Times Square, a bustling district in Manhattan, New York, is known as the “Crossroads of the World.”

Surrounded by nearly 40 malls and theaters, it’s a thriving hub of entertainment and shopping. Stepping into Times Square, you’re hit with vibrant neon lights, street performers, and giant screens blasting news, music videos, and TV shows, enough to blow anyone’s fucking mind.

Two days later, in the morning, Times Square was as lively as ever, its crowded streets packed with cars and pedestrians.

On the iconic Nasdaq billboard, stock market updates scrolled across the screen.

Suddenly, a figure soared to the top of the Nasdaq building, but the pedestrians, heads down, didn’t notice a damn thing.

Minutes later, an unidentified humanoid object slowly descended from the roof.

Bound by high-strength alloy ropes, it lowered until it hung on the Nasdaq’s massive screen.

Even the densest people couldn’t miss this creepy-ass spectacle now.

“What the hell is that?”

Pedestrians frowned, murmuring, many pulling out their phones to snap photos and post them online.

A few bold ones stepped closer to the screen for a better look.

Suddenly, a drop of blood fell from the object, splashing onto their faces.

“Blood?”

“Fuck, it’s still warm!”

“It’s a person!!”

“What the fuck?!!”

“Oh my God!!!!”

The ballsy onlookers lost their shit, screaming their lungs out.

You couldn’t blame their blindness—nobody would’ve pegged this thing as human at first glance.

The object was no longer human-shaped; it was more like a mangled pile of raw meat.

The piercing screams drowned out Times Square’s usual chaos, terror spreading like wildfire through the crowd.

Those snapping photos with their phones, realizing it was a person, felt their stomachs churn, doubling over to puke against the walls.

Too fucking horrific, too goddamn bloody!

They couldn’t even imagine what kind of torture this person endured while alive.

Just thinking about it gave them goosebumps.

Times Square isn’t just New York’s entertainment and shopping hub—major news outlets like ABC have studios and newsrooms there.

Within minutes, dozens of news vans screeched in from all directions.

Hundreds of journalists, armed with cameras, swarmed beneath the Nasdaq screen, machines rolling as anchors improvised live reports to their studios.

Soon, every news and entertainment channel in the U.S., plus social media platforms, was infected like a virus.

Flip on any TV show, and it’s a live feed from Times Square. Try to change the channel?

Sorry, the next one’s Times Square too.

The scene dominated every American network, but when viewers leaned in to watch, all they saw was a mosaic blur.

What the fuck?

A screen full of mosaics—how am I supposed to see shit?

The anchor, expecting the backlash, quickly explained.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re deeply sorry. It’s not that we don’t want to show you the scene, but…”

The anchor covered their mouth, grimacing, visibly queasy.

“But this scene is just too gruesome.

“I’ve been in journalism for over a decade, covered hundreds of horrific murders, but I swear to God, even if you stacked the terror of those cases together, it wouldn’t touch this one.”

“For your mental and physical health, we had to mosaic it. Please understand.”

Hearing this, viewers got even more curious.

Is it really *that* bad?

Bullshit, show me or I won’t believe it.

Plenty of people felt this way, ditching their TVs to scour social media for unfiltered images.

Earlier, pedestrians had posted raw photos online, and with the situation escalating too fast, the platforms hadn’t had time to scrub them.

One search, and the uncensored, gut-wrenching images popped up.

When people didn’t know it was a person, the fear wasn’t as intense.

But once they saw it as human, a soul-deep terror clawed up from their guts, spreading through their entire body.

“Oh, I can’t fucking take it…”

Countless people who saw the images ran to their bathrooms, puking their guts out.

Who the hell posted this shit online? They should be fucking locked up.

I swear, this is the most disgusting, terrifying image I’ve ever seen in my life.

…

On the rooftop of the Times Square Tower.

Jason sat on the edge, smirking as he watched the panicked crowd below.

That mangled mess was Clint Barton, S.H.I.E.L.D. Level 7 agent.

Billy, fueled by hatred, had gone all out, accidentally breaking his own record. Clint was tortured for a full 80 hours.

