Villain In MCU

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Franklin was stunned, unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed.

The New York DEA director?

This psychopath had just been having sex in front of them!

How could such a scumbag enter the Narcotics Enforcement Bureau? And he's the director, no less! Franklin's already fragile worldview was utterly shattered.

Seizing the moment while communication was still possible, Franklin quickly asked, "Why did you save us?"

Stan spread his hands and replied, "The reason is simple. I'm a huge admirer of Jason. I want to join him and pull off a truly shocking crime together."

"That's a ridiculous reason," Franklin retorted, conveniently forgetting that his own motivation for joining Jason had been equally absurd.

"So, since I saved you, can I join you?" Stan asked sincerely.

Jason grinned, opening his arms wide. "Welcome aboard!"

[Ding! The evil accomplice has been successfully recruited.]

[Partner: Norman Stanfield]

[Source: Leon: The Professional]

[Abilities: Music Proficiency (Level 2), Driving Proficiency (Level 3), Firearms Proficiency (Level 4), Special Operations (Level 3)]

Jason lay weakly on the sofa in the living room, his body still recovering from the severe blood loss he had suffered during the recent life-and-death battle. He draped a newspaper over his face and closed his eyes to rest.

Stan, noticing this, turned off the Beethoven piano music playing on his phone to avoid disturbing him.

At that moment, Franklin, still harboring some resentment toward Stan, walked over and whispered, "Hey, buddy, welcome aboard. Even though you're the director of the New York DEA and hold a high position, I joined the boss before you did. That makes me his first disciple. According to the rules of the underworld, you're my junior, so you'd better show me some respect."

Stan stared at him, expressionless, as if trying to discern whether Franklin was joking. After a moment, he burst into laughter. "Respect you? Do you even deserve it?"

Franklin's face twisted with anger. If he hadn't been worried about disturbing Jason's rest, he might have taught this arrogant newcomer a lesson.

Stan glanced at him with disdain. "You know, it's because of your stupidity that Jason got hurt so badly. And you still have the audacity to call yourself his senior?"

Franklin's face darkened. "You'd better clarify what you mean, or I'll make you regret it."

Stan sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. Let me spell it out for you."

"You thieves leave traces when you steal cars—marks that are as unique as fingerprints. Last night, the police sent the Honda S2000 from the crime scene to the Trace Examination Department. They found evidence linking your methods to the vehicle's door and ignition switch. That's how they connected you and Jason."

Franklin's head drooped as Stan continued.

"The police also analyzed your call records from the past three months and discovered frequent contact with an unfamiliar number recently. On top of that, your aunt Denise's sudden spree of high-end purchases—Dior cosmetics, Michelin restaurant dinners—raised suspicions. Her spending doesn't match her income level."

Stan's voice grew sharper. "Early this morning, the police detained Denise while she was jogging. She revealed that a stranger had moved into her home. Based on her description, the man's appearance didn't match Jason's, but his height and build were identical. This led the police to conclude that Jason had disguised himself and hidden in your house."

Stan's glare intensified. "At this point, their investigation was solid. But they didn't anticipate a gang informant among the top brass. This mole disrupted the investigation, provided false intel, and delayed police action by three hours—time that Madam Gao used to send assassins after Jason. And yet, you still dare call yourself his first disciple?"

Franklin's expression turned from frustration to despair. He had only been with Jason for a short time, yet his mistakes had nearly gotten him killed—twice.

Jason's voice suddenly cut through the tension. "That's enough!"

He sat up on the sofa, his eyes sharp. "We're all in this together. I don't expect you to be family, but I won't tolerate petty arguments over past mistakes."

Stan raised his hands in mock innocence. "Boss, I'm not arguing. I'm just laying out the facts so Franklin can learn from his errors."

Jason snorted. "If you're so eager to teach lessons, why don't you focus on what's next?"

Stan's eyes gleamed. "You're planning to take revenge on Madam Gao, aren't you?"

Jason nodded. "Exactly."

Stan grinned. "Do you know where her factory is?"

"Yes. It's in Hell's Kitchen. I've been there a few times."

Stan clapped his hands. "Perfect. I can send my men to destroy her factory and have her arrested. Then she'll be at your mercy."

Jason shook his head. "First, choose your words more carefully. Second, Madam Gao has hundreds of loyal gangsters and dozens of allies. The DEA alone can't handle her."

Stan straightened his posture. "Boss, you're underestimating the DEA. Our power isn't limited to a few agents. The DEA has FAST—a special task force that operates with impunity. If necessary, we can even call in the Marines. Madam Gao's gang is formidable, but it's no match for military-grade firepower."

Jason's eyes lit up with newfound understanding. "I didn't realize the DEA had such reach. With FAST and the Marines backing us, Madam Gao doesn't stand a chance."

