A Marvelous Gamer

— Jessica —

I still couldn't believe his audacity. Manipulating Kilgrave's orders as if they were vague legal clauses. Was that what people meant by "ignorance is bliss"? He didn't even know whom he was challenging with his actions. If Kilgrave found out about it, his end would be worse than whatever those gang members would have done to him.

But at the same time, I felt tempted. For the first time, I thought I had a chance to be free of his control, even for a little bit. Should I take his offer? It felt like a forbidden fruit.

Maybe he could see the hesitation and confusion on my face.

"Some things in our lives are outside our control. Maybe you will resolve them in the future, but in the present, you can do anything but be helpless against them," the taxi driver said with a serious face.

Then he took a step closer to me and looked me directly in the eyes, "Sometimes, if we can't control something, it's better to enjoy it."

I couldn't say anything with his intense gaze on me.

Then, his serious face melted into a warm, sunny, and encouraging smile. He extended his hand to me, "Let's go find that guy who ran away."

"Hmm," was all I could say as I nodded and took his hand. Consequences be damned. I would face them when they would come.

He took me to his taxi. Like a gentleman, he opened the door for me, and I sat in the passenger seat. He went around and came in, and sat in the driver's seat.

His gaze sharpened as he sat with his hands on the steering wheel. With a confident smirk, he said, "Let me show the skills of a driver with Adept level driving skills."

Adept level? Was that some kind of weird brag or code? The age gap between us wasn't that big—I'd know if that was some new slang.

Then he hit the gas, and the car roared to life, its tires screeching as it launched, leaving behind only the smell of burnt rubber and a trail of dust. Against all odds, I let myself smile.

For the next four hours, we were on a wild ride—literally.

We combed the city for the gang member who ran. I still had no idea what he meant by "Adept level," but one thing was clear: the guy could drive.

He knew where he could push the law enough not to get a fine and drive as high as possible without getting in trouble. My heart leaped to my throat more than once when he skillfully snaked the taxi between the vehicles as they passed mere centimeters away from it.

I felt fear. I felt excitement. I felt the thrill of adrenaline after a long time. I screamed in excitement.

We went to a park, thinking he might be hiding there. I walked with him leisurely in the park, taking in our peaceful surroundings. How long had it been since I felt so peaceful? I'd forgotten what that felt like.

Unfortunately, we couldn't find the guy despite walking slowly to avoid missing a corner.

We discussed various topics while walking. The taxi driver said he was a college freshman, working taxi shifts to pay for his tuition. I told him I was a graduate looking for a job. We didn't tell him more, and we didn't ask for more. Such a simple conversation felt like a luxury.

Next, we went to a small but cozy diner. After all, we needed energy to continue our search for him. Once again, like a gentleman, he pulled the chair for me.

I wanted to pay for our meal as it was the least I could do. Moreover, I didn't want to burden him with our food, as he had worked hard to pay for his studies. However, he was adamant about paying, stating that since he had invited me, he would cover the cost. In the end, I relented.

After that, we drove slowly, checking alleyways and peeking down side streets—still no sign of the thug. I wonder where he could be hiding. 

It was already nighttime, and we decided to check out a club. Maybe the thug was hiding there, thinking no one could find him in the crowd full of sweat, music, and flashing lights.

We hit the bar first. He surprised me by refusing to drink. Said he didn't like alcohol, and technically, he wasn't even 21. I blinked. Right. He was younger than I, but acted more mature than most men I'd met.

He said that I could drink. He took a soft drink to keep me company.

I raised an eyebrow, teasing, "What's your plan? Get me drunk and drag me to a motel room?"

He grinned. "Nah. I value my life."

We both laughed. I couldn't remember the last time I laughed like that with someone. Freely. Genuinely.

We had a few drinks, or more like I had a few drinks. He only drank his one soft drink. And by the way, that much alcohol wasn't enough to make me drunk. With my physique, I had a high tolerance for alcohol, which only increased as I drank more and more times since I was under Kilgrave's control to numb the pain in my soul.

But tonight was different; I drank because I wanted to, because I wanted to have fun.

This time, I paid. Only I drank alcohol, and the taxi driver's drink wasn't as costly as mine. There was no way I was letting a college student pay for my alcohol. This time, he agreed.

After drinking, we decided to hit the dance floor. He didn't know how to dance and looked so goofy, but it was fun dancing with him. I taught him some moves, and he improved a bit, just a bit.

The remaining tension in my body dissipated, and I relaxed completely as I danced to the rhythm. Soon, the dance became hot and steamy as we danced, sticking to each other. I soon turned around as he held my waist from behind.