For three days and nights, Billy didn’t sleep a wink. Thanks to the chemical drugs, Clint didn’t pass out for a single minute, enduring unimaginable pain.

Billy was a fucking torture genius. Clint was barely recognizable as human but still clung to his last breath.

Dead men have no value, after all. Jason needed him alive as bait to hook S.H.I.E.L.D., the big fish.

Want to take Clint back for a proper burial?

Sure, pay up.

Don’t want to pay and wanna play hardball?

Heh, good fucking luck.

Jason pulled a fresh deck of cards from his pocket, ripped open the pack, unfolded the deck, and tossed it into the sky.

Fifty-four cards scattered like confetti, drifting in the breeze.

An anchor doing a live broadcast noticed something.

Looking up, they saw the cards floating down.

Someone quick-handed grabbed one and unfolded it.

“Oh! It’s a King!”

The anchor frowned, wondering why the hell Times Square was raining cards.

Some nutjob must’ve tossed them from a nearby building.

They flipped the card to the camera. “A small situation here—someone’s throwing cards from a building. In my hand…”

The King faced the camera, and the anchor saw the back.

The back had a joker with heavy makeup, grinning like a maniac.

The anchor’s voice cut off, their heart seizing as a realization hit.

They bent down, picked up a Four of Spades, and flipped it. Same joker pattern.

Coincidence, or…

Other anchors noticed too, gathering to discuss. Based on the cards’ spread and today’s wind direction, they agreed the cards came from the Nasdaq building.

Someone suggested zooming the cameras to the Nasdaq roof. The building wasn’t too tall, and the stations’ high-powered lenses could easily capture it.

The idea caught on. They scrambled to their spots, directing cameramen to aim at the Nasdaq roof.

All this unfolded live on air.

Viewers watching followed the cameras’ perspective to the Nasdaq building, zooming in bit by bit.

When the lenses maxed out, a clear figure appeared on screen.

A man in a sharp suit sat on the roof’s edge, looking down.

The high-def cameras locked onto his face.

In an instant, everyone—news crews and viewers—froze in shock.

“Jason… Walter!”

Brains crashed for a few seconds before everyone screamed.

“Holy shit!”

“Jason! It’s fucking Jason!!”

“Call the cops! Call them now!!!”

Times Square erupted!

Everyone craned their necks, shouting at the Nasdaq building.

After a month and a half, America’s most wanted, Jason Walter, was in Times Square!

Within minutes, the news flooded the internet.

People spread the word, overloading phone networks.

Jason, perched on the roof, noticed the shift in the crowd.

“Pfft, took them this long to notice. These news folks are fucking slow.”

He wondered if he hadn’t tossed the joker cards, he could’ve sat there a whole day and night without being spotted.

Every news camera was locked on him. The audience he’d orchestrated was finally here.

The stage was set, the crowd ready. Showtime.

He pulled out his phone and made a call. “Start it.”

On the rooftops of surrounding buildings, members of the Joker Organization stood ready.

Today was their first live “product drop.” As core members, they had to be there.

The doctor had said moderate exercise was good for the fetuses, so even Harley and Christine showed up, disguised, of course.

David stepped to the roof’s edge, pulled out a speech, and unleashed his sonic superpower.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are the Joker Organization! The man before you is our leader, Jason Walter!”

“That pile of meat on the screen is Clinton Barton, a Level 7 agent of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division—S.H.I.E.L.D.!”

“He was sent to infiltrate our organization, steal critical intel, and try to kill the esteemed Mr. Walter. The two missile strikes in New York? S.H.I.E.L.D.’s failed hits on him.”

“Thanks to divine intervention, he and his masters’ plans got fucked!”

“As you know, no organization tolerates traitors. He tried to escape but was caught by Mr. Walter, then strapped to an execution table and tortured for 80 hours straight.”

“This is what happens when you betray the Joker Organization. Let this be a warning to all law enforcement agencies and operatives: drop your fucking fantasies.”

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You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.

pat reon.com/GreenBlue17

500 power stones.

Top 50. All time.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep