Villain In MCU

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The shrill sirens wailed as the escort convoy sped toward Long Island Prison.

Long Island Prison is located in Suffolk County, New York, with the sea to the east and Brooklyn and Queens to the west.

The prison was built in the 1980s and has the overall appearance of a fortress.

In addition to basic facilities such as guard towers and exercise yards, the fortress contains two main buildings—one large and one small.

The smaller one is the office building, where the prison's middle and senior management work.

The larger building is the prison block, which houses 500 individual cells, where prisoners convicted of heinous crimes are held.

If you're a robber or murderer with several lives on your hands, you're not qualified to be imprisoned in Long Island Prison.

The convoy arrived smoothly without any hindrance, and the prison break that the investigation team had feared did not occur.

After verifying their identities, the prison's iron gates opened, allowing the convoy to drive directly inside, where they arrived at the entrance of the prison building.

A tall, shaggy black man was waiting at the door, smoking a cigar.

The three directors approached him together, "Daniel, we're sorry to trouble you during this time."

Daniel, the warden of Long Island Prison, removed the cigar from his mouth and said in a hoarse voice, "No trouble at all. It's been a while since we've had a newcomer. It's a good opportunity for me to have some fun."

The back door of the escort vehicle opened, and the SWAT team pushed Jason inside, taking him directly into the prison building.

Long Island Prison houses only the most dangerous criminals, all of whom are difficult to control.

To prevent prisoners from fighting each other, each inmate is held in an individual ten-square-meter cell, with no close contact even during exercise periods.

As Jason entered, the prisoners on the lower floors became instantly excited, banging on their doors and shaking the bars.

"Hey! What's this guy in for?"

"This guy's kinda handsome. He's my type."

"Hey, cop! When's the next bath time?"

The prisoners were used to the usual noise, and the guards led Jason straight to the elevator.

"Oh my god! They're actually going upstairs!"

"How is this possible? I've killed over 30 people in Vegas and couldn't even get to the second floor. This guy's more dangerous than me!"

"Jason! Is that really him?"

"Oh my god, it really is him!"

"Isn't Jason the Kingpin's disciple? He's here too?"

"Jason! You beast! Hahaha! God help me, I'll kill you!"

Jason was well-known in the underworld, and many prisoners in Long Island Prison had dealings with him. In fact, many were eager to kill him.

They took the elevator to the top floor, the fifth floor, which housed far fewer prisoners than the lower levels.

It was much quieter here, quieter than a library.

Jason's arrival didn't attract much attention. The prisoners gave him a quick glance before returning to their own worlds.

Of course, there were exceptions.

"Hey-hey!"

A muscular man was lying near the door, staring at Jason with creepy eyes.

Warden Daniel gave a casual introduction, "This is Billy. He's an excellent pharmacist. His favorite hobby outside of work? Torture."

"Beating, skinning people alive, injecting drugs... He knew how to make someone die slowly and painfully. By the time he was caught, he already had over a hundred victims."

Daniel grinned mischievously, "He seems quite interested in you. Maybe you two can be neighbors. You might find common ground."

A prison guard stepped forward to open the cell next to Billy.

The New York Police Commissioner, who was following, quickly stepped up to stop him, "Don't lock him in there for now. We need to interrogate Jason immediately."

The guard looked up, seeking Daniel's approval.

Daniel exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and nodded in agreement.

At the interrogation room on the fifth floor, Jason was shackled to a special iron chair, his limbs and neck bound with chains.

The four officers entered one by one and took their seats across from him.

"Stan, you were so eager last time at the hospital. You go first this time."

Stan didn't hesitate and demanded, "Jason! Tell me everything you know!"

Jason looked at him and smiled without saying a word.

Stan continued, "You've seen the conditions at Long Island Prison. It's a secure place with strong guards. Don't even think about escaping. This is where you'll stay for the rest of your life."

Jason calmly responded, "If that's the case, why should I tell you anything?"

Stan glanced at Daniel and offered, "If you cooperate, I can ask Warden Daniel for an extra hour of exercise time and a private bathroom every day."

He leaned in, adding, "From what I hear, you have a lot of enemies in here. If you don't want to be beaten to death or have to pick up soap in a public bathroom, you might want to cooperate with us."

Before Stan could finish, Jason threw his head back and laughed wildly.

"Bunch of idiots! If you want information, come lick my toes like a puppy."

Jason's arrogant response made the faces of the four men across from him darken.

The New York Police Commissioner stood up and left the interrogation room.

