"This isn't your style. Standing in front of everyone, revealing your identity, and not wiping them all out."
Jessica Jones was panting.
She possessed a physique far superior to normal humans. Her strength gave her incredible endurance.
But tonight, she felt like she was being crushed by a mountain.
An immovable mountain.
This feeling of being enveloped by power was a brand new experience for her.
Every time she met Vincent, he was different.
Initially, he was strong, but their wrestling matches were somewhat evenly matched.
Now? Vincent was like a deity.
Under his charge, she was a small boat battered by a hurricane.
"If I killed them all, where's the deterrence? Besides, the ones I killed had blood on their hands. They looked shiny on the outside, but inside, they were dark and disgusting."
"Except for the Bald Priest. He was a devout ascetic. But our stances are different. Unless the Vatican drops the grudge and God saves face, I will always be the person the Vatican hates most."
Vincent opened up, sharing his true thoughts with Jessica.
Among all his women, even Gwen, none had truly touched Vincent's inner world.
Only Jessica Jones.
Not just because she was his first.
But because they were confidants who talked about everything.
"Your life is going to get more troublesome. I want to stand by your side, but I worry I'll become a weakness others can use against you."
Jessica stroked Vincent's broad chest.
Vincent gave her a sense of security the world never had.
She used to be a lone wolf, baring her fangs. Seemingly strong, but always guarded.
The trauma from Kilgrave (Purple Man) was deep.
It was Vincent who healed that pain.
But the more he healed her, the more inferior she felt deep down. She didn't even realize it.
That's why, after being kidnapped before, she had kept her distance.
But tonight... seeing him descend like a god, wiping out two-thirds of New York's superhumans with a glance...
Jessica was shaken to her core. Surrounded by his dense power, her blood boiled.
She realized that in this helpless world, Vincent was her only reliance.
He wasn't a kid anymore.
He wasn't the boy she used to secretly protect in Hell's Kitchen.
Hell's Kitchen was quieter now. Her detective agency was doing well.
"Haha. You know, having you all around reminds me I'm still human. I'm willing to get stronger to protect you. It gives me a clear goal."
Vincent hugged the petite Jessica.
Jessica heard the "you all." She knew there were other women.
She had suspected it early on.
Ghost-Spider (Gwen) was his girlfriend. With her detective skills, finding that out was easy.
But Jessica never said anything.
This man was perfect, except he was too passionate.
But plenty of men were players. None of them were the Ice Demon.
At least she was one of the women who had "conquered" the Ice Demon.
"I'm just curious. New York is your turf. You usually don't get this angry. The only explanation is that someone plotted against Gwen again, like last time."
Jessica's voice softened, comforting him. Defending him.
"After acquiring Oscorp and making some achievements, blind fools thought they saw a chance to bully me. They planned a storm to shake the world." Vincent lifted Jessica's chin. Her eyes held an exotic charm. "All I did was sweep away their pawns before they could make a move."
"Vatican, Carrier Group, Harbor Attack. If these three things are exposed, the blow to you will be immeasurable. Protests, government intervention... you and the government would be in a dilemma."
Jessica's mind was sharp now that she wasn't drinking herself into a stupor.
"Don't worry. The US doesn't want war with me. I can storm the White House or destroy every military base globally at any time. I can sink their naval power."
"That would shake the foundation of their hegemony. Politicians aren't stupid. The faction that attacked me was a rogue element within the government."
Vincent finished speaking and kissed her deeply.
Jessica pushed against his chest. "I have work tomorrow. You don't want to see me wheeling around New York in a wheelchair, do you?"
She surrendered.
"That doesn't sound like your spicy performance in bed, Jessica."
Vincent grinned triumphantly.
"How can I compare to the old you? You're a monster now. Don't you know your own strength?"
Jessica rolled her eyes.
"Go back. I know you have things to handle tonight. Especially Gwen."
Jessica turned away.
Vincent didn't stay the night.
Jessica felt the emptiness beside her, loneliness creeping in.
But the afterglow covered it.
She really couldn't let him stay. It would kill her.
Even with her healing factor, she could barely handle the increasingly powerful Vincent. His body was forged of steel. A normal woman would be crushed.
"Find more women. Otherwise, I can't imagine what you'd look like if you exploded from holding it in," Jessica muttered.