I twerked and ground my ass on his crotch. I felt his hard dick pressing against my ass. Seeing him squirming but trying to control himself and not cross a line, I felt like teasing him. I truly felt free at that moment.

I pushed myself further in, and he tightened his hold in response. His hands explored my body, but without crossing that invisible line. And it made me want to cross it.

Finally, after dancing to my heart's content, we returned to the bar. He looked exhausted, but he didn't complain. I felt guilty because I realized I had forgotten he was a normal human, and his stamina couldn't match mine. But he still tried to accompany me to the end.

We left the club and found ourselves back at the park, quiet, still, where time seemed to slow.

As the time neared for me to return to Kilgrave, I felt increasing dread at the thought of not being able to meet my new friend again.

I didn't want the moment to end. Ultimately, I decided to tell him my name, and if I could get his name, it would be even better. I didn't want to associate with him anymore as it would put his life at risk, but a selfish part of him wanted us to at least know each other's names before parting.

I laughed—soft, unsure—trying to make it feel casual. "We've done all this and forgotten the basics. I don't even know your name."

He looked at me. Calm. Warm.

"Let me start," I said. "My name is—"

His finger gently pressed against my lips.

I froze. Heat rushed to my cheeks. That gesture—so soft, so deliberate—felt more intimate than all the grinding and teasing we'd done earlier tonight.

But then… doubt crept in. He didn't want to know?

Of course not. I should've known. The dancing, the laughter—it had to be a pity. A moment of mercy for a broken woman.

But I didn't resent him. It would be good to live the rest of my life with the memories of this stranger. Maybe they would give me some strength.

I looked away, eyes burning. Why did this hurt so much?

Now, I just wanted to leave.

Maybe he felt my sadness as he said calmly, "I stopped you from telling me your name, not because I don't want us to know about each other, but because, currently, it will be better for you if we don't."

I looked up into his eyes. His eyes were clear without any deception. But I couldn't understand his logic. How could introducing each other not be suitable for me?

"Why," I whispered. I didn't understand.

"Because I could see how much pain you're in from the start. If we exchange names, we stop being strangers. And when we stop being strangers, you'll hesitate to open up. You'll hold it all in—like you always do."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice gentler now.

"Sometimes, it's easier to bleed in front of someone you'll never see again."

I stood there, stunned. No one had ever said something like that to me.

"So go ahead," he said. "You don't have to tell me your name. Just talk. Yell. Cry. Scream. Tell me your frustrations. Say whatever you've never been able to say to anyone else. Because for tonight, I'm just a stranger. And you need one."

Huh? Why was my face wet? I blinked and touched my cheek. Tears. I was crying?

He guided me gently to a nearby bench and sat me down like I was something fragile. I didn't resist. Couldn't.

I finally could no longer control my emotions and started crying.

Everything came out: the pain, the frustration, the helplessness, the despair. I told him how Kilgrave had controlled my mind and made me do things I regretted every moment of my waking life. I confessed like I was trying to earn salvation, I knew I didn't deserve. He patiently listened to everything without interrupting even once.

Once I was done, I just burst into tears. I didn't know how long I cried, but his attention was on me the entire time. He gently caressed my back with his hand.

Finally, I stopped crying. But I couldn't look him in the eyes. I knew what the general populace thought about mutants; even though mutation was not the reason for my powers, for normal people, having powers was generally equal to being a mutant. What if he hated me for that?

I steeled myself for the worst—that he'd call me a mutant freak, say he never wanted anything to do with someone like me. Maybe he would stand up and walk away. Maybe he'd even call the cops. And if he did, I wouldn't blame him. I'd blame fate or whatever cruel force decided my path. Hope was never meant for someone like me: just silence and the slow ache of being alone.

But the words never came. Instead, he held my chin and gently turned my head to look at him. His eyes were still clear as before—no disgust or fear.

"Do you feel lighter now?" He asked with a smile.

Huh? Lighter? I… did feel lighter.

The pressure in my chest had eased. The weight wasn't gone, but it no longer felt like it would crush me.

"Don't you feel afraid of me?" I asked, despite being afraid to hear his answer.

"Afraid? Yes, I am afraid of you," he answered thoughtfully.

I knew it. Of course. What did I expect?

But suddenly, his face changed to mischievous.

"Of course, I am afraid…" he leaned in closer, a smirk tugging at his lips, "that you might fall for me if I hang around too long."

My mouth opened, then closed, then opened again—but no sound came out.

When I saw the infuriating smirk on his face, the sadness disappeared, replaced with the overwhelming urge to hit him again. A few bones were ok, right? I would even make sure not to cause any permanent injury to him.

