It was deep into the night, the kind that made alleyways feel colder than they really were.
Behind a dimly lit bar, a police cruiser pulled up near the back entrance. Two officers stepped out.
Not far off, the glow of a 24-hour convenience store flickered at the street corner.
Officer Jayden loosened his belt, which struggled to contain his large gut.
"Let's go, Isaac. Let's grab some coffee. By the time we get back, they should've finished the setup."
A crooked smile played on Isaac's face.
"Hey, once we get that money, what are you gonna do with it?
I'm thinking of taking a real vacation this year. Hawaii—sunshine, beaches, beautiful women. Damn, I'm gonna have the time of my life."
Jayden rolled his eyes.
"You're always thinking about fun. But hey, don't say I never looked out for you.
I've got a lead—fifty grand, and you get bumped up to sergeant. A hundred, you're a captain. You in?"
Isaac's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Seriously? You better not be messing with me."
Jayden snorted.
"If you don't believe me, go on and enjoy your little Hawaiian getaway.
But when you come back, don't forget to salute me."
"Are you sure you're not scamming me?"
"I guarantee you'll get promoted within three months. If not, full refund!"
A flicker of hesitation passed over Isaac's face. But in the end, he clenched his jaw and nodded.
"Alright! Here's my fifty grand. I want that sergeant badge!"
"Now that's what I like to hear. Once you're a sergeant, making that money back will be a piece of cake."
Jayden gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder, but deep in his eyes, a gleam of excitement sparkled—one he carefully masked.
Promoting someone to sergeant cost thirty thousand per head. Two people—sixty grand. That left him with a clean forty to pocket.
Hell, this year he was going to Hawaii after all. He was going to enjoy it like never before.
Above them, on a nearby rooftop, Cohen was watching.
He wasn't wearing his demon mask tonight. This was personal. A true act of vengeance. And he wanted them to know who was behind it.
Turning slightly, he spotted movement by the bar's back door. Several silhouettes were hauling crates into the police car.
A sharp glint flashed in Cohen's eyes.
He grinned.
"Let's spice things up a little, shall we?"
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Bryan Kim had finally secured a date with the woman he had long admired.
He arrived in style—his personal seven-meter stretch Lincoln limousine pulling up at the entrance.
The two were then driven to an exclusive rooftop French restaurant, accessible only to members.
The dining area opened into a panoramic view, with 270-degree floor-to-ceiling windows framing the dazzling lights of Manhattan.
Dressed impeccably in his tailored suit, Bryan Kim followed the courteous, well-trained staff to their table near the center of the room.
It wasn't the most scenic spot in the house, and guests surrounded them on all sides.
A trace of disappointment flashed in Vanessa's eyes.
Guests gradually took their seats around them. Despite the growing crowd, the entire restaurant remained surprisingly quiet—not even a whisper drifted through the air.
As the soft strains of a live violin performance flowed through the room, Bryan Kim spoke gently, elegantly, like a man from another era.
He shared stories of his childhood, his ideals, his ambitions, and reflections on life.
His thoughts were unusual yet compelling, his voice low but full of conviction.
At first, Vanessa was simply intrigued by the man's magnetic presence. But the more they spoke, the more admiration welled up inside her—followed by a quiet awe.
What a remarkable man.
Slowly, imperceptibly, the sweet scent of love began to drift between them...
Meanwhile, Jayden and Isaac finished their coffee and returned to the alley behind the bar.
The back door was now locked. The area was empty—no one in sight.
But that didn't surprise them. They glanced at the wheels of the police car and noticed how low the suspension had dipped.
The cargo was loaded.
Without a word, the two began their delivery run, cruising down familiar streets to distribute the goods.
Behind them, Cohen trailed in an old, beat-up vehicle—clearly a modified junker, just good enough to follow without drawing attention.
He waited, patient, watching.
Only when all six deliveries had been made and the illicit packages safely handed off at each drop site… did a satisfied smile creep across his face.
Then—without warning—he hit the gas and slammed his car straight into Jayden and Isaac's cruiser.
"Damn it!"
Jayden cursed loudly as he stepped out of the patrol car, the jolt of a rear-end collision still rattling his nerves.