She fell into a deep sleep quickly. Usually an insomniac who needed alcohol, in Vincent's arms (or aftermath), she found peace.
Oscorp Office. Late Night.
Vincent didn't return to the villa. He went to his office.
Smith was waiting outside.
Vincent wanted Smith to rest, but how could he go home to a house where his family was slaughtered?
In his grief, Smith had found Raven and demanded to become a superhuman.
He was willing to pay.
But Raven knew Smith's status in Vincent's heart. This man had managed the Vlad Family assets takeover, earning Vincent billions.
"I'm sorry, Smith. I didn't protect your family."
Vincent looked heavy.
"Sir, I thank you for avenging them. On the road to the afterlife, my family won't be lonely with those bastards accompanying them," Smith said indifferently.
Grief had dried his tears.
"Rest assured, it's not over. I will wipe out every participant."
Vincent promised.
There was no true mastermind in New York.
Doctor Doom was influential, but not the puppet master.
Wenwu was a pawn. The Vatican paid a heavy price to bring him to New York to see his son (Shang-Chi), but Wenwu died before the reunion. Fate played him.
The real mastermind was subtle. He tempted others.
His power on Earth wasn't strong—he could be killed by the Ghost Rider he created.
But his true form was unrivaled.
Mephisto.
Lord of Hell.
"Is my high profile making him think I'm a real demon? A competitor? So he's testing me?" Vincent murmured.
Smith didn't hear clearly, but his eyes burned. "Sir, you know my loyalty. But I am too weak. I want the power to protect myself."
"Even if there are risks. Even if it's unknown!"
Smith gritted his teeth.
"Smith, your request isn't high. I should have enhanced you sooner. I've seen your loyalty."
"But I hope you don't use this power for chaos. Use it how you want, but remember: we have many enemies. I need Oscorp to gather wealth. Abusing power to dominate wills leads to backlash."
Smith felt like he was meeting Vincent for the first time.
The warning was clear.
"I agree to your request. If you don't want to go home, rest here. Tomorrow, find Raven for the injection."
"Understood, Sir."
Smith left, relieved. Tomorrow, he would be reborn.
Vincent looked at the Ten Rings on his arm.
Too powerful. A single ring held unimaginable energy.
"Carrying them is inconvenient."
With a thought, he used telekinesis to shrink them, fitting them snugly on his arm under his sleeve.
Oscorp Helipad.
A helicopter landed.
Nick Fury was in New York, but he was at Stark Tower. King does not see King. Fury wouldn't risk meeting Vincent yet.
But Agent Hill arrived at Oscorp.
She was now a Level 9 Agent.
She swiped her card and entered Vincent's office. Julia had left for the day.
Wearing a black pencil skirt and a trench coat, Hill walked in, red high heels clicking.
Vincent sat on the sofa, waiting.
"Apologies. The Colonel at the Air Force base forged orders to launch the fighters. He's dead. We can't find his handler," Hill reported, standing before him, her figure on full display.
"I know who it is. They couldn't resist the Lord of Hell's temptation, but their ambition was real."
Vincent uncrossed his legs.
Hill stepped forward.
She took off her trench coat.
She hiked up her skirt and straddled his lap.
"Are you here to atone?" Vincent smiled, enjoying the view.
Hill smirked foxily. This wasn't acting.
"Did I come all this way just for work?"
"Hill, you speak to my heart. My negative emotions are fading thanks to you."
"Just fading emotions? No other... improper thoughts?"
Hill placed a hand on his chest.
"You're sitting on the evidence of my attitude."
"Yes. I feel it," Hill said ambiguously, blushing slightly.
The blush ruined her tough persona, but it made Vincent like her more.
"So, what's the condition?" Vincent cooled down slightly.
He wouldn't use psychic powers on his women.
"Pfft." Hill rolled her eyes. "No conditions."
"Then it's a strategy?"
"What strategy?"
"Diverting my attention so Director Fury can recruit allies."
"I think you misunderstood. I don't accept transactions anymore," Hill said resentfully, trying to stand up.
Vincent's large hand grabbed her waist and pulled her back down.
"You said it."
He flipped her onto the sofa.
"Now you don't even have the chance to regret."
Vincent smiled with satisfaction.
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