Early the next morning, John Wick brought a stack of intel to Alex Ray.
This was the information Alex had requested from the Continental Hotel the day before. He had arranged for Loki to be tracked—after all, regardless of his unpredictable nature, Loki was still a god. Alex couldn't risk him stirring up trouble in Hell's Kitchen.
At that moment, Alex was sitting leisurely at the breakfast table, enjoying a simple but elegant morning meal.
His eyes occasionally drifted toward the rising sun outside the window. He couldn't help but wonder how long this fleeting peace would last.
As he ate, Alex glanced through the latest updates on Loki.
His eyebrows rose slightly at the contents.
After finishing, he set the file aside.
"Typical Loki. No matter where he ends up, he thrives," Alex muttered, unable to hide a smirk.
The report detailed that ever since Loki chose to remain at the orphanage, he had been actively seeking ways to make money.
Now, he was the leader of a small-time gang, followed around daily by two companions.
One of them surprised Alex: America Chavez.
She had once been someone Alex deeply wanted to befriend. After all, she was born with the unique ability to travel across the multiverse—a rarity among superheroes.
Unlike anyone else, America had no variants in the multiverse. She was the only one. A singular existence.
Alex hadn't expected her to exist in this universe—or to cross paths with Loki.
That mischievous bastard was seriously lucky.
But Alex no longer needed America's abilities. He had since acquired his own means of traversing the multiverse.
As for Loki's other follower, Alex didn't remember much about him. The report identified him as a black youth known by the nickname "Blacksmith" or "Rage."
He had grown up in Brooklyn, which made Alex dismiss him without much thought.
But it was Loki's first big payday that truly amused him.
Naturally, someone like Loki wouldn't make an honest living. He made his first pot of gold as a bar companion, charming tips out of wealthy women.
Alex had even watched a video of Loki working the bar.
Inside the upscale venue, Loki wore finely tailored casualwear. His bearing was noble and wild, impossible to ignore.
His voice was like a spell—instantly sweeping away the worries of the rich women around him. With alcohol and laughter, he dissolved their worldly burdens.
He had a talent for reading people. Whether attentively listening to their mundane stories or spinning gentle lies, Loki made each customer feel as though she were the center of the universe.
In just a few short days, his name had become legend among the city's elite. Countless wealthy women were willing to throw fortunes at him just to share a night in his company.
Of course, it all remained within acceptable bounds. Anything beyond that would've been censored.
"Yeah," Alex sighed, "Loki's always been irresistible to women."
He hadn't expected Loki to stoop to such work—but at least he was earning the money himself.
Naturally, Loki's sudden popularity pissed off the local gangs. But ordinary thugs were no match for a god.
With a few cunning maneuvers, Loki quickly took out a rival gang leader and seized control.
He used all his earnings to renovate the orphanage and even brought back the old woman who had once saved him at the airport.
"Looks like he's grown," Alex murmured. "Maybe it's time to send him back to Asgard. Leave him on Earth any longer and I feel something terrible will happen. We've done enough."
With that thought, Alex stood and headed for the orphanage where Loki now lived.
He didn't open a portal. Instead, he chose to walk.
The distance wasn't far—maybe an hour on foot.
Sure, a portal would've been faster, but Alex wanted to see Hell's Kitchen with his own eyes.
Sometimes, walking slowly helped you remember the beauty of the path you've taken.
Sunlight streamed through scattered clouds, bathing the streets of Hell's Kitchen in warm, golden hues. Once a dark and violent place, the neighborhood now gleamed with hope.
Alex walked slowly, each step deliberate and full of emotion.
The buildings on either side had been restored. Where chipped paint and graffiti once stood, clean white walls and vibrant murals now told the story of a community reborn.
"Hey, Alex! Out for a walk today?" a familiar grocer called out, beaming with a genuine smile.
Alex returned the greeting with a nod. He could feel it—real happiness, born not from fantasy, but from change.
As he ventured deeper into the neighborhood, the transformation was even clearer.
Children chased one another in the park, their laughter crisp and contagious. Old folks sat contentedly on benches, soaking in the quiet joy of a peaceful afternoon.
It all made Alex deeply proud.
Because he had made this happen.
Soon, he arrived at the boundary between Hell's Kitchen and Brooklyn. He didn't need a sign to tell him.
The contrast was stark.
On the Hell's Kitchen side, the streets were clean and vibrant. Across the line, Brooklyn looked like a war zone. Abandoned buildings, addicts shuffling aimlessly, despair clinging to the air like a thick fog.
Brooklyn had become the new hell.
A group of blind gang members, clearly unfamiliar with Alex's face, saw "an Asian guy" walking alone and thought they'd found easy prey.
Before they could get close, they were already taken out by Alex's Shadow Legion.
Only then did the Brooklyn gang members realize who they were dealing with.
"Alex Ray… the Lord of Hell!"
"No way... why would the Lord of Hell come here?"
Panic spread like wildfire.
Moments later, an entire crew of gangsters arrived, their leader at the front, trembling.
They blocked the street, desperate but terrified.
"Alex Ray," the gang leader stammered, his voice shaking. "W-what do you want? We left Hell's Kitchen like you told us!"
Surrounded and annoyed, Alex didn't bother explaining.
He spoke coldly, "I'm here for someone. You've got three seconds."
His tone was like steel—calm, concise, and absolute.
The pressure in the air became suffocating. The more timid thugs glanced around nervously, ready to bolt.
When Alex said "two," someone finally cracked and ran.
That was all it took.
Like dominos, the others followed, scattering in a blind panic. Only the leader remained, frozen in place.
Alex didn't waste words.
He vanished in a flicker and reappeared in front of the man. With a casual wave of his hand, he swatted him against the wall like an insect.
Then, he turned and approached the orphanage.
There, in the courtyard, he found Loki crouched on the ground, playing with the kids.
Alex couldn't help but laugh.
Just then, one of the children tugged on Loki's sleeve and pointed.
Loki turned—and saw Alex.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Loki grumbled, clearly unenthusiastic.
Alex didn't answer. He simply tossed a box into Loki's hands.
Inside it was a DVD of the Loki TV series.
"Watch it," Alex said. "After you're done, I'll restore your divine power. Tomorrow, we're going back to Asgard."
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