With such strong resistance, it was clear that further questioning would be futile.

"Hmph!" Daniel slammed his hand on the table, "I'll bring out some torture tools and see if you're still in the mood to talk like that."

"Come on! Come quickly! I'm itching to get started!"

Daniel suddenly became furious, picking up a pair of tongs and readying them.

As the warden of Long Island Prison, Daniel was a god in this place. He had the right to abuse prisoners at will. No matter how cruel the inmates were, they feared him as though they were staring death in the face.

He didn't believe Jason would be any different.

"Pull out his nails first."

"Daniel! He's injured. It could cause serious complications if he gets worse."

Stan spoke quietly and walked out as well.

He was in an irritable mood and had no desire to sleep. All he wanted was to find a place to get drunk and let off some steam.

After getting into the car, his henchman asked, "Stan, should I take you home?"

Stan was about to name a bar but paused as Jason's words replayed in his mind. He quickly changed his instructions, "No, take me to the safe house in Queens."

At the safe house, Franklin paced anxiously in the living room. Three days had passed since Jason's arrest, yet he hadn't come up with a single plan to help him. Instead, he had spent most of the time sitting on the couch, watching TV in frustration.

"Franklin, it's me!"

Suddenly, Stan's voice echoed from the door.

Franklin rushed over, his face lighting up as he opened the door, "How's the boss? The news said he's been jailed. Is that true?"

Stan collapsed onto the sofa, grabbed a beer, and took a long gulp, "It's true. And not just any prison—it's a military fortress. There are fewer than 300 inmates, but over a thousand guards. Forget about breaking him out by force; it's impossible."

Franklin's hopeful expression faltered, "What do we do then? You're the director of the DEA! Isn't there anything you can do?"

Stan shook his head helplessly, "I'm the DEA director, not the Attorney General. I can't just snap my fingers and get someone released."

He hesitated before adding, "But Jason didn't seem worried at all. In fact, he said something…strange."

Stan relayed Jason's instructions word for word.

"Huh?" Franklin frowned, "He wants us to go out and stir up trouble in his name? What kind of logic is that?"

Anyone with common sense would find the idea absurd.

Franklin was silent for a moment before his face lit up, "I get it! The boss wants us to cause chaos and use it to pressure the government into releasing him."

Stan looked at him incredulously, "Have you been watching too many Hollywood movies? That kind of plot doesn't work in real life."

But Franklin wasn't listening. Convinced he had deciphered Jason's intentions, he exclaimed, "Yes, that's exactly it! We need to start planning right away."

Stan's lips twitched, but he held back his retort. Even though the idea was ridiculous, they had no better options.

He grabbed a piece of paper and started sketching a plan, "Jason said it has to be big, cruel, and attention-grabbing. A bomb attack in Times Square would definitely make headlines."

Franklin nodded but interjected, "I agree with the bomb attack, but I think we should target a different location."

"Where?"

Franklin smirked, "The NYPD Headquarters."

Stan sucked in a sharp breath, taking a step back. "You're insane!" He exclaimed, "The entire country's police force will be on high alert. Even if you flee to the ends of the earth, they'll hunt you down."

Franklin's gaze was unwavering, "So what? At worst, I'll end up in prison with the boss. That's a price I'm willing to pay."

Stan studied him for a moment, impressed despite himself, "You're loyal, I'll give you that."

"Alright, it's settled. The plan goes down tomorrow. I'll handle the preparations."

The next morning at eight, Franklin received a text from Stan confirming that everything was ready. The message directed him to an underground parking lot nearby.

Franklin disguised himself in sunglasses, a mask, and a baseball cap, ensuring he was unrecognizable before heading to the location.

In the lot, he spotted a van with a postal service logo.

As he approached, the van's door slid open, and two unfamiliar men stepped out.

Franklin stopped in his tracks, his guard up.

One of the men raised a hand in reassurance, "You're Franklin, right? Relax. We work for Stan."

"Where is Stan?" Franklin asked, still wary.

"Busy reporting to the prison. Until Jason talks, Stan and the other directors have to show up there daily."

Reassured, Franklin nodded, "Is everything ready?"

The man gestured to the van, pulling out a large package, "This is 10 kilograms of TNT. The blast radius is about 50 meters. You can imagine the destruction."

He continued, "The surface is coated with a special material to evade detection by optical or ion mobility spectrometer explosive detectors."

He then produced an oval detonator, pointing at a small safety cover, "The explosives are already armed. To detonate, push the safety cover open with your thumb and press the red button. That's it."