Villain In MCU

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Master Bedroom

Lisa lay in bed, humming a nursery rhyme softly while the two children smacked their lips and slept soundly.

Paul sat beside the bed, looking at the children's faces with reluctance, his heart filled with regret and sadness.

"Honey, what's wrong with you?" Lisa noticed something was troubling her husband.

"It's okay. I'm going out for a while to handle some business with my eldest brother." Paul replied, reaching out to gently stroke his children's ittle heads.

"Is there any danger?"

"I can handle it. Please take care of the children until I come back."

Lisa sensed an air of finality in his words and frowned, wanting to ask for clarification. But before she could speak, Paul suddenly hugged her, inhaling deeply as if trying to remember her scent.

After a few moments, Paul released her and said, "Honey, can you help me get that suit?"

Lisa, confused by his actions, went to the closet and took out the suit.

Once he'd put on the new suit, Paul looked at himself in the mirror and asked, "Do I really look like a monkey?"

Lisa, usually quick to retort, stopped herself. Instead, she stepped forward to adjust his bow tie and said, "No, you look handsome."

Paul smiled, leaned down, and kissed her deeply.

When they parted, he slowly walked to the door, pausing as if to say a silent goodbye. He turned to look at Lisa affectionately.

"Goodbye."

---

In the living room, Jason was lounging on the sofa, eating pizza.

"So soon? Why don't you stay a bit longer?" Jason asked.

Paul's expression turned resolute, "No need. Let's go."

---

After leaving the apartment, Jason got into Paul's Ford sedan, "Did you know there's a Chinese restaurant in Hell's Kitchen?"

"I know. You took me there once. The food was good, but way too spicy."

"You don't know what's good. No other Chinese restaurant in New York serves authentic Sichuan cuisine like that."

Paul looked at his watch, "At this hour, the restaurant's closed."

"We're not going to eat. Drive into the alley behind the restaurant."

"Alright."

As the car started, Jason took out his phone and dialed a number from memory.

The call connected to a black marketeer—a man notorious in New York, with connections in every corner of the underworld. Guns, ammo, drugs, women, real estate, cars, intelligence…as long as you had the money, he could supply nearly anything. Jason was a regular customer; his Manhattan apartment was stocked with standard guns and military grenades, all from this dealer.

After five rings, the call connected.

"Hey! Mr. Morgan, hope I didn't interrupt your…night."

A gruff voice replied, "Haha, Jason! I guessed you, the bastard, weren't dead yet."

"You, a greedy, lecherous old dog, aren't dead either. Why should I go first?"

"Oh my god, Kingpin should sew that stinky mouth of yours shut. So, what do you want at this hour?"

"How much C4 do you have?"

Paul's body tensed slightly.

"C4! Are you insane?"

"Stop the chatter. Name your price."

"Um…I've got five blocks in stock. If you want them all, it'll be $300,000."

"Fine, I'll take them all. Meet me in the alley behind the Hell's Kitchen Chinese Restaurant. This is a special situation, so I need you to come in person."

"What! Give me one good reason to leave my bed at this hour?"

"Man, I've got a $3 million bounty on my head. I can't trust anyone else."

"You're always trouble. Alright, but this is a one-time deal. Got a code?"

"Three long flashes, one short."

"Got it. See you in an hour."

"Oh, by the way—how's Miss Morgan?"

"Fuck you!"

Jason hung up, smiling, and Paul couldn't help but ask, "What exactly do you want me to do? And why C4?"

"Blood debt must be paid with blood. My target is the Russian mafia."

Paul's face turned pale, "A…suicide bomb?"

"What? Are you scared?"

"…"

Jason tried to reassure him, "Compared to dying under torture, this way is quick and painless. Think of your family."

Paul sighed, "I'm not afraid. Just tell me what to do."

"Good. Call Vladimir and tell him you know where I'm hiding. Make him gather the entire mafia."

"Then what? How do I get into their base?"

"Tell him that because yesterday's mission failed, you're questioning his leadership. Say you need to lead the operation yourself."

"Vladimir's too proud. He won't agree."

"He will—anything to avenge his brother."

---

Fifteen minutes later, the Ford pulled into the alley behind the Hell's Kitchen restaurant.

After shutting off the engine, Paul dialed Vladimir's number.

"Beep, beep…Hello?"

"Vladimir, this is Paul."

"Who? Oh, right. You're that dog beside Jason."

Paul forced a grin and replied, "Seems like you're in a foul mood. Jason killed over twenty of your men, and killed your brother. Anyone would be upset."

"Paul, right? Once Jason's dead, you're next."

"Heh, kill Jason? Do you even know where he is?"

"…"

Vladimir fell silent.

"So, what's this about?"

Paul said, "I used to be Jason's right hand. I know where he's hiding."

"What!"

"Don't you want to know where he is?"

"Give me the address. You'll be well compensated."

"Money's not an issue. I just want to know, what's your plan?"

"Take some men and kill that bastard."

"What? You're planning on sacrificing more of your men?"

"Last time was a fluke. I'll get him this time."

"Sorry, but I don't trust you. If you want Jason's location, you'll follow my lead. Otherwise, he might slip away."

Silence. Vladimir was obviously hesitating.

Jason gestured for Paul to be patient.

Finally, Vladimir spoke, "Fine. What do you want us to do?"

Paul let out a quiet sigh of relief, "Gather all your men. Bring every weapon you've got, heavy artillery included. Notify me when you're ready."

"I understand. One last question. You were once Jason's ally. Why…"

"Stupid question. Who do you think betrayed him?"

After the call ended, Jason breathed a sigh of relief.

Vladimir had taken the bait. Now, all they had to do was wait for old Morgan to deliver the C4.

After about ten minutes, an old Mercedes-Benz S600 pulled into the alley and parked behind the Ford, blocking the exit.

The Mercedes signaled three long flashes, one short.

"No problem. Send the signal." Jason said.

Paul nodded and pressed the brake lights in response: three long, one short. If either side messed up the code, it would indicate an issue and the deal would be called off.

Once the code was confirmed, Jason stepped out, and the driver of the Mercedes did the same, helping an elderly man out of the back.

The man, leaning on a cane, had gray hair at his temples and wore gold-rimmed glasses. His face was lined with wrinkles and age spots.

Jason approached him and took a sniff, "Light perfume, no strong scent. Sweet notes—popular among young women. Let me guess…an Asian college girl?"

Morgan chuckled, "Jason, you always know how to recognize a woman by her scent."

Jason scowled, "You're a disgusting old man, dating women younger than your granddaughter."

Morgan didn't deny it, "As I get older, I appreciate youth more. Don't judge—you'll understand one day."

Jason rolled his eyes, "Enough. Let's see the goods."

Morgan nodded to his driver, who opened the trunk, retrieved a dark suitcase, and placed it on the hood.

Inside were five blocks of C4, along with a remote detonator.

Morgan pointed to the C4, "Each block is linked. Together, they can bring down a building. Handle with care."

Ignoring the commentary, Jason inspected the explosives.