The recorder crackled one last time.
JAKE (recording):
"I don't know if good people really exist or not…
But for me, you're the greatest person I've ever met.
It doesn't matter what others say."
A short pause. His voice softened.
"And… there's one more thing.
There's a secret room behind the wardrobe.
We can check it out together… someday.
That's all I wanted to tell you.
Take care of yourself."
(click)
The recording ended.
Jason's eyes lifted slowly.
The tears didn't stop — but something else rose with them.
Will.
Jason POV
Thank you, Jake.
I always wanted to thank you… for supporting me.
His jaw tightened.
From now on… let me handle things for you.
I'll finish what you started.
Jason walked to the wardrobe and pushed it aside.
Behind it was a hidden door.
He opened it.
A staircase led down into darkness.
The Basement
Lights flickered on.
Jason froze.
The room was filled with photographs, hand-drawn sketches, and maps pinned across the walls.
Faces circled in red.
Names written, scratched out, rewritten.
A control desk stood in the center — CCTV feeds showing different parts of the city, each labeled carefully.
Sanctuary City… watched.
Jason stepped closer, absorbing every detail.
Then he saw it — a board with three locations circled.
Most were crossed out.
Only three remained.
Jason exhaled slowly.
"So… only three places left, huh?"
His leg throbbed painfully.
I can't fight properly like this…
He scanned the room again.
A metallic glint caught his eye.
A metal baseball bat, resting against the wall.
Jason picked it up, testing its weight.
"…Figures," he muttered.
Nothing surprised him anymore.
He tightened his grip.
"Just wait… you city mouse," he whispered.
"The hunt is on."
Elsewhere — Far From the City
An old, abandoned building stood in silence.
A man cloaked in shadow approached the basement gate and knocked — three times, then two.
He spoke a coded phrase.
The door opened.
Guards searched him thoroughly before letting him inside.
What looked like a basement… was actually a hideout.
The man sat on a chair, restless.
"Why isn't he here yet…?" he muttered.
The door opened again.
A man entered.
Name:kid
Height: 5'7
Burn scars along his arms
Multiple ear piercings
A gold tooth flashing beneath a calm smile
Dressed in luxury
He sat down on the boss's chair.
"Alright. What good news do you have for me?
Spit it out."
The man swallowed.
"Well… there's good news and bad news."
"The bad news — Trekker is dead."
His expression didn't change.
"And the good news?" he asked lazily.
"…Knuckle is dead too."
Silence.
Kid leaned forward slowly.
"Dead?"
"You saw it with your own eyes?"
"Yes, sir."
Kid leaned back, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Trekker was useful… helped my shipments move smoothly.
But it doesn't matter now."
He laughed softly.
"The barrier is gone."
Kid turned his gaze toward the man.
"This happened because of you… my spy."
"You kept him away from me."
"You fed me every move."
He smiled wider.
"You really are a great policeman… Commander Rourke."
The man lowered his head slightly.
"At your service," Rourke replied.
Kid chuckled.
"That little hero caused so much trouble."
"And now he's dead."
He leaned closer.
"I'm in a good mood today.
Ask for whatever you want."
Rourke raised his eyes, desperation breaking through.
"I did everything you asked," he said.
"Now… free my daughter."
"It's been months since I've seen her."
Kid tapped his fingers on the armrest.
"I suppose… you deserve a reunion."
He motioned to his guards.
"Bring her."
The guards returned.
They dropped a body onto the floor.
Rourke's breath stopped.
His daughter lay there — lifeless.
Clothes torn.
Scars carved permanently into her body.
Cuts across her face.
Rourke collapsed beside her.
"No… no… what did you do?" he cried.
"My daughter… my child…"
Tears streamed down his face.
He looked up, shaking.
"You promised me," he screamed.
"You said you wouldn't harm her!"
Kid sighed dramatically.
"I don't know about that."
"She was alive yesterday… when I punished her a little."
He shrugged.
"Maybe she killed herself after that."
That's not my fault.
Rourke snapped.
"You bastard!"
"You used me! You killed my daughter!"
He lunged at Kid.
Kid smiled.
In one swift motion, he pulled out a knife.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Blood spilled.
Rourke collapsed beside his daughter.
Dead.
Kid wiped the blade calmly.
He laughed.
"Now that Knuckle's gone…"
"I can do whatever the fuck I want."