Thinking of Madam Gao's inevitable downfall, Jason's excitement grew. "We'll strike tonight. Before she realizes what's happening, her empire will be in ruins."

Stan smiled calmly. "No problem, Boss. Just get some rest. By morning, it'll all be over."

Jason shook his head. "No. I must be part of the operation. I need to take her down myself."

Stan paused, then nodded thoughtfully. "Fine. We'll suit you up as part of the SWAT team. With your face covered, no one will know who you are."

Jason's grin returned. "Good. Let's get ready. Tonight, we end this."

Jason moved his arm to signal that his injury was not serious.

"Since I started my career as a gangster, getting hurt and bleeding is as common to me as eating and drinking. As long as I can take down that old witch, this injury is nothing."

"Okay, Boss. I'll go back and make the arrangements right away."

Seeing his determination, Stan said no more.

As Stan reached the door, he paused, turned back, and said, "By the way, this house is a safe spot for our Drug Enforcement Bureau. You can stay here without worry. As long as this black guy doesn't do anything stupid, no one will dare to investigate us."

Franklin's face darkened, and he raised his middle finger in defiance. "FUCK YOU!"

Stan shook his head, smirking, before pushing the door open and walking out.

"Boss, since we have an operation tonight, you should take this time to rest up. I'll make you lunch."

Franklin helped Jason into the bedroom and laid him down, then went to the kitchen to start cooking.

After lunch, Jason turned off the lights and rested to recharge his energy for tonight's mission.

The sun set, and the sky grew darker.

After a good sleep, Jason looked much better.

When he walked out of the room, Stan, dressed in a police uniform, was sitting on the sofa, staring at Franklin.

Seeing Jason come out, Stan stood up and greeted him, then pointed to the suitcase on the floor. "Boss, I brought the police combat uniform and weapons. We can head out once you change."

Jason wasted no time. He grabbed the suitcase and walked into the bedroom to change.

Two minutes later, a fully armed SWAT officer emerged from the room.

Franklin's eyes widened in awe. "Shit! I know he's the boss, but this is still a little intimidating. Am I allergic to this outfit?"

Stan scoffed and exposed him mercilessly. "You're not allergic; you're just a coward."

A DEA police car was parked outside the tenement building.

Jason and Stan got into the car, activated the siren, and drove toward the New York DEA headquarters.

[Ding! Triggering the mission [Revenge of the Villain]. Mission reward: 2,000 Villain Points.]

[Mission details: As a great villain, revenge is your principle. Destroy Mrs. Gao's factory and make her pay for her stupidity.]

It is said that it is a mouse's nature to fear cats, and Jason believed it.

He had felt uneasy ever since getting into the police car.

When they drove into the DEA headquarters, every hair on his body stood on end.

The car pulled into the underground parking lot of the Drug Enforcement Administration. Jason stepped out and surveyed his surroundings, on high alert.

The New York DEA headquarters was a towering high-rise covering more than 5,000 square meters.

As the most powerful law enforcement agency of the federal government, every corner of the building exuded majesty and grandeur, making Jason even more anxious.

Stan parked the car, walked over, and tried to reassure him. "You're now the special detective for the Director of the DEA. No one dares touch you. Relax."

Jason's eyes widened with realization.

Yes, the director of the DEA is my younger brother, and this building is essentially my backyard. Why should I be afraid?

Understanding that calmed his nerves somewhat.

"Alright, let's go!"

The second basement floor of the DEA headquarters was originally an underground parking lot but had been converted into a temporary command post for the special operations team.

A square conference table stood at the center, surrounded by more than 20 computers forming a monitoring network that tracked the main roads near Mrs. Gao's factory.

Twenty SWAT armored vehicles were lined up in a row, with five fully armed SWAT officers stationed on both sides of each vehicle.

"Stan, everyone's here. We're just waiting for you," said Stan's assistant as they exited the elevator.

He looked at Jason, now clad in a SWAT uniform, and asked, "Who's this?"

"John, my special detective," Stan replied before shifting the conversation. "Has the area around the factory been secured?"

"We established control three hours ago," the assistant confirmed.

"Good. Any movement at the factory?"

"Yes. Since this afternoon, Mrs. Gao's gangs have been gathering at the factory. They go in, but no one comes out. The total number of gang members has surpassed 200."

"Hmph!" Stan sneered. "A bunch of idiots who think safety lies in numbers. Any updates from the military?"

"Just got a reply. Three transport helicopters are en route and will arrive in 20 minutes."

"Good. You stay here and monitor the perimeter. I'll handle on-site command. Let's get moving!"

The combat order was given, and 100 special police officers quickly boarded the armored vehicles. The engines roared to life as they rolled out of the parking lot.

Stan took Jason up to the top floor, where a police helicopter was waiting.

Once they boarded, the helicopter slowly took off, heading swiftly toward Hell's Kitchen.