"Hey, hey, chill!" he said, raising both hands, panic creeping onto his face.

But the infuriating smirk returned. "At least, I am sure you do feel lighter."

You little—

And just like that, I laughed. Freely. Fully. The kind of laugh I hadn't felt in what felt like ages.

He laughed with me.

Again, I felt something wet on my cheeks. But this time, they weren't tears of sorrow. They were… relief. Joy.

I leaned and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, stranger."

"Heh, no problem, stranger," he whispered, his hand gently running across my back like he was reminding me he was still there.

After calming down, we talked again. This time, he told me about himself. Like me, he didn't tell me his name, but what had happened to him recently. The thug who pointed his gun at him, the corrupt cop, being forced to deliver drugs for a gang.

Rage boiled inside me.

Every kill I had made until now was on someone else's order. But this time? This time, I wanted to kill. For him. He didn't deserve all that. But maybe he was concerned for me, so he didn't tell me any names.

"No big deal," he shrugged after telling me. "Like I said, if you can't control something, enjoy it. I can't control my circumstances, so there's no point in sulking. Biding my time until the right moment to flip the table is much better. Till then, I will enjoy life," he said with a carefree tone.

He said it as if it were obvious. Easy. Like he hadn't just told me, he was walking a daily tightrope with death on both ends.

He was younger than I. But damn… he acted more like an adult than I ever had. 

And were his circumstances any less than mine? No, they weren't.

Yes, I was turned into a puppet to do heinous things against my will, but my life was still not in danger. But him. Even though he downplayed it, I could tell he was constantly afraid. Afraid that someday those gang members or the corrupt cop would deem him useless, and then he would be thrown away, killed, and discarded like trash. And despite that, he had to play his part as an obedient delivery mule.

Still… he smiled.

Still… he helped me.

Still… he made me laugh.

As he cracked some goofy joke just to see me smile again, I didn't laugh.

I just looked at him. Quietly.

And wondered…

Where the hell did someone like him get that kind of strength?

…

It was already late, so after talking for some time, we returned to where it had all started. We arrived at the familiar alley and stood before the familiar dumpster.

He pried open the lid of the dumpster and took out the bound thug, who was already conscious and struggling fiercely. It might be because the thug was struggling too much, so he only took him out halfway, such that the thug's legs were still caught between the dumpster and the lid, which was back down.

Then he turned to me.

"So, this is it, huh?" I asked, feeling reluctant to let him go.

He replied with a smile, "Yes, this is it."

We just quietly looked at each other's eyes.

I wanted to say so much more, and there were many things I wanted to do and experience together. But all I could do was stand there.

"Mmhh, mmhh," the gagged thug whimpered and struggled as he looked at me. I barely looked at the thug's pleading look and looked back at the stranger.

In just a day, he felt so close to him. He made me feel human for a few hours in a life where I forgot what that meant.

"Mmhh, mmhh," the thug tried to crawl out desperately to run away from me, but was unsuccessful as his leg was still under the dumpster lid. Couldn't this fucker just fucking keep it down? I felt more irritated, but I turned back to the stranger.

I didn't want to let him go. Would we ever meet again?

"MMHH, MMHH, MMHH," the thug whimpered even more loudly.

"WILL YOU FUCKING KEEP IT DOWN? YOU ARE INTERRUPTING MY TIME WITH HIM," I snapped and crushed the thug's head with a stomp.

The alley fell into blissful silence.

I looked up to see him smiling at me, and I felt embarrassed by what I had just said in anger.

I gave up thinking and leaned in for the goodbye, which I desperately hoped would not be our last.

I kissed him on the lips. The kiss was short but sweet.

"Goodbye, stranger. Hope we meet again," I said.

"Goodbye, stranger," he replied.

Finally, I turned around and left.

That was for the best for us now. There was still a sword named Zebediah Kilgrave hanging above my neck, and I didn't want the stranger to be hurt because of me.

— Kevin —

Successfully convinced Jessica to go against her normal way of doing things.

Charisma Level Up (F1->F2)

Art of Persuasion Mission Activated

Mission: Art of Persuasion

Description: Successfully charm, influence, convince, manipulate, or intimidate individuals to get desired outcomes

Objective 1: Persuade 20 individuals to get desired outcomes

Reward: Charisma (F+)

Objective 2: Persuade 50 individuals to get desired outcomes

Reward: Passive Skill: Silver Tongue (Higher success rate for persuasion attempts)

Objective 3: Persuade 100 individuals to get desired outcomes

Reward: Charisma (E-)

Nice. I would have been offended if the system hadn't rewarded me for today.

All in all, it was a productive day. I unlocked a new mission, helped a superhuman through an emotional crisis, and rode around in a taxi with my body screaming in pain. Worth it.

I knew Jessica's real nature. She would let me go if she found out I was merely at the wrong place at the wrong time. Initially, I planned to walk away once she let me go. I'd already survived, hadn't I?

But after a few steps, I paused.

It was extremely fortunate for me to meet Jessica in that way. I didn't even know when I would get a chance to meet her again.

I wanted Jessica for two reasons. First, for the same reason Kilgrave wanted her —a killer and a plaything wrapped in one. She had the aptitude to be a great enforcer. And second, with her, it would be easier to get Kara, too.

But it was extremely dangerous to get Jessica. I even thought it might be a good idea to drop the idea or try to get her some other time, some other way.

But then I remembered my heist with Felicia and my recent bout with those gang members. I wanted to play life comfortably in easy mode, but forgot that my life was hard-wired to hell mode.

Ultimately, it came down to risk and reward once again. So, once again, I took a risk and turned back to her.

If, following the original timeline, when Jessica would get out of Zebediah's control, she would be a broken mess. I didn't want that.

Moreover, even though she was morally grey after the incident, she remained righteous. I didn't want that, too.

So, I had to protect her and corrupt her at the same time. I considered the best method that would enable me to complete both goals simultaneously.

It is said that girls in true love would do anything for their lovers. 

Usually, each time Jessica killed someone, she felt either disgust or numbness. Even against criminals, she still thought they should be punished by law.

Poor Jessica. She didn't even realize that she didn't feel any of those emotions when she killed that last thug, only annoyance because he was disturbing her moment with me. She killed not because of her orders but because of me. And the best part was that she did it subconsciously. Consciously, she was merely doing the job she was forced to do.

It would be fun to rebuild her from the ground up. By the time she was free of Zebediah's control, she would be my permanently loyal enforcer and wouldn't hesitate to execute any order I would give her.

It was time to go home, but before that, let's meet our peeper. She wasn't so great at hiding; she thought she was. When Jessica kissed me, I noticed her hiding in the corner. Let's go say hello to her.

— Kara —

What was he doing with her? Why was he having fun with her? Why was he kissing her?

I saw them together in the park at night, sitting so close. When they left, I hurriedly took a cab to follow them. Then they kissed in the deserted alley. Why?

Didn't he say he would be my friend? Did he also want to betray me like my father?

And why was it the same woman in each case? First, it was my heartless father who replaced my mother with that woman, and now he had also replaced me with that woman.

That woman felt like a bane of my existence.

"Don't know peeping is bad?"

I suddenly turned around and saw Kevin looking at me with a teasing smile.

"You! Who is she? Why did you kiss her?" I asked without thinking.

"Aww, are you jealous? Didn't know you were the possessive type? And we didn't even confess yet," Kevin said with a teasing smirk.

I finally realized that my questions made me sound like a jealous girlfriend. I suddenly felt embarrassed that I didn't know what to say.

"Who is jealous? I am jealous of anyone," I said, a bit too strongly. He could see my defensive reply a mile away, but I was not backing down.

"Oh. Then why did you start interrogating me as a crime suspect?" he asked, still maintaining that teasing smile.

This bastard loved making fun of me. And I couldn't counter his questions.

 "Stop going in circles. Tell me, who is that woman? What is your relation with her?" I asked seriously. I was not letting him lead me in circles. I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.

I didn't want to lose my only friend, but I wanted answers.

"You know who she is, don't you?" He asked seriously. The previous teasing was no longer present on his face.

"..."

"Kara, answer me," he demanded, looking directly into my eyes. I decided to tell him everything.

Yes, I knew Jessica. How could I not know her? Because of her, my man-whore of a father, who couldn't stay with one girl for more than a week, had stayed obsessed with her for months. Of course, he must have replaced me and my mother with that bitch.

I hated that bitch.

Kevin listened to my story without interruptions. 

"I don't want to lose you. My father replaced me. What if you also replace me with her?" I asked with sadness. I looked at him to see his reaction.

"Don't worry. Why would I leave you? You're my dear friend—just like Jessica," he said sincerely, genuinely meaning it. But why did I feel a flicker of disappointment when I heard that?

"You promise?" I asked. I didn't want to lose my only friend.

"Promise," he replied with a smile.

Then, he looked a bit sad.

"Jessica's life is also not good," he started with a sad sigh. "It might look like she replaced your and your mother's position in your father's heart, but if you find out what she has gone through and is still going through, you may hate her less."

Then he told me what Jessica had told him. I couldn't believe my ears. I didn't want to believe that my father would do such a disgusting thing. I wanted to shout and deny whatever he was saying.

