[A/N]: Alright, guys, here's the deal. We're sitting at rank 39 right now, and if we make it to the top 20 by the end of the week, I'll drop two extra chapters along with the weekly bonus. So let's get those stones going and push this story higher! đ„
Jay had been sitting in the metal chair for nearly an hour, blood still crusting on his sweater, when the door finally burst open. White Fox strode in, her supernatural grace barely containing controlled fury. Her fox-like features were sharp with anger, and when she spoke, her English carried the crisp authority of someone used to getting answers.
The secure facility looked exactly like what Jay expected from Korean intelligence. Concrete and fluorescent lights, built for function over comfort. That particular smell of industrial disinfectant and stale coffee hung in the air, the kind that seemed universal to government buildings worldwide.
"What the hell is the goddamn Power Broker doing in Korea?" she demanded, slamming a thick file onto the metal table. "And why were you in the same store as an M-Gang operation? That's one hell of a coincidence."
Jay remained silent, studying her with the same clinical detachment he'd use on a particularly difficult patient. White Fox's NIS training was evident in how she positioned herself, close enough to make him uncomfortable but far enough to dodge if he tried anything.
"I'm talking to you!" Her voice carried that supernatural allure, the fox spirit's influence trying to compel him to respond. "Twelve people are mutilated like animals, and you were standing in the middle of it covered in blood!"
Still nothing from Jay.
White Fox began pacing. For just a second, something flickered across her face. Relief, maybe, or gratitude quickly buried under professional anger. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. "Do you have any idea what kind of diplomatic incident this creates? An American super operating on Korean soil without authorization? The Blue House is going insane right now!"
She pulled out photos from the convenience store. Crime scene images that would give most people nightmares. "Look at this! Look what you did to them!" She stopped herself, jaw tight. "This isn't justice, it's butchery."
Jay finally spoke. "No."
"No?" White Fox stopped pacing. "No, what?"
"Just no." Jay leaned back in the chair. "That's your answer to everything you're going to ask."
Silence.
She slammed her palm on the table. "Fine. Sit there and play mute." As she headed for the door, she glanced back, and for a moment the anger cracked enough to show exhaustion underneath. "We'll see how long that stubborn act lasts."
"No," Jay said before she could leave.
"What?"
"Call whoever you need to call. The answer's still no."
The door slammed behind her, and Jay was alone again. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Somewhere down the hall, a phone rang three times before someone picked up. His wrists ached from the cuffs, and the dried blood on his sweater had started to itch.
That's when the shaking started.
His hands trembled first, then his arms. The adrenaline that had carried him through the fight was gone, leaving behind something cold and hollow. Jay pressed his palms flat against the metal table, but it didn't help.
The memory came back in vivid detail. The M-Gang member with the blood-stained claws, the casual cruelty in his eyes as he advanced on Jay in that basement full of tortured children. The way Muramasa had cut through him like paper, the spray of blood painting the concrete walls.
Jay had always known he'd eventually have to kill in this universe. Marvel was a place where death was handed out like candy and resurrection was practically a customer loyalty program. He'd mentally prepared himself for the necessity of violence.
But the efficiency of it had caught him completely off guard. No hesitation, no moral conflict in the moment, just pure, instinctual lethality.
What haunted him most wasn't the killing itself. It was one child in particular. A girl, maybe eight years old, with burns covering half her face. When Jay had reached down to heal her, she'd screamed. Not with pain but with terror, scrambling backward until she hit the wall. She'd looked at him with the same wide-eyed horror she must have shown her captors, unable to tell the difference between the monster who hurt her and the monster who'd saved her.
Those eyes wouldn't leave him alone.
To distract himself, he retreated into his mental plane.
The space had changed dramatically. What had once been a serene starry sky now roiled with clouds representing his inner turmoil.
His powers stood in their familiar positions:
His original ability, power theft, appeared as a gray silhouette that looked like Jay himself, but with ocean-blue eyes. After absorbing Chance's power the night before, the silhouette stood taller, more defined.
Tommy's green, child-like healing aura pulsed with gentle warmth.
A golden knight with navy blue stripes manifested his danger sense, hyperalert even here.
A black cloud represented Blackout's darkforce manipulation.
Carl Creel's absorption powers took shape as a blank humanoid, its surface constantly shifting between textures.
The Silver Samurai's abilities appeared as a katana made of pure silver, surrounded by the white field of tachyon energy.
Tomoe's technoforming ability looked like a female silhouette traced in blue circuitry.
And finally, Kim Il Sung's newly stolen power appeared as a red portrait that kept changing size and properties.
Jay focused on that red portrait. Kim's power had been wasted on him. In the comics, Scrambler's ability eventually evolved beyond just disrupting powers. He could make any system malfunction, whether biological, mechanical, or energy-based. True Functionality Manipulation. The catch was the time ratio: one second of contact meant one minute of effect.
But powers always came with limitations. This one required skin-to-skin contact to work properly.
Using his original power theft ability, Jay began the fusion process. Kim's power fought back like a cornered animal. The red portrait writhed and twisted, trying to pull away from the gray silhouette's grip. Jay's lingering anger made him merciless. His primary ability wrapped around Kim's power like chains.
The portrait began to tear. Not cleanly, but in ragged strips. Jay felt each rip in his chest, a burning sensation that spread through his mental space.
When the integration finally completed, Jay tasted copper. A