Villain In MCU

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"There's also a set of postal uniforms in the car. If you need anything else, let me know."

Franklin shook his head, "No, thank you."

This kind of task doesn't require much technical skill—what it requires is the courage to face death.

"You're welcome, good luck!"

The man patted Franklin on the shoulder and left.

After changing his clothes, Franklin silently encouraged himself, then got into the postal vehicle and drove toward the police headquarters.

It was 9 o'clock in the morning, the busiest time for the police station.

The postal vehicle slowly stopped in the parking space. Franklin got out, opened the compartment, and slowly carried the package out.

At that moment, a yawning police officer approached and asked, "Hey! What is this?"

Franklin glanced at him and said calmly, "What else could it be other than a package?"

The officer glanced at it and frowned, "I need to check it."

For a moment, Franklin's expression shifted slightly in panic, but the officer was focused on the package and didn't notice the change.

"Please."

Franklin squatted down, placed the package on the ground, and his right hand quietly reached into his pocket.

The officer was about to open the package when he saw the recipient's name.

It was the police chief's name.

The officer froze for a moment. He thought it over, stood up, and shook his head, "Forget it, I won't check it. You can come in with me."

"Okay."

Franklin secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but his face remained expressionless.

There was a crowd in front of the New York Police Headquarters, with officers constantly coming in and out.

After the package containing explosives passed the security inspection, Franklin, holding it, followed the officer to the designated location to have it signed for.

After the officer signed his name, Franklin calmly returned to the car and drove away.

10 meters, 30 meters, 50 meters, 100 meters...

After retreating to a sufficient distance, Franklin took out the detonator, opened the safety cover, and pressed the red button hard.

Boom!

A huge ball of fire erupted at the magnificent New York Police Department headquarters, followed by a deafening explosion.

The merciless fire consumed everything and everyone in the first-floor lobby, then shattered the glass doors and windows, rushing toward the surrounding roads.

The violent shockwave caused by the explosion sent everyone in the hall flying into pieces. A bloody rain mixed with minced flesh poured down, and the police station hall was instantly transformed into a horrifying scene of hell.

One hundred meters away, innocent passersby, drawn by the explosion, turned back to look at the police station.

But the next moment, they were knocked to the ground and fainted by the shockwave.

Franklin was more than 200 meters away, but he still felt pain in his eardrums, and the ground beneath his feet shook.

He got out of the car and looked into the distance.

A raging fire had engulfed the police station headquarters, with thick smoke billowing in all directions, seemingly turning the sky black.

"Oh my God!"

"Oh my God! What on earth happened at the police station?"

"There have been a series of explosions in just a few weeks. What is going on in New York?"

Passersby stood stunned, talking to themselves as they watched the thick smoke rise into the sky.

Success!

Franklin's face lit up with ecstasy, and he couldn't help but pump his fist in excitement, his sense of accomplishment overwhelming him.

With so many people killed and injured in the explosion, the federal government must now be taking Jason's case very seriously. As long as I keep pushing, maybe the boss will have a chance to be released from prison.

Franklin drove the car to a remote alley, ignited gasoline to burn all the evidence, and left a note for the federal government.

A few hours earlier, Long Island Prison in New York.

Jason sat on the iron interrogation chair, a smug smile on his face.

Just moments ago, a senior federal official had sat across from him, using various threats and inducements in an attempt to get him to reveal what he knew.

Unexpectedly, Jason used his ancestral persuasion skills to blast the bald official to the point where the man began doubting himself, his anger rising. Finally, he slammed the table and stormed out.

Jason had been in the interrogation room almost every day since his imprisonment.

He was a celebrity in New York. Every day, forty or fifty visitors made appointments to meet him. If you arrived late, you might have to wait in line.

Among these visitors were high-ranking police officials trying to extract information.

There was also a sociologist trying to understand his childhood and family background, attempting to verify how family influences a child's future.

A psychiatrist wanted to explore his spiritual world through conversation.

Even a lawyer wanted to gain fame by helping him sue the federal government, even claiming to defend his innocence.

These people wanted to interview Jason for various reasons, but the common thread was that no one could last more than half an hour under Jason's persuasion.

The door of the interrogation room opened, and Daniel walked in, his face grim.

