They had been running "deliveries" for the Hand for months now.
And suffered plenty.
Don't be fooled by how Sanjid tore through those ninja killers like paper — to ordinary superheroes, the Hand were a serious threat. Each member had gone through inhuman training, with only a small fraction surviving to become full-fledged assassins. Those who survived were lethal, fast, and merciless.
Add relentless brainwashing, and what you got were warriors designed for silent war.
Their assassination techniques had earned them global notoriety.
Jessica Jones, especially, hated their guts. Her brawling style matched her explosive personality — and when things got personal, she'd swing fists until heads cracked. During previous missions, she'd been ambushed by the Hand three times. The tally? Seventy-four ninjas down.
But they'd nearly gotten her, more than once.
If not for her superhuman durability, her limited flight ability, and heightened senses, she might not have made it. Each time, it was Daredevil who arrived just in time to pull her out of a mess.
That's why she despised these damn ninja freaks.
They never fought her head-on.
Always from the shadows.
She'd long wanted to storm the Hand's HQ herself — but every time she tried, Daredevil shut her down.
And to be fair, he wasn't wrong.
The Hand's HQ was tightly guarded, crawling with dozens — maybe hundreds — of elite ninjas. A frontal assault would've been suicide.
Lately, that frustration had made Jessica even more irritable than usual.
But now?
Now that Sanjid had flattened their entire headquarters by himself?
She felt amazing.
Like chugging a can of ice-cold soda on a 40°C day.
The anger in her chest was finally… gone.
> "(^∇^) Damn, that felt good…"
Sanjid gave a faint smile. But before he could say anything, the sound of sirens echoed from down the street.
Everyone turned their heads.
> "Not the place for a chat,"
The Punisher muttered, eyes narrowing. "They're getting close."
> "Let's move," Daredevil nodded.
---
Meanwhile – A Quiet Villa, Upper Manhattan
"Bella! Have you seen my Goddess of Judgment T-shirt?!"
A shrill voice echoed through the house, breaking the peace.
Bella, curled up on the first-floor couch with a remote in hand, rolled her eyes.
> "Nope. Who knows where you dumped it this time."
Her voice was flat — clearly annoyed.
She still couldn't get over that this idiot girl ran around in a T-shirt with her face on it.
After the Goddess of Judgment had exploded in popularity, cheap knockoffs flooded the market — T-shirts, figures, posters, mugs — you name it.
Merchandising gone mad.
Eventually, Tony Stark had to sue half the black market with his legal team just to slow it down. A few major vendors even went bankrupt.
But even after all that, somehow, some diehard fans still got their hands on them.
> God, this girl is hopeless...
Not far away, little Sally giggled as she played with Cosmo, her furry space dog, grabbing his ears and getting slobbered in return.
The wholesome sight tugged a small smile from Bella as she relaxed, half-watching the large-screen TV while Nina sat beside her in silence.
But then, something on the news caught her eye.
The footage was blurry.
Heavily censored.
No names were mentioned. No details.
But she recognized the corner architecture in the background.
Her eyes narrowed.
> "That's... the Hand's headquarters, isn't it?"
The broadcast avoided specifics, but Bella had seen enough to know exactly what had happened.
She didn't even look up when she asked, "Celia, what happened last night?"
The AI responded instantly.
> "At 8:45 PM, a high-casualty event occurred at 36th Street in Manhattan. The victim: Madam Gao, leader of the international assassin organization known as the Hand. At 8:50 PM, the entire Hand Headquarters was neutralized."
Bella raised an eyebrow.
> "Who did it?"
> "Sanjid."
Bella blinked.
Ah. Of course.
> So that's who it was. Who else could've wiped out the Hand in five minutes?
"Should I retrieve his recent activity log?" Celia asked.
Bella waved it off.
> "No need. I was just curious. I'm not monitoring him 24/7."
The Hand? She couldn't care less.
One less crime syndicate to worry about.
But before she could return to the TV, Celia spoke again.
> "Ms. Bella — the SBY encrypted report is complete."
Bella blinked.
> Oh. That experiment.
She sat up slightly.
> "It's done?"
> "Yes. However, the full results remain inaccessible. The regional data network has been locked. Further intrusion would trigger security protocols."
> "Send me the location. Looks like my layout worked after all."
> "Coordinates sent to your mobile. Would you like me to contact a transport plane?"
> "No need. I'll go alone."
Bella stood up and glanced over at Sally and Cosmo—who were not-so-secretly pulling two more boxes of ice cream from the freezer.
> "Sally, you've eaten way too much ice cream already."
Sally froze like a deer in headlights, hiding the boxes behind her back.
> "Heehee... it's the last one! Promise!"
Bella raised a brow.
> "You said that three boxes ago."
If not for the girl's enhanced metabolism, she'd be round as a ball by now.
> "I'm heading out for a bit."
> "Okay~!"
Sally nodded obediently, definitely ignoring the ice cream smear on her cheek.
In the next instant, Bella disappeared in a swirl of blue mist, vanishing from the villa.
---
Exactly one minute later…
Anji came bolting down the stairs in the shortest crop top imaginable, waving a folded-up T-shirt in her hand.
> "BELLA! I FOUND IT~~~!!!"
Silence.
The villa was empty.
Anji stood there, holding the Goddess of Judgment shirt like a trophy… alone.
> "Aww..."