The next morning, North Brother Island.
Tandy was wrapped in a thick wool blanket, holding a cup of hot cocoa in her hands.
The warmth from her fingertips couldn't dispel the chill seeping from her bones.
Her small face was pale.
The hellish chase from last night was still replaying in her mind like a slow-motion movie.
"He can devour energy."
Tandy's voice still held an uncontrollable tremor.
"All my attacks, my light blades, as soon as they got close to him, it was like... like snowflakes falling into a furnace, disappearing without a trace."
"Peter's webs were the same; they couldn't even touch that person, turning to ash in mid-air."
William listened quietly to Tandy's report.
A series of cold data and risk assessment models automatically generated in his mind.
A predator that could feed on energy... this was more than one magnitude higher in danger than the street criminal initially assessed.
Tandy paused, biting her lip, a hint of frustration in her eyes.
"We didn't win. He wasn't scared away by us; he... he left on his own."
"Like a Beast that had eaten its fill, he lost interest in us and then just sauntered away."
"You did very well, Tandy."
William comforted her.
"You preserved yourself under absolute disadvantage and brought back the most valuable first-hand intelligence. That in itself is a victory."
While comforting her verbally, his hands didn't stop, quickly operating on his terminal.
Far away in Queens, Peter Parker's phone chimed.
A bank transfer notification: [500.00 USD].
Followed by a text message: [Well done, welcome to the 'High Risk, High Reward' club.]
Peter looked at the numbers, so excited he almost rolled off the bed.
Just then, the roar of a speedboat engine approached from outside the office, finally docking at the pier.
A tall, shashuang figure jumped off the speedboat.
Black leather jacket, faded jeans, and a world-weary face that screamed, "Strangers keep out, acquaintances get lost too."
Jessica Jones.
Emil Blonsky, who was in charge of pier security, had been waiting there since she stepped onto Maurice's boat.
Like a silent sculpture.
Their gazes met in the air.
No words, no movements, but the air seemed to solidify.
One was a War Machine born of serum and gamma rays.
The other was a superhuman who had experienced mind control and inhumane torture.
This was a scrutiny between equals.
It was two apex predators assessing each other's threat level.
Finally, Jessica snorted, was the first to look away, walked around Emil, and headed straight for William's office.
"Bang!"
The office door was roughly pushed open.
Jessica strode over to William's desk and slammed a pile of shattered phone remains onto it.
"Got a new phone?"
"Went to Washington a few days ago for a case, ran into a psycho in a red and black bodysuit. He had two swords on his back, and his mouth was like a machine gun, never stopped, giving me a headache. We had a fight, and this is what happened."
Red and black bodysuit, dual swords, motor mouth... William's expression instantly became a bit strange.
A name automatically popped into his mind—Wade Wilson, code name "Deadpool."
Another walking source of trouble, a plot variable completely unpredictable by common sense, had delivered himself.
William's occupational hazard immediately kicked in; he almost subconsciously tagged this new target in his mind:
[Potential Client: Deadpool]
[Risk Level: SSS+ (Inestimable)]
[Claim Probability: 100% (Claim is certain, and in an unusual way)]
[Renewal Rate: Extremely Low (Likely to drive the claims adjuster insane before the policy even takes effect)]
[Insured Value... Extremely High!]
This was the Everest of the insurance industry, the ultimate challenge in risk management!
If he could successfully sell him an insurance policy, his company's business level would ascend to a whole new dimension!
Just as William's thoughts were soaring in a crazy plan of how to design an "Immortality Mental Distress and Vulgar Joke Accidental Insurance"—
"Beep—!!!"
A sharp, ear-piercing red alarm blared without warning from the system terminal in front of him.
That wasn't the pleasant chime of new asset discovery, nor the celebratory sound effect of a successful project.
It was an electronic obituary.
All expression on William's face instantly froze.
A blood-red, constantly flashing warning window popped up on the main screen in his mind.
[WARNING! Client Arc Kid policy terminated!]
[Reason for Termination: Client confirmed deceased.]
[Death Details: Killed by an unknown hostile target through forced energy stripping, individual energy core removed.]
[Death Location: East Harlem Art Park.]
William abruptly stood up from his chair, the movement so sudden that even Jessica in front of him frowned.
Did his broken phone warrant such a big reaction?
Dead?
His client, dead?
This was the first policy terminated due to client demise since the company's inception.
William's mind flashed with the face of that young man, a somewhat reckless, somewhat chuunibyou big boy.
The young hero who wore a cheap, homemade battle suit and called himself "Arc Kid."
William slowly raised his head, looking at Jessica Jones, who had a questioning look due to his sudden reaction.
The businessman's slickness and calculation in his eyes had vanished completely.
Replaced by a knife-like sharpness and bottomless chill.
"Hey, William, are you alright?"
Jessica Jones's voice pulled him out of the abyss of his thoughts.
She tapped the desk with her finger, making a "thump-thump" sound.
"Your expression is like you just found out your Bitcoin went to zero overnight. Or is your company going bankrupt?"
William slowly took a breath, and when he exhaled, the calm on his face returned.
He even offered Jessica an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, Jessica."
"Just received some bad news, a very important overseas investment... um, maliciously shorted by a competitor. A small internal crisis, it'll be handled quickly."
He casually packaged the death of a superhuman as an unremarkable business setback.
Jessica raised an eyebrow; she didn't believe a word of it.
But she also couldn't be bothered to delve deeper.
Her philosophy in life was: as long as trouble doesn't actively seek you out, never be so foolish as to uncover other people's troubles.
-------------------------------
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