them down, she would have been able to finish them easily.

So then, this was…

"Do you actually not want to kill them?"

『…Is that how it looks to you?』

"That’s how it looks to me."

Redcap glanced back.

Her blank, mannequin-like crimson mask stared at me.

『Then your eyes must be rotten.』

"My eyes are just fine. I’m a detective, after all."

At that, she averted her gaze… and walked away.

I exhaled deeply and collapsed to the ground.

Weighed down by exhaustion, I pulled out my phone and called the police.

---

The people who had fled were gathered outside the factory.
It was too dangerous to just let them scatter, so they were put into a police transport vehicle.

Manufacturing narcotics was a crime, but… it was still better than dying.
And if they had only done it under threat, their sentences would likely be reduced.

"……Thank you, truly."

One of the adult women spoke to me, and I gave her a small nod.

"It's fine. When people are in trouble, we help each other out."

"But I have nothing I can give you in return…"

Her face clouded with guilt, and I couldn’t help but let out a wry smile.

"……Then when you’re out, bring me some good food. You’ll find me at the detective agency."

"Detective…?"

"That’s right. I’m a detective."

With tears streaming down her face, she gripped my hand… and then was led away.
The children were also loaded into the same transport vehicle, and the doors locked.

"Miss Jessica, splendid work there."

"Eh, well… thanks."

I nodded as an acquaintance of mine on the force expressed his gratitude.
Not that I was doing this to be thanked… besides, I’m a detective.
This kind of hero work isn’t really my line, and I’d rather retire from it.

But even when I tell myself that, if trouble arises, I can’t help but throw myself into it… Maybe it’s a bad habit I really need to fix.

With a sigh, I scratched the back of my head.

"Ah, also, I’m sorry about this, but… the Chief asked me to get in touch with you. He’d like a word—"

"Ahh… I don’t really have the right to refuse, do I?"

"My apologies… will you hear him out?"

"……Fine."

Letting out another sigh, I slid into the passenger seat of the police vehicle.
The officer handed me the handheld terminal he was carrying.

"It’s already connected."

"Eh? Wait a sec—"

But he walked away toward the transport truck, leaving me alone.
I suppose he doesn’t plan on listening in.

"……What is this?"

I pressed the terminal to my ear.
All I heard was static, like noise.
No sign of anyone speaking.

Frowning, I tried calling out.

"Hello…? Can you hear me?"

『……Ahh, Jessica.』

Through the heavy distortion, I made out a man’s voice.

"So, I heard you wanted to talk?"

『I wanted to speak with you, Jessica.』

I frowned deeply.
That overly familiar tone rubbed me the wrong way.
I was certain I had no idea who this was.

"Well, I see. And what exactly is this about? If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep this brief."

『About? Nothing in particular. I simply wanted to talk to you.』

"……Would you mind if I ended the call here?"

Since when had the New York police chief turned into some sleazy harasser?
That’s what I was thinking when—

『Cold, aren’t you… when it’s been so long since we last spoke.』

"……I shouldn’t have any acquaintance with you."

An unease surged through me.
My heart started pounding.

『Ahh… so you haven’t realized yet? Naughty girl.』

"……Who the hell are you?"

The moment I demanded an answer—

A gunshot rang out.

I whipped around instantly.
The sound had come from the transport vehicle.

Still clutching the terminal, I dashed toward it.

Screams, more gunfire.

"What is…"

Breath ragged, I flung open the vehicle door.

Inside—
The woman from before, and the children, shot dead.

And holding a standard-issue shotgun—my police acquaintance.
Smoke drifted from its barrel.

Just now, right here, he had gunned them down… had he?
It was unbelievable.

"What the hell are you doing! Do you even realize—"

Then I saw his face.

Not the slightest hint of guilt. A faint smile on his lips.
As if he couldn’t comprehend what he’d just done… tilting his head slowly as he looked at me.

"Smile for me, Jessica."

And then, he pressed the shotgun barrel beneath his own jaw—

"Stop—!"

He pulled the trigger.

The blast thundered, and red, gray, and white matter sprayed everywhere.
The inside of the transport vehicle was drenched in crimson.

"Ah… ugh—"

The nausea hit me, and I stumbled back a few steps, turning my gaze away.
The other officers hadn’t even grasped what just happened, panicking in confusion.

『Jessica… ahh, Jessica…』

A voice came from the handheld terminal. I raised it to my ear.
The noise still warped it, but I instantly knew who it was.

"Kilgrave…!"

『So you finally remembered me? Took you long enough. I had asked him to “call me” once he found you. Of course, he wasn’t the only one. There are many others. Thanks to that, I was able to track you down. Why so devoted, you ask? Because I love you. And you love me too, don’t you? Isn’t it romantic, that we’ve been searching for one another? Why don’t you come back to me? If you don’t want to see any more of my “gifts,” then let’s have a little talk. What do you say, Jessica? Jessica Jones? What do you say?』

I nearly flung the device from my hands.

Revulsion crawled up my spine.
He was taking innocent lives hostage again, just to claim me.

Normal people didn’t do things like that.
Killing for a goal—despicable, yes, but at least it could be understood.
But him… he saw people as nothing.
Just toys to serve his desires.

He hadn’t changed at all in ten years!

I bit down the urge to spit curses and forced myself to stay calm.

"Yes, that’s right. I’d love to meet… Where should I come?"

『Ahh! Jessica, so you will meet me? But alas, I’m at work right now… once I’ve finished, then. Sorry to keep you waiting.』

Work…?
This arrogant, antisocial monster claiming he had “work”?

…Whatever it was, it couldn’t be anything good.
His power was to control people’s minds.
Somewhere, someone was already under his sway.
Unknowingly being made to do evil.

"……I will find you."

『Such a passionate love call—coming from you, no less. How delightful. Then, until we meet again. I’ll make the proper arrangements to escort you. Ah yes, and I’ll have some fine wine waiting for y—』

I smashed the terminal against the ground.

"Haa… haa… bastard!"

No doubt the number he called from was stolen from another thrall.
No trail would lead back to him.

That cunning, that cowardice… That was why he’d never been caught.

But I understood one thing now.

His objective was me.
And the “work” he mentioned.

"Whatever you’re planning—"

I looked at the woman who had been smiling only moments ago, now dead and bleeding.
At the young officer I knew—so full of justice—now collapsed lifelessly.
At the child who had been shielded, struck fatally, gone in an instant.

"I swear, I’ll stop you!"

I ground my heel into the shattered device on the pavement.

---

"Fwaaah…"

Ned let out a long yawn.
A glance at the clock—it was already 8 p.m.
A good hour to be winding down.

"Not getting enough sleep? You sure you’re resting properly?"

"Hm? Peter, I get ten hours every night, man… but lately, I dunno, I’ve just been tired."

"Hmm… well, the weather’s warming up. Maybe ditch the blanket and switch to a lighter sheet?"

"Yeah… maybe I should."

At my suggestion, Ned gave me a tired chuckle and nodded.