Jason licked his dry lips and asked, "Is there any water? I'm thirsty."

"I've been talking too much lately, and my mouth is dry."

Daniel picked up the paper cup on the table, looked at Jason, and slowly drank the water himself.

He rinsed his mouth vigorously, then spat the water into the cup and handed it to Jason, "Drink it."

Jason leaned back in his chair and looked at him with disdain.

Because Jason was injured, Daniel didn't dare to resort to lynching and had to rely on more petty and demeaning methods to torment him.

For example, spitting in his food.

Or waking him in the middle of the night, deliberately preventing him from sleeping well.

Apart from these minor tortures, this violent warden, whose mind was fixated on beating and killing, couldn't think of anything more effective.

Daniel, angered, splashed water on Jason's face, grabbed his hair, and yelled.

"Little bastard, you've been so arrogant lately. Do you think this is your doghouse?"

"This is Long Island Prison. I am the warden! All prisoners must obey my orders!"

"Don't even talk about drinking mouthwash. If I tell you to eat shit, you better lick it clean!"

He then lifted the iron interrogation chair and forced Jason onto his back.

Taking out a towel from his pocket, he covered Jason's face, then picked up the kettle on the table and poured water over the towel.

"You little bastard, you think you're so tough? I'll let you experience waterboarding."

Waterboarding is a form of torture that originated in ancient Babylonia. It simulates drowning and suffocates the victim. After thousands of years of refinement, it has become a common interrogation method used by violent agencies in the United States.

According to official data, 80% of people subjected to waterboarding will break, while the remaining 20% are tortured to death.

A minute later, Jason ran out of oxygen and began choking on water.

He flailed his hands and kicked his feet, his expression one of extreme agony.

Two minutes later, the intensity of the flailing and kicking increased.

Blood began to pour from his eyes, nostrils, and mouth.

Three minutes later, Jason began convulsing.

Just when he was on the verge of losing consciousness, Daniel stopped the torture, overturning the chair to the ground.

"Cough! Cough! Cough!"

Jason lay on the floor, coughing violently as if trying to expel his entire lung.

Daniel put the kettle away, squatted down, and threatened.

"Listen, little bastard. This visitor is no ordinary person. You'd better shut up and cooperate, or I'll give you a taste of waterboarding every day."

After that, Daniel pushed the door open and walked out.

He instructed the prison guard to clean up the interrogation room, then headed to the office building to meet this special visitor.

The Warden's Office.

A beautiful woman in a white coat sat at a chair, quietly reviewing the information. Jason's photo was on the first page of the file.

With blonde hair, blue eyes, a tall figure, and wearing black-framed glasses, she exuded intelligence and wisdom.

Daniel knocked gently on the door, and after receiving permission, he pushed it open and entered.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Dr. Harleen Quinzel!"

Seeing Harleen's stunningly beautiful face, Daniel's heart raced, and he even stuttered in his speech.

"Harleen… the prisoner you're meeting today is just an arrogant murderer. He's not worth much research. I think you can change prisoners, or I can buy you lunch."

Harleen Quinzel was an authority on criminal psychology in New York and a specially appointed psychological consultant for high-risk prisoners at Long Island Prison.

Harleen stood up, flashed a charming smile, and shook her head playfully, "Sorry, Daniel. Talking to patients is my job. And I don't think Jason Walter is just an ordinary murderer."

"His irrational and extremely erratic thinking logic is a treasure for psychology. I want to understand his mental structure and uncover the secrets within."

"You're quite a strong woman!" Daniel shrugged, hiding his disappointment, "Let's go, the interrogation room's been cleaned."

Arriving at the interrogation room door, Daniel asked with concern, "Ms. Harleen, the prisoners inside have serious violent tendencies. You may be in danger alone. Do you need me to accompany you?"

Harleen shook her head and said, "The prisoners are all chained up. Besides, with you, the warden, accompanying them, how can the prisoners open up to me?"

She pulled a device from her handbag and waved it in front of Daniel.

"As before, make sure to turn off all surveillance cameras, including hidden ones."

"Okay, I'm fully convinced."

Seeing she had brought the laser tester, Daniel could only smile and nod in agreement.