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By day, Torin Adeyemi mops floors and keeps his head down. By night, he becomes something the city has no name for. They call him Jack$Boi. He was forged in the wreckage of Haiti, in a fire that took everything from him except the one lesson it left behind: the wicked do not stop themselves. Someone has to. Baltimore's streets keep their secrets in blood - pimps who prey on the desperate, dealers who poison the young, cops who wear the badge like a mask for something far worse. The system looks away. Jack$Boi does not. Each kill is a confession. Each confession, a countdown. Because the mask he wears isn't a disguise - it's a door. And every time he opens it, less of Torin Adeyemi comes back through. This is not a hero's story. This is not a villain's story. This is the story of a city that made a monster to survive itself - and the monster it's about to become. The wicked have been warned.
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