Jack Lockley hung up the phone and slammed it onto the passenger seat.
The taxi was filled with the scent of air freshener and an unmasked rage.
Twenty-four hours.
For a businessman like William Rodriguez, who just sat in an office and moved his fingers, it might be a blink of an eye.
But for him, for Jack Lockley, it was too long.
Long enough for that damned Shadow Knight to kill five, ten more people.
Long enough for all the Police in New York to see Moon Knight as a serial killer.
He couldn't wait.
High-tech?
Data analysis?
Bullshit.
In the Shadows of New York, the most useful things were always fists and an intelligence network.
Jack started the modified taxi, and the engine roared, merging into the traffic of Manhattan.
He was going to Hell's Kitchen.
He knew that place well.
There, there was another 'vigilante' similar to them.
A guy who truly understood the rules.
Daredevil.
Matt Murdock.
Although that blind lawyer always spoke of law and justice, Jack knew that at night, they were the same kind of people.
Cleaning up the city's trash in their own way.
Daredevil couldn't have been unaware of the Shadow Knight's appearance.
Jack needed his help.
Or rather, he needed his intelligence.
The taxi drove past the brightly lit Times Square and turned into the Hell's Kitchen district, always shrouded in Shadow and neon.
The air instantly changed.
More oppressive, more dangerous.
Jack parked the car in an inconspicuous alley, rolled down the window, and lit a cigarette.
He didn't go directly to Matt Murdock.
He knew the rules.
He began to cruise the streets, like a real taxi driver, but his ears were perked up, catching every subtle piece of information in the air.
A few street punks whispered in a corner; seeing his car pass, they immediately shut up.
Something was wrong.
Usually, when these people saw his taxi, they would either whistle or flip him off.
Today, their eyes held only fear.
Like mice seeing a cat.
Jack drove another block and saw several Asian men in black suits emerge from a bar; their steps were uniform, their eyes cold, and their waists bulged.
The Hand.
Jack spat.
Why were these damned ninjas so rampant lately?
Had they gotten a new boss?
Jack flicked the cigarette butt out the window, deciding to try a different approach.
He drove the car to the entrance of "Josie's Bar."
The intelligence hub of Hell's Kitchen.
Just as he was about to get out, the phone on the passenger seat suddenly vibrated frantically.
It was Marlene.
Jack's heart tightened.
At this hour, she should have been asleep.
He picked up the phone and answered.
"Marlene?"
There was no immediate sound from the other end of the line, only a rapid, suppressed gasp.
And... the faint sound of furniture being dragged.
"Marlene! Speak!" Jack's voice instantly rose an octave, his heart clutched by an invisible hand.
"Jack..."
Marlene's voice finally came, faint, trembling, filled with endless fear.
"...He's here."
"Who?!"
"A... man in a black Cloak..."
Jack's brain boomed, a complete blank.
Shadow Knight!
"Marlene! Hide! Lock the door! I'll be there right away!"
He slammed on the gas, and the taxi, like an enraged bull, tires screeching on the pavement, spun around and sped off.
"No... it's too late..."
On the phone, Marlene's voice was tearful.
Immediately after, Jack heard the crisp sound of glass shattering!
Then Marlene's scream!
"Ah—!"
"Marlene!!" Jack roared frantically into the phone, his eyes instantly bloodshot, the steering wheel creaking under his grip.
From the other end of the line came a strange, distorted voice, like metal grating.
"Moon Knight."
The voice was full of mockery and cruelty.
"Did you hear that?"
"That's your woman's scream."
"You imposter, you stole the god's grace, yet you can only hide in the Shadows, like a pathetic rat."
"I'll kill you! I swear I'll kill you!"
Jack's voice was hoarse, every word seemingly ground out of his throat.
"Kill me?"
The voice chuckled.
"No, you won't."
"Because you have to choose first, whether to hunt me down or go back and see your woman."
"Oh, by the way."
The voice paused, as if savoring Jack's pain.
"I sent you a gift."
"A gift... of 'loss'."
"Bang!"
A muffled thud.
Jack heard Marlene's extremely suppressed groan of pain, a sound like she had been violently struck in the abdomen by something.
Then, the call was disconnected.
Dead silence.
Only Jack's heavy breathing remained in the car.
His brain stopped thinking.
Reason, anger, hatred... everything was replaced by a cold, pure killing intent.
He didn't know how he drove the car back to the apartment.
He only remembered hitting countless trash cans and running countless red lights.
When he kicked open the apartment door, what he saw was a scene he would never forget.
Marlene was curled up on the living room floor.
Beneath her was a dazzling, rapidly expanding pool of blood.
Her face was as pale as paper, her eyes tightly shut, her lips white from biting them in intense pain.
"Marlene..."
Jack knelt beside her, his outstretched hand trembling violently.
He didn't dare to touch her.
He was afraid that if he touched her, she would shatter like glass.
Marlene slowly opened her eyes, and seeing him, tears instantly burst forth.
Her hand, trembling, reached for her lower abdomen.
The place that had once nurtured a new life.
Now, only emptiness and cold despair remained.
"The child..."
She only managed these two words, then could make no sound, only silent tears, mixed with blood, soaking the cold floor.
The child.
Their child.
Gone.
Jack froze there, like a stone statue.
Countless images flashed through his mind.
Marlene's joy when she first told him she was pregnant.
The two of them picking out a crib for their unborn child.
He had even secretly thought of a name for the child... everything, at this moment, was completely shattered by that bloody scene.
He slowly, slowly raised his head.
Outside the window, a pale moon coldly watched it all.
In Jack's pupils, all emotion vanished.
No anger.
No sadness.
Only a void, a deep abyss burning with White Fire.
He carefully picked up Marlene, his movements so gentle as if he were holding a priceless treasure.
His lips moved to her ear, his voice low and hoarse, yet with an undeniable firmness.
"Don't be afraid."
"I'm here."
He held her, step by step, walking out of their broken home.
The wail of an ambulance grew from distant to near.
But Jack didn't look again.
His gaze, piercing through the New York night, was fixed on the direction of Hell's Kitchen.
A voice echoed deep within his mind.
It wasn't Stephen, nor Mark, nor Khonshu.
It was himself, his most primal, purest will.
Kill it.
Find it.
Tear it apart.
Make it atone for that unborn life in the most painful way.
-------------------------------
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