Midnight.
Dominic Accounting Firm.
On the top floor, the dim blue indicator lights of the server room were the only things still breathing in this steel tomb.
"Ding."
The elevator doors slid open.
A man walked out, wearing a white shirt, his face etched with the anxiety of someone who had lost his parents.
John, a senior partner at the firm.
"Mr. John? This late..."
The old security guard on night duty was about to stand up, but the man's impatient gesture pushed him back down.
His gaze was like looking at an annoying fly.
The old security guard wisely shut his mouth.
John walked straight ahead, his leather shoes making dull thuds on the floor.
He headed directly for the server core area, which had the highest security level.
Fingerprint.
"Beep."
Green light.
Iris.
"Beep."
Green light.
Voiceprint.
"Beep."
Green light.
Ever since her abilities increased, she could be very precise with these details.
The downside was that she needed to have contact with the person once.
Yes, normal contact.
Three military-grade biological locks were like toys in front of him.
The heavy alloy door slid open silently.
John walked in, and the door closed behind him.
The next second.
The man's figure, like a puddle of Water, transformed from a greasy middle-aged White man back into Raven's iconic blue body.
She pulled out the USB drive Lynt had given her from a hidden pocket in her tactical suit.
She found the main server, aligned the interface, and inserted it.
The red dot on the USB drive began to flash, like a time bomb implanted in the heart of a giant beast.
Lynt said, three minutes.
She needed to wait three minutes.
Raven stood motionless, her golden vertical pupils reflecting the cold metallic sheen, like a statue from hell.
Her ears twitched slightly, catching everything outside the door.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Footsteps at the end of the corridor.
A security guard on his routine patrol.
"Hmm? Why isn't the door locked properly?"
The security guard mumbled, pushing open the crack in the door.
"John? Is that you? What the..."
The room was empty, with only the servers humming.
The security guard frowned, feeling something was amiss, and turned to retreat and call for backup.
Too late.
As soon as he turned his head.
A hand reached out from the Shadow, directly crushing his throat.
"Crack!"
Not choked, but crushed.
The security guard's gasp was trapped in his lungs, turning into a desperate gurgle.
He didn't even know who had killed him.
Another hand flashed like lightning, the cold touch of a blade cleanly severing his carotid artery.
"Puff."
Blood didn't even have time to spurt out before it was firmly covered by a blue hand.
The body was dragged into the darkness, like a discarded sack.
Clean, swift.
Without a single superfluous movement.
Raven glanced at the USB drive.
The red light turned green.
Done.
She pulled out the USB drive, expressionlessly wiping it on the security guard's still warm uniform, and put it back into the hidden pocket.
She walked to the body, and her body began to undulate again.
A few seconds later, an identical security guard walked out.
She whistled the off-key tune that the unfortunate man loved to hum before he died, continuing his patrol route, and disappeared at the end of the corridor.
A few minutes later, a cleaning lady pushed a trash cart, leaving the building through the freight passage.
Apartment.
The moment the USB drive was inserted, the laptop screen was overwhelmed by a green data stream.
Code, charts, encrypted accounts, like a digital tsunami, instantly flooded the entire screen.
Raven leaned closer, her golden pupils reflecting the waterfall of data.
She couldn't understand it.
Damn it.
This feeling made her very uncomfortable.
The spoils of war she had risked her life to retrieve from a den of dragons and tigers turned out to be a bunch of gibberish she couldn't understand.
She felt like she had turned back into that tool.
An enhanced tool only fit for manual labor.
"What the hell is this?"
She crossed her arms, leaning against the wall, her tone sharp.
Lynt ignored her.
His eyes were fixed on the screen, his ten fingers already a blur.
Each tap was as precise as a surgeon's scalpel, peeling away layers of disguise, going straight to the core.
There was no superfluous expression on his face, only an almost pathological concentration.
"Got it."
Lynt's voice was soft, yet it was like a floodgate, instantly cutting off all the data torrents on the screen.
The whole World became quiet.
