Chapter 143: Item: TARS-38604
After days of investigation, Jessica had finally pieced together the rough picture behind Ed's mysterious disappearance.
It all started when Mason Industries tried to transport a device—one so dubious in legality and nature that it couldn't go through official channels. Instead, they turned to smugglers, offering them a hefty sum to move the goods under the radar.
From what Jessica had gathered, it wasn't just her landlord's nephew who'd vanished—every single person involved in this smuggling job had disappeared without a trace.
And Jessica, being who she was, always prepared for the worst. Her gut told her this case was bigger than it looked. Perhaps the device was so important—so dangerous—that the people behind it had broken all the unspoken rules and silenced everyone involved, permanently.
Michael, her usual informant, agreed. He believed Mason Industries had plenty of skeletons in its closet. After all, wasn't their rise to power far too smooth?
In just four years, Gene Mason had turned nothing into a technological empire. And any obstacle that came his way? Gone—mysteriously. Like Norman Osborn, the CEO of Oscorp. He had clashed with Gene... and not long after, he was found dead in his home from what was officially described as a "gas explosion." There were rumors, of course—that Norman had been the Green Goblin.
And that was just one example. The list was long.
Jessica wasn't new to the shadows of society. She'd seen enough to know the world wasn't as clean as it pretended to be. Still, she never abandoned a case. No matter how bizarre, no matter how deep the rabbit hole went, if she took a job—she finished it. That was her code.
Michael had told her the goods—whatever they were—were supposed to land at a specific dock in New York. That's where she was now.
The docks were pitch black, swallowing every sliver of light like a hungry beast. The air was damp and cold, making her shiver as she pulled her jacket tighter.
"Well... at least they know how to make an entrance," she muttered, squinting at the containers. Her eyes locked on one.
A container, its paint scratched and faded, still faintly bore the letters: MASON INDUSTRY.
"Bingo," Jessica said with a snap of her fingers.
She circled the container, scanning for a weak spot. Then, without hesitation, she went straight to the front doors. With a grunt, she dug her fingers in and tore the metal doors open with her brute strength.
Inside was a single, ominous-looking black box. It stood nearly three meters tall and two meters wide. Written in bold white letters across the front was:
TARS-38604
"So this... is what Mason Industries went to all this trouble to smuggle?" Jessica murmured, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Then—footsteps.
Quiet at first, but steady. Someone was coming.
Jessica turned sharply, spotting a group of silhouettes emerging from the shadows, and every one of them radiated hostile intent.
"Great," she sighed. Then she raised her hands and took a step forward. "Hey, I think I'm lost. Can you fine folks point me to 10th Avenue?"
As soon as she was in striking distance, she lashed out with a powerful punch.
She had expected to knock them flat and sort the rest out afterward. But her punch didn't land—it was caught.
Caught. With a slap-like snap, her fist was stopped mid-swing.
Under the dim streetlight, she got a good look at the man who blocked her. Her eyes widened.
It was Ed. The same Ed she had been hired to find.
Only now... something was off. His eyes shimmered with a faint purple glow, and his demeanor was unnerving.
Jessica knew exactly how much power her punches carried. She could bend steel. If Ed caught that with ease, it meant...
Either her landlord had been lying about Ed, or Ed had become something else. Something dangerous.
While she stood there, stunned, Ed's foot shot forward, landing a solid blow to her stomach. The impact lifted her off the ground and sent her flying.
Pain exploded in her ribs.
"Okay," Jessica grunted, dragging herself upright. "Looks like you boys wanna play rough."
No more talk. She launched herself at a tall Black man in the group. With a whip-like motion, her legs cracked against his side, strong enough to crumple a car door. Yet... he didn't react. Not even a wince. It was like he couldn't feel pain.
Weirded out, she adjusted on the fly. Wrapping her arms around him, she lifted him off the ground and slammed him into the concrete.
The ground shook. The man was out cold.
But Jessica had no time to gloat. A follow-up blow from Ed crushed into her ribs. She felt something give—bone, maybe more.
It didn't stop her.
If anything, it made her angrier.
Her eyes hardened. No more holding back.
She unleashed the full extent of her strength—her monstrous, car-flipping power. The fight turned brutal and desperate. One by one, the attackers fell.
Minutes later, she stood among a pile of unconscious bodies, panting and holding her side. Blood was seeping beneath her jacket.
She had won—but barely.
And for the first time in a long while, Jessica Jones questioned whether she was in over her head. This job—this damn case—was way bigger than she'd thought. She considered giving up. Just walk away. After all, she had found Ed, hadn't she?
Even if he looked like he'd just taken a nose-dive into a vat of meth.
And just as Jessica tried to decide what to do next—
Something happened.
Something unexpected.
Something worse.
And Jessica realized—this mess was just getting started.
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