"Goodbye."
"Go kill him."
These words echoed repeatedly in his mind.
No!
Jessica Jones was completely out of sorts tonight; she wasn't going for revenge, but to her death.
William's mind flashed back to her words: "I messed up, I'll compensate you," and also to her almost self-destructive act of "compensation."
It turned out that wasn't a sudden surge of desire, but a hysterical farewell ceremony.
He absolutely could not stand by and watch his most troublesome, yet most valuable, "asset" silently end herself like this.
William quickly got dressed. He didn't choose the respectable suit that represented his "professional image," but instead put on his most durable casual pants and a dark jacket.
Immediately after, he took out the forearm guard from deep within the closet—the "foolproof plan."
The cold titanium alloy pressed against his forearm, bringing a sense of heavy power that didn't belong to ordinary people.
The bio-electric resonance system inside the guard emitted a faint hum, and the neural sensors instantly synchronized with his body, a subtle data stream flowing into his perception.
He wiggled his fingers, checking the non-lethal taser probes at the knuckle joints on the front of the guard, and then confirmed the status of the wrist nano-cable winch.
After completing these checks, he took a deep breath, like a clumsy soldier about to rush into battle, and abruptly pulled open the door and charged out.
His entire focus was on the disappearing figure, completely unaware that behind the tightly closed door opposite, a pair of sharp eyes flickered in the darkness, and then a miniature communication device was quietly taken out.
The night wind was cool, and it also helped William's overheated brain cool down a bit.
A tall figure, dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, appeared at the street corner.
Jessica Jones.
Fortunately, she hadn't gone far.
She neither hailed a cab nor ran with her superhuman speed; she was simply walking.
Her steps were terrifyingly firm, like a programmed machine, each stride measuring the distance, paved with blood and pain, between herself and her enemy.
William didn't hesitate at all, following her directly, maintaining a subtle distance.
They walked through block after block, from the dirty chaos of Hell's Kitchen, gradually moving towards the neat and quiet middle-class territory of Queens.
Finally, Jessica stopped in front of a beautiful detached Villa.
It was a very typical U.S. Villa.
It had a neatly mowed lawn, a White fence, and a warm "Welcome Home" wooden sign hanging on the porch.
Everything seemed so peaceful, so middle-class, so... fake.
William's Danger Prediction screamed at this moment.
In that house, the most intense, purest malice he had ever felt in his life was entrenched.
This was not the overt brutality of the petty thugs in Hell's Kitchen, but a deeper, stickier evil, like deep-sea venom, not even bothering to disguise itself, openly emitting a suffocating aura.
Jessica kicked open the exquisite wooden door.
William's heart clenched, disregarding his astonishment, and immediately circled to the Shadow of the Villa's side, holding his breath, looking into the house through the large French window.
The living room was brightly lit. A man in a purple suit was elegantly sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, holding a glass of dark red liquid, which looked like red wine.
On the surface, he was refined, even with a gentle smile on his face, but his eyes were completely devoid of warmth, only an indifferent emptiness.
In front of him stood a family:
A middle-aged man in loungewear, a terrified woman, and two children, a boy and a girl, about ten years old.
They held hands, like a fragile human wall, blocking the space between Jessica and the man in purple.
Their expressions were dull and vacant, their eyes unfocused, like puppets with their souls extracted.
"Look at you, Jessica."
The purple-suited man's voice was magnetic, yet it sent a shiver down William's spine.
"Still so rude, you can't even ring the doorbell anymore."
Jessica clenched her fists, staring intently at him, the hatred in her eyes almost solidifying.
"Kilgrave."
"Come to kill me?"
Kilgrave chuckled lightly, swirling the wine in his glass.
"You can. But, you have to ask them if they agree first."
He gestured to the family with his chin.
Jessica didn't move, her body trembling slightly from anger and struggle.
"Oh, right, I forgot."
Kilgrave dramatically patted his forehead.
"Your resistance has gotten stronger now. Well then,"
He turned to the middle-aged man.
"Sir, please pick up the fruit knife on the table and give your neck a little slash, elegantly."
"No!" Jessica roared.
The middle-aged man obediently walked towards the coffee table, expressionlessly picking up the fruit knife.
"Stop!" Kilgrave said again.
The man's movements ceased abruptly, the blade less than a centimeter from his neck.
"See, Jessica?" Kilgrave's smile grew more cruel.
"This is art. And you, you are my most perfect creation. Now, are you going to destroy your creator?"
Jessica was pinned to the spot, caught between a rock and a hard place.
William hid outside the window.
He watched the cruel psychological torture in the living room, watching the expression on Jessica's face, a mixture of towering hatred and endless despair.
His brain was working at lightning speed.
Mechanical Induction sketched out a blueprint of the entire Villa in his mind; every wire, every socket, was crystal clear.
He could even "feel" the internal gears of Kilgrave's expensive watch turning.
And Danger Prediction was like a mad compass needle, locked onto Kilgrave.
He couldn't wait any longer.
If he waited, Jessica would break, and that family would die.
Then, it would be his turn, the peeping tom.
William took a deep breath, suppressing the fear in his throat.
Take out that purple man!
He silently circled to the back of the Villa.
Fortunately, a small window leading to the kitchen wasn't fully closed.
He climbed in, moving as clumsily as a mouse stealing cheese.
All of Kilgrave's attention was on Jessica.
He was enjoying the pleasure of toying with her, completely unaware that a true, unpredictable variable had already infiltrated his hunting ground.
William hunched over, clinging to the wall like a gecko, inching towards the living room.
He only had one chance.
Just as Kilgrave raised his wine glass, preparing to utter his next more vicious words to completely break Jessica, William suddenly sprang out from behind the sofa!
The "foolproof plan" on his right arm flashed with a metallic gleam in the light.
"Whoosh—"
Before Kilgrave's brain could even issue a command, the non-lethal taser probe had accurately struck his neck.
"Zzzap!"
A strong electric current instantly coursed through his entire body.
Kilgrave's elegant smile froze, his body began to convulse violently, and he made incomprehensible "ho ho" sounds, like a rooster with its neck squeezed.
The red wine glass in his hand flew out, shattering on the expensive carpet in a splash of glaring red.
The next second, his eyes rolled back, and he slumped softly to the ground, completely losing consciousness.
As he fell, the "human wall" blocking Jessica also swayed in unison.
Then, like puppets with severed strings, they all slumped to the ground, emitting confused moans.
The entire living room instantly fell into a dead silence.
Jessica Jones's eyes widened, looking at the scene before her in disbelief.
She didn't look at the unconscious bastard on the floor, but stared intently at the man still holding the strange armguard.
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