Emma Church stood quiet under the dim morning light, its stained glass windows casting soft colors across the worn wooden pews. Phil Coulson sat alone in the small hall, shoulders slightly slumped, a rare trace of exhaustion showing on his usually composed face. His hands were clasped together, not so much in devotion as in habit, as if mimicking prayer might steady the restless thoughts running through his mind.
He had come again, but not to see Rex Viper directly. This time, he wasn't here for answers—at least, not immediately. Instead, he sat in silence, waiting, hoping for clarity that refused to come. The Demon Face hadn't appeared in days, and Daredevil had been stationed on the rooftops like a constant shadow, watching over Hell's Kitchen. That alone should have been enough to conclude the mission.
Coulson had already decided he would wrap things up here. There were bigger priorities now, and the Black Chief had reassigned him. A new mission, urgent and dangerous, demanded his full attention.
Rumors had surfaced about a failed military experiment—something that had gone catastrophically wrong. The result was a massive, green-skinned creature with strength beyond conventional limits. Entire elite units had attempted to capture it and failed miserably. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't just a threat—it was a walking disaster.
The situation had been tightly controlled, buried under layers of classified reports and denials. The man responsible for the project, General Thaddeus Ross, had deliberately concealed the truth, locking down every piece of information he could.
But S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't operate on rumors alone. And when something this dangerous slipped through the cracks, they didn't wait for permission.
Director Nick Fury had made the call himself. Intervention was non-negotiable.
The assignment had landed squarely on Coulson's desk. As a Level 8 agent, he was expected to handle it personally. He would be flying to Brazil first thing in the morning, tracking down the target based on intelligence S.H.I.E.L.D. had managed to gather independently. The creature was believed to be hiding inside a beverage factory, a location even Ross didn't seem to know about.
To ensure success, Coulson had been given a specialized capture team—efficient, ruthless, and equipped with heavy tranquilizer weaponry. Oversized shotguns designed to drop elephants in seconds. Two shots to the back, and the target would be down for capture.
It sounded simple on paper. It rarely was.
And yet, despite the urgency of the mission, Coulson had returned here first. Because something about Rex Viper's words still lingered in his mind, unresolved and unsettling. He didn't want to leave with questions hanging over his head.
At the front of the church, Rex stood among the congregation, calmly leading the prayer. His voice carried steady and confident, giving nothing away. He had already noticed Coulson the moment he walked in, but made no effort to acknowledge him.
His attention was elsewhere.
The aftermath of the vampire blood feast still lingered in his mind, though not in the way most people would expect. Killing dozens of vampires had been… exhilarating. The surge of power had been immediate, almost addictive. His strength had nearly doubled, pushing him closer to something greater.
Since then, he had been actively hunting them with David's help. Vampires were efficient targets—easy to kill, clean to dispose of, and consistently rewarding. Compared to street thugs, they were worth far more.
As for Hell's Kitchen itself, Rex had largely stopped paying attention. The chaos there had become background noise.
When the prayer finally ended, Coulson felt his thoughts settle just enough to act. He stood up, straightened his suit, and approached Rex with a polite nod.
Rex greeted him warmly, a broad smile already in place. "Hey, Coulson. Ever since you guys from the Strategic Homeland Defense Attack and Logistics Agency showed up, this whole place has gotten a lot quieter."
Coulson opened his mouth to respond, but Rex didn't give him the chance.
"I heard the Demon Face hasn't shown up in days. That's got to be your doing, right?" Rex continued, his tone filled with admiration that felt just a little too deliberate.
Coulson hesitated, clearly about to deny it, but Rex pressed on without pause.
"I've got to say, you people are way better than those useless cops! Oh—God bless them, of course, I don't mean any disrespect—but let's be honest here. Before you arrived, this place was a nightmare."
His expression turned earnest, almost fervent, as he gestured around them.
"Murder, arson, drugs, robbery, assault—you name it. Honestly, I don't think even Satan would feel out of place here. It was a God-forsaken land. People were barely surviving, caught between life and death every single day."
Coulson's expression stiffened slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to interrupt but couldn't find the right moment.
"The fact that something like this could exist in America almost shook my faith," Rex continued, shaking his head. "But thanks to you, things are finally changing."
