Inside the container interrogation room, Jenkins had finally broken.
The questioning had served its purpose and drawn to its devastating conclusion.
Both officers had devolved into hurling vicious insults at each other, revealing increasingly damning secrets without hesitation.
Their collusion with criminal organizations and the pervasive corruption within the police department had been laid bare for the recording.
The final blow came with Isaac's cruel parting shot—"There's a fifty percent chance that your wife's baby is actually mine. The timing checks out perfectly."
Jenkins fell silent.
Jason stood motionless.
David, monitoring everything from a remote location, went quiet as well.
"Let's end this. I can't stomach any more," Jason muttered.
He stepped out of the container, the evening breeze cutting through his thoughts like a splash of cold water.
Christ, what a cesspool this country has become.
David's voice crackled through his earpiece: "The video's been edited. Are you certain you want to distribute it?"
Jason sighed heavily. "Send it. Stick to the plan."
"One moment... Done. Video sent to several high-ranking police department officials, including Commissioner George Stacy, plus a handful of journalists from major newspapers. You should leave immediately—the police might already be mobilizing."
Jason glanced back at the improvised interrogation room. The entire shipping container had been suspended from a crane by steel cables, dangling precariously over the water.
With David's remote operation, the container rose with an ominous swaying motion before positioning itself over the river's surface.
The video sent to the police concluded with a fifteen-minute countdown.
When the timer reached zero, the steel cables would sever, sending the container plunging to the riverbed.
If the police could locate this specific location in time, they might save the two men inside—but the likelihood approached zero.
Based solely on the container's nondescript interior visible in the video, authorities would have virtually no way to identify its location before time expired.
"It's almost a shame," Jason reflected. "If they hadn't done what they did, I might have spared them—especially Officer Jenkins. My hatred toward him has largely dissipated. Ironic, isn't it?"
David couldn't help adding: "Trust me, killing him now is merciful, especially after you've distributed that video to his colleagues and the press. God! Even though he's corrupt to the core, I've started feeling sympathy for the man."
Jason watched the container swaying in the night air before turning away, his expression tight with conflicted emotions.
After walking some distance, he exhaled deeply. "I need to shift my mood. David, is everything prepared for phase two?"
"Absolutely. Find yourself a good vantage point for the fireworks display."
Jason laughed darkly. "I bet Kingpin will have a particularly memorable evening!"
Earlier, when Kingpin's men had been loading drugs into the police cruiser, Jason had knocked them unconscious before modifying six packaged drug bundles, transforming them into timed explosives disguised as ordinary product.
Tonight, he'd provide Hell's Kitchen residents with an unexpected pyrotechnic show.
David's voice counted down through the earpiece: "Ten, nine, eight..."
"Boom! Bang!"
Fireworks suddenly illuminated the night sky—but they weren't Jason's handiwork.
He blinked in surprise. Someone else was launching fireworks tonight? What a coincidence—their timing aligned perfectly with his plan.
But your display pales in comparison to what I've arranged. Just wait...
"BOOM!"
The countdown concluded, and the anticipated explosions rocked the night as planned.
David's excited voice filled his ear: "All six bombs detonated successfully! The distribution sites are completely destroyed. Our drug lord friend has suffered a devastating financial blow tonight!"
Jason stood on his elevated perch, the night wind billowing through his clothes.
His posture remained straight-backed and resolute, like a vigilante hero from the pages of a comic book.
Hundreds of kilograms of narcotics incinerated, twenty million dollars in product vanishing in an instant.
Lin Zexu, the historical figure who destroyed opium at Humen, must have felt similar righteous determination. Mountains of opium piled on the beach, consumed by purifying flames...
Wait a minute. A troubling thought suddenly pierced Jason's self-congratulation. What method had Lin used to destroy the opium back then?
Staring at the six separate blazes across the neighborhood, a horrifying realization dawned on him...
At the French restaurant, the fireworks had successfully enchanted Vanessa.
The red and green pyrotechnics painted their faces with shifting colors as they smiled at each other with the innocent delight of teenagers.
Then Kingpin's expression shifted as his keen senses detected something amiss. He could distinguish between celebratory fireworks and explosive detonations.
Glancing toward the distant horizon, he identified several distinct fires blazing across the cityscape.
His heart stuttered.
Every one of those locations is in my territory.
"Sir!"
The door behind them burst open. Kingpin turned, his gaze sharp enough to cut steel.
James Wesley, his right-hand man, immediately recognized his faux pas. After composing himself, he forced a professional smile. "Sir, there are urgent matters requiring your immediate attention."
Kingpin remained silent, but before he could respond, Vanessa gently intervened.
"Perhaps we should conclude our evening," she suggested softly. "I'm feeling somewhat tired."
She stepped forward and embraced Kingpin briefly before pulling away to whisper in his ear: "The fireworks tonight were truly beautiful."
Kingpin's expression instantly softened, his composure returning. "Wesley, escort Miss Vanessa home personally. See her safely to her door."
"Understood, sir."
Kingpin clasped Vanessa's hand tenderly. "I apologize for the interruption. I'll make proper amends another day."
"That's entirely unnecessary," Vanessa replied with a warm smile.
As she departed the restaurant, Kingpin's expression darkened progressively.
He retrieved his phone and dialed with deliberate precision. "Tell me exactly what happened."
Jason sprinted toward the nearest explosion site while berating David through his headset: "Don't you realize that narcotics can't be effectively destroyed by fire in open-air conditions? Why didn't you warn me against using explosives?"
"Goddammit, I wanted to destroy the drugs, not invite all of Hell's Kitchen to a free high!"
In his small bedroom above the church, David looked aggrieved. I'm just technical support—why blame me when your plan goes sideways? Besides, you didn't anticipate this issue either!
After a prolonged silence from both ends, Jason finally spoke: "It's just a few hundred kilograms of product. That shouldn't create a significant problem, right?"
David scratched his head nervously. "The issue is that these distribution centers are all situated in densely populated areas for logistical convenience. Plus, we have no way to estimate the actual quantity stored at each location."
"Those two corrupt officers transport hundreds of kilograms per delivery, so the on-site inventory might be substantially larger than we anticipated!"
"Shit!"
By the time Jason reached the nearest distribution center, the fire had intensified dramatically.
Confronted with the towering inferno, he felt suddenly insignificant and powerless.
Residents throughout the surrounding blocks had awakened, many opening their windows to gawk at the spectacle.
Why are you all coming out to watch? I wonder if you'll still be functional enough for work tomorrow after inhaling all these fumes!
Rubbing his face in frustration, Jason drew his pistol and fired several rounds into the air.
The gunshots prompted some onlookers to quickly shut their windows and extinguish their lights.
To his dismay, however, other windows that had been closed now opened as new spectators emerged to investigate the commotion.
You've got to be kidding me! Are you people taking shifts?
Even more astonishing, more than a dozen civic-minded residents had exited their apartments and spontaneously organized an impromptu firefighting effort.
Are you serious? Do you have any idea where you are? This is Hell's Kitchen!
Could you please demonstrate some basic self-preservation instinct? You're battling a fire in the middle of the night in gang territory! Aren't you concerned about getting caught in crossfire?
You experience a few days of relative peace, and suddenly you're playing neighborhood hero?
Jason covered his face in helpless exasperation.
God, am I definitely going to hell for this?