He exhaled in relief—thankfully, the deliveries had already been made. If not, they'd be in deep trouble.
Beside him, Isaac was equally furious. He didn't say a word—just pulled out his gun.
To his credit, he didn't rush in recklessly. Instead, he advanced cautiously, firearm raised in a trained and alert stance.
Jayden pounded on the door of the beat-up car. As the window rolled down, his expression shifted from anger to stunned disbelief.
"You…" he muttered. "You've got to be kidding me—it's you!"
He glanced back at his partner.
"Hey, Isaac, come take a look! This guy's still breathing. I thought he was long gone!"
Isaac lowered his weapon, walked around to the front of the car, and when he saw who it was, let out a sarcastic whistle.
"Damn... How the hell did he survive? Thought Demon Face finished the job. Guess Hell's Kitchen isn't what it used to be."
With a casual grin, Cohen stepped out of the car.
"Well, if it isn't my two favorite dirty cops. I've missed you."
At those words, both Jayden and Isaac immediately tensed, rage flaring in their eyes.
Isaac's hand hovered near his holster, a vicious smile spreading across his face.
"You said last time wasn't the right place or time to get rid of him, remember?"
Jayden nodded slowly, voice cold.
"Yeah... but tonight feels just right."
But before they could move, Cohen was already on them.
Like a flash, he struck—two brutal blows landed on their sides with precision.
"Ugh—my kidneys…" Jayden gasped, doubling over in pain.
"Bam! Bam!"
A pair of swift, decisive punches to the back of their heads—and both officers collapsed to the ground.
Dragging their unconscious bodies into his car, Cohen sped off into the night.
Soon, he reached a secluded pier. Inside an old rust-covered shipping container, he activated a powerful jolt of electricity.
Jayden's eyes flew open.
He and Isaac were both suspended in the air, their arms bound, hanging inside a grimy iron chamber.
A single dim bulb swung overhead.
A camera stood on a tripod, red light blinking silently.
And in the darkness ahead—a shadowed figure stood watching them.
Jayden's memory caught up to him.
The last thing he'd seen before blacking out... was Cohen.
Sure enough, a familiar voice echoed through the metal walls.
"Gentlemen... let's play a little game."
Jayden's temper flared immediately.
"Damn it! Let us go, you freak! We're police officers—you've committed a major crime! If you don't want to die, you'd better release us right now—"
Zzzap!
A harsh surge of electricity coursed through his body.
His muscles stiffened. He convulsed violently, froth forming at the corners of his mouth.
Even as rage boiled in his chest, a deeper fear began to rise.
This wasn't a bluff. The pain made that clear—whoever this guy was, he was willing to kill.
This... this couldn't be happening.
How could someone like Cohen—someone he thought was insignificant—have the guts to do this?
From the shadows came the voice again:
"Listen closely. If you want to avoid more of that... you'll play my game. Nicely."
Isaac wasn't spared either. The same current wracked his body. Gasping for breath, he groaned, "What kind... of game are you playing?"
A chuckle drifted from the dark.
"Starting now, every thirty seconds, one of you will share a secret—something real, something hidden. If you stay silent... or try to fake it... well, you've already had a taste of the consequences."
Jayden and Isaac exchanged a glance. Silence.
Cohen's tone grew cheerful, almost sing-song:
"Time waits for no one. Ten… nine… eight…"
Panic flashed in Jayden's eyes. "Okay, okay, I'll talk!"
He clenched his jaw, then shot Isaac a look.
"Even though my partner's Black... deep down, I've always been prejudiced. I... I think I'm a racist."
As he said it, he gave Isaac a subtle wink, as if to say, play along.
Isaac's face twisted in betrayal.
"You son of a—after all we've been through together?! You were a damn bigot all along—?"
Zzzap!
The electricity struck again—sharper, harsher.
"Gentlemen," Cohen said coldly, "don't insult my intelligence. You think I didn't do my homework? Don't waste my time with things I already know."
His voice dropped to a low warning.
"Last chance. If you want to keep this game going... cut the games."
He paused.
"All right, next round. Thirty seconds. Your turn, Officer Isaac."
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