He looked at Coulson with open appreciation, as if delivering a heartfelt speech.
"You agents… you're like angels. Sure, it's your job to protect people, and maybe this place got overlooked for a while, but still—I want to thank you on behalf of everyone here."
Rex stepped forward and gave a solemn bow.
Coulson immediately broke into a fit of coughing, caught completely off guard.
"Well… it is our duty to protect the people," he managed, forcing out the words between coughs. "It's not like we ignored—"
"It's okay, it's okay," Rex cut him off quickly, waving his hands with exaggerated reassurance. "The past is the past. What matters is that you're here now. That's enough."
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing something personal.
"You wouldn't believe how happy people are. They come to confession and tell me everything. For the first time in years, they can live a normal life—even if it's still a poor one."
He smiled faintly, almost nostalgic.
"They're still eating cheap bread and drinking terrible coffee, but at least they're not dodging bullets every day. They can watch the sunrise while eating breakfast. They can walk to work without wondering if they'll make it back."
Coulson's face had turned into something indescribable, like he was holding back a dozen conflicting emotions at once.
"Agent Coulson," Rex said sincerely, "thank you for protecting that kind of peace. I'm serious—I'm going to start a petition to get you recognized. You deserve it."
Coulson looked like he was about to explode.
Rex smiled casually, as if nothing unusual had happened. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
Coulson took a deep breath, visibly steadying himself before speaking. "I'm sorry to bother you again, Father. I've been thinking about what you said last time, and… I didn't fully understand it."
He paused briefly, choosing his words carefully.
"You mentioned that the origin of the Demon Face might be related to Daredevil. What exactly did you mean by that?"
Rex raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely surprised. "You haven't figured that out yet? Why not just ask Daredevil directly? He's supposed to be working with you, isn't he?"
Coulson's expression tightened, embarrassment flashing across his face. "We did talk to him. It was… a cordial conversation. We just wanted to confirm things from another source."
"Oh," Rex nodded thoughtfully. "So what are you trying to confirm?"
Coulson fell silent for a moment before repeating the question more directly. "What's the connection between Daredevil and the Demon Face?"
Rex frowned slightly, as if trying to recall something uncertain. "I'm not completely sure. But from what I heard during confession, someone claimed they saw Daredevil… indirectly cause the Demon Face's appearance."
Coulson's eyes sharpened. "How?"
"It sounded like… a killing," Rex said slowly.
"Who did he kill?"
Rex stared at him for a second, then shook his head with mild exasperation. "I have no idea. Honestly, the guy who told me this was drunk out of his mind. It could've just been a wild dream."
He shrugged lightly. "You probably shouldn't take it too seriously. It might be nothing."
Coulson fell into deep thought, replaying recent events in his mind. Daredevil's evasiveness. His constant presence on the rooftops. His refusal to engage directly.
Could it be guilt?
Was he trying to make up for something?
Coulson's expression shifted subtly as the idea settled in, his thoughts spiraling into uneasy possibilities.
Lost in that haze, he eventually turned and walked out of the church.
Meanwhile, David approached Rex quietly, his posture respectful but urgent. He had something important to report.
"I've finished investigating the two corrupt officers—Jaden and Isaac," David said in a low voice. "They're working under Wilson Fisk, but they're low-level. Not important enough to meet him directly."
Rex listened without interrupting, his attention sharpening.
"They mainly handle drug transport during night patrols. They move large shipments from the main hub and distribute them across six or seven locations. Since they're using police vehicles, no one stops them. The risk is basically zero."
David paused briefly before continuing.
"I installed surveillance software on their phones. Tonight, there's a major shipment—over five hundred kilograms of amphetamines. Estimated value: twenty million dollars."
Rex's eyes lit up faintly.
"They're each getting fifty thousand for the job. Untaxed," David added. "And there's more. I also found some… sensitive personal information."
Rex smiled slowly, a cold glint forming in his gaze.
The police and the gangs had been watching him too closely lately.
Maybe it was time to give them something else to focus on.
....
Join my P@treon FOR FREE and get 5 advanced chapters.
Paid members can get upto 60+ chapters ahead of the public release.
Link : [email protected]/thebookaddict