On the screen, only a map remained, with an address marked by a red circle.
— Brooklyn, Seventh Avenue, Red Hook Slaughterhouse.
"Kingpin's biggest shipment this week."
Lynt pointed at the red dot, his tone as calm as if he were saying the weather was nice today.
"Thirty million U.S. dollars in cash. It will be packaged here the night after tomorrow and sent overseas."
Thirty million U.S. dollars.
Raven's breath hitched.
"Address."
Raven licked her lips, her golden pupils filled with bloodthirsty excitement.
"I'll bring the money back to you."
This was what she was best at.
"No need."
Lynt uttered two words.
The excitement on Raven's face instantly froze.
He slowly turned off the screen, turned his chair, and looked at her.
"Robbing money?"
He smiled, with a hint of undisguised mockery.
"That's how street thugs play, it's too low, we don't do that."
Raven's brows furrowed.
She didn't understand.
She really didn't understand what was going on in this man's head.
Every step he took was beyond her comprehension.
Lynt stood up and walked in front of her, the distance between them so close that they could feel each other's breath.
"If we rob thirty million, Kingpin will hurt, but he won't die. He'll chase us like a mad dog, and then what?"
He stared into Raven's eyes, saying each word clearly:
"We hide back in the sewers, living like rats? That's not what we want, Raven."
"I don't want his money."
Lynt grinned, a chilling madness in his smile.
"Then what exactly do you want to do?"
"I want to stir up this Water."
Lynt walked to the window, looking down at the dirty street below, ruled by neon lights and trash cans.
Raven didn't say anything.
She just looked at the man's back, feeling like she was witnessing the birth of a psychopath.
A psychopath so calm it made her bones chill.
"When the Water is murky, there are fish to catch."
The screen lit up.
Raven leaned closer, and then, her pupils suddenly contracted.
The first interface.
A silver eagle emblem, with cold, hard lines, full of a sense of order.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest classified internal channel.
An intelligence exchange center that only existed in legends, rumored to be accessible only by Nick Fury's most trusted individuals.
Lynt's fingers danced lightly on the keyboard, like playing an etude.
To the Joker's audience: A batch of Kingpin's black money will be traded at the Red Hook Slaughterhouse, believed to be related to HYDRA's remaining forces in New York. A good show, not to be missed.
Send.
"HYDRA?"
Raven's voice changed.
"You're forcing Fury to go all out!"
"Otherwise? Invite him to watch the show?"
Lynt didn't even lift his head, casually opening the second interface.
Buzz—
A ferocious "M" emblem appeared on the screen, with visual effects of magnetic field distortion, almost trying to crawl out of the screen.
Raven's breathing instantly stopped.
Damn it!
This was the Brotherhood's channel! It was where Eric issued the highest level war mobilization orders after the Genosha incident!
This man... how many secrets did he still hide?!
Lynt's expression remained calm, as if he had just opened a regular email.
His fingertips fell.
Warning: S.H.I.E.L.D. is testing a new anti-Mutant genetic weapon at the slaughterhouse. The prototype has been deployed, and the experimental target is live Mutants.
This message was sent in the most glaring blood-red font.
Like a drop of hot oil falling into a raging Fire.
Raven could even imagine the look on Magneto's old face when he saw this intelligence.
"Eric... he'll tear that place apart with his own hands."
Her voice was as dry as sandpaper.
"Very good."
Lynt was not surprised by this.
"The hounds are in place, now, it's time to release the hyenas."
He casually opened the third interface.
A flashy, pop-up ad-ridden underground forum, a place where New York street thugs exchanged rumors.
He didn't even use encryption, just casually typed a line of text.
Internal news: Kingpin has a problematic shipment tonight at the Red Hook Slaughterhouse. Thirty million ownerless U.S. dollars, whoever gets it, it's theirs. Address: ...
Sent.
Closed all windows.
The entire process was smooth and flowing, taking less than five minutes.
Raven stood still, motionless.
She stared intently at the man in front of her, a chill running straight to her skull.