But the sadness on his face looked so real. I had seen with my own eyes how she killed that thug, killing him so emotionlessly, which I previously ignored as I focused more on the fact that Kevin kissed her. She must be numbed to the pain by now.

I stayed silent as I digested what Kevin told me.

After a pause, he said, "You know… this could actually be an opportunity."

My head snapped toward him. "What do you mean?"

He observed my expression, then said:

"Why don't you snatch Jessica for your father… and take her for yourself?"

"What?" I blinked. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't misunderstand," he said quickly, raising both hands. "I'm not saying you become your father. I'm saying—you rescue her. You use your powers to pull her out of his control."

I hesitated. "But I'd be mind-controlling her. Isn't that the same thing he's doing?"

Kevin leaned in slightly, voice calm but firm. "Is it really the same if you're doing it to save her?"

I wanted to snap back—but I paused. My fingers curled at my sides.

"She's already under his control, Kara. You'd just be interrupting it. You wouldn't be ruining her—you'd be giving her a way out. Maybe she can't fight back alone… but you can help."

It sounded right. Too right. And maybe that's what scared me.

"I don't know…" I muttered. "I don't want to hurt her. I don't want her to suffer more just because of me."

Kevin's voice softened. "You're not hurting her. You're freeing her."

I looked at him—something about those words stuck.

Wasn't that what I wanted? To help others? To do something? Maybe this wasn't revenge. Maybe this was me finally doing the right thing with everything I had.

I thought back to the helplessness I felt when my mother told me about my father. Finding out he didn't care about us and enjoyed a new girl every week. Watching him choose Jessica.

And now watching another fall victim to him, and her becoming hollow under his shadow.

Maybe I could stop that cycle.

"I'm not like him," I whispered, almost to myself. "I'm not."

Kevin nodded. "Exactly. That's why you're the only one who can do it."

Maybe I wasn't being selfish. Maybe I was just being smart, using what I had to fix what was broken.

And if it helped me feel whole again… if it gave me a little peace of mind back… maybe that wasn't a sin.

"I should help her," I said, this time with certainty. "Thanks, Kevin."

Kevin smiled. "That's what friends are for. And don't worry—you won't be doing it alone."

I didn't know what to say. So I didn't say anything. I just hugged him—tight.

Somewhere in a secret hideout in the city:

A man in a purple suit paced around anxiously. He was Zebediah Kilgrave.

Recently, he took a contract to finish an upcoming gang and sent his 'loyal' killer to do the job. She left in the afternoon; it was already late at night, and she was not back. She had never taken so much time to complete any mission before.

'Did she somehow get out of my control? But how is that possible?' He thought while pacing anxiously.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening as a woman in purple clothes entered. She was Jessica Jones—his 'loyal' killer.

"What took you so long? Where were you?" Zebedia barked as soon as he saw Jessica.

Jessica already knew how to handle his outburst and replied flatly, "One of the thugs ran away. It took a while to find him."

Zebediah stared at her without blinking. He felt something was amiss, but one of the first orders he gave her was to be truthful, so he didn't think she lied.

But looking at her, he felt she looked different. Physically, she looked the same, but her aura felt different.

Zebedia felt a knot in his stomach. He felt that Jessica might be slipping out of his control. Still, he brushed it off. His pride wouldn't let him accept the possibility that she might be slipping away. No. She was his. Always had been. Always would be.

'Whatever it is, I should still show that she belongs to me, and any thoughts of freedom are futile,' Zebediah thought as he decided to show her that she belonged to him.

He sank onto a sofa and ordered with an arrogant smirk, "Strip and slowly crawl to me."

Jessica's body responded on its own. Clothes hit the floor. Her knees met the ground.

Even if she showed a disgusted expression, her body still moved. Zebediah especially liked to see her aversion while her body listened to his orders.

A memory suddenly echoed in her mind:

"Sometimes, if we can't control something, it's better to enjoy it."

And just like that, it wasn't his control anymore.

Suddenly, her body relaxed, and the movements that felt mechanical before became fluid. She chose to crawl.

Her hips swayed—not because he told her to—but because she allowed it. Because she played along.

Her body language gradually changed from reluctant to seductive as she covered the distance.

Zebediah once again felt something was amiss as he looked at her change, but all such thoughts left his mind as she reached him and removed his pants.

'I don't know when we will meet again, but till then, let me imagine that it will be you who will violate me,' Jessica thought as she looked at Zebediah's dick.

'I will enjoy it until it is finally time to flip the table,' Jessica thought as she leaned in and took him in.

*********************

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