---
New York, Near Hell's Kitchen
Javier sat in the back of a taxi, sipping on a cold drink as he stared out the window at the bustling streets of Hell's Kitchen. The taxi came to a halt, but Javier didn't move. He toyed with the straw in his drink, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
…
"Hell's Kitchen," the driver said, glancing at Javier through the rearview mirror.
Javier didn't move immediately. Instead, he peered out the window at the bustling street. People milled about, unaware of the storm that had just rolled into their midst.
"Hey, you getting out or what?" the driver asked, impatiently.
Javier pushed the door open, stepping onto the pavement. He took a long sip of his drink, eyeing the familiar building across the street. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
….
"What's the hold-up, man?" the driver asked, turning to look at him.
Javier leaned back, his voice calm yet firm. "I'm thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
"Why spend money on something temporary," he mused, "when I can just make the whole damn place mine?"
The driver blinked, clearly unsure how to respond. Javier paid his fare and stepped out, stretching leisurely. His eyes locked onto a building down the street—the infamous Hellfire Club.
---
The Hellfire Club was as opulent as ever. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow on the lavishly decorated space. The air was thick with the scent of cigars and expensive whiskey. It was a sanctuary for the powerful, the elite—a place where secrets were traded over drinks and alliances were forged in hushed tones.
The dimly lit, opulent lounge was alive with chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. The Hellfire Club was a haven for New York's elite, a place where power and secrecy intertwined. Javier strolled in, his presence commanding attention despite his casual demeanor.
He made his way to the bar and leaned against the counter. "I'll take your strongest drink. Make it fast."
The bartender hesitated, sizing him up. "You sure about that, pal? Our strongest isn't for the faint of heart."
Javier's gaze pierced through him. "Did I ask for a lecture? Just pour."
The bartender complied, pouring a dark amber liquid into a glass. Javier downed it in one gulp and set the glass down with a sharp clink.
"Another. And don't stop until you're out of stock."
As the bartender nervously obeyed, other patrons began to take notice. By the time Javier had emptied the bar's reserves, a small crowd had gathered to watch.
"This guy's a machine," one man muttered.
"He just drank more than a football team," another replied.
"More," Javier demanded, his voice steady. "What kind of establishment runs out of alcohol this quickly?"
The bartender stammered. "S-sir, we're out of stock—"
"Then get more," Javier snapped. "Or are you running a water bar now?"
The commotion reached the upper floors, drawing the attention of Emma Frost. From her vantage point on the second floor, she observed the scene with a mix of curiosity and irritation.
From the second floor, Emma Frost stood by the railing, watching the scene unfold below. Dressed in her usual pristine white attire, she looked every bit the queen surveying her kingdom. Her icy blue eyes narrowed as she observed the man causing a commotion.
"Who the hell is he?" she muttered to herself.
"Ms. Frost," one of the staff approached nervously, "he's refusing to leave and... well, he's drained our stock."
Emma waved them off dismissively, her gaze fixed on Javier. "I'll handle this."
Closing her eyes, she reached out with her telepathic abilities, diving into his mind. She intended to uncover who he was and why he was here.
But the moment she entered his consciousness, she regretted it.
It wasn't a mind—it was chaos. Glitching visuals flooded her senses. Strings of binary code—0s and 1s—flashed endlessly, overlapping with fragmented images and distorted sounds. The sensation was overwhelming, disorienting. It was as though she had plunged into a corrupted program, one that resisted her presence violently.
Emma clutched her head, staggering back. A sharp, splitting pain shot through her skull, forcing her to sever the connection.
"What... what was that?" she whispered, breathing heavily.
She steadied herself, leaning against the railing. From her vantage point, she saw Javier glance upward, as though he knew exactly what had happened. He didn't look angry—if anything, he seemed amused. He raised his glass toward her in a mock toast before finishing his drink and setting it down.
Emma straightened, masking her unease with a cold, composed exterior. She gestured to one of the staff. "Bring him up here. Now."
---
Javier climbed the grand staircase leisurely, his steps unhurried. The patrons on the first floor watched in stunned silence, whispering among themselves.
When he reached the second floor, Emma was waiting, her arms crossed and her icy blue eyes fixed on him.
"You've caused quite the scene," Emma said, her voice cold and measured.
Javier smirked. "I tend to do that."
"Do you know where you are?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
Javier looked around, feigning ignorance. "A place that ran out of alcohol too quickly?"
Emma's lips tightened. She closed her eyes, reaching out with her telepathic abilities to peer into his mind. But the moment she entered, she recoiled.
Inside his mind, there was no typical human consciousness—only a chaotic, glitching void of zeroes and ones, repeating endlessly. The sensation was overwhelming, disorienting. She clutched her head in pain, her knees nearly buckling.
"What... what are you, A mutant?" Emma managed to gasp as she pulled out of his mind.
Javier took a step closer, his smirk widening. "You shouldn't snoop where you don't belong, Frost."
Emma straightened, regaining her composure, though her expression betrayed her unease. "You're no ordinary man."
"And you're quick to judge," Javier replied, his tone light but with an edge of warning.
Emma gestured to a nearby chair. "Sit. Let's talk."
Javier ignored the offer, instead strolling to the window and looking out at the city. "Talk about what? How I drank your bar dry? Or how you tried to mess with something you can't understand?"
Emma frowned, her patience thinning. "You've made yourself an enemy of powerful people by causing a scene here. You may want to reconsider your approach."
Javier turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Powerful people? Lady, I'm the glitch in their system. Let them come."
The tension in the room was palpable. Despite her discomfort, Emma was intrigued. This man wasn't just a reckless troublemaker—he was something far more dangerous.
---
As Javier left the Hellfire Club, the staff and patrons remained silent, their eyes following him. The bartender muttered to a colleague, "Did he just... walk out without paying?"
"He didn't even care," the other replied, shaking his head.
Outside, Javier popped open another cold drink and walked down the street as if nothing had happened. The faint glow of the Hellfire Club's sign reflected in his eyes, but his thoughts were already elsewhere.
"Not bad for a quick stop," he murmured to himself, smirking.
Behind him, Emma Frost watched from a window, her mind racing. "Who the hell are you, Javier Sánchez?" she whispered.
Unbeknownst to her, a raven perched on the rooftop above, its unblinking eyes fixed on her. An extension of Javier's will, the bird silently observed before taking flight, disappearing into the night.
The game had just begun, and Javier was already several moves ahead.
...
To read more chapter early, visit patreon.com/goldenraven
as it has already chapter 102 on it.
https://www.patreon.com/GoldenRaven/shop/chapter-102-met-peter-682226?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=productshare_creator&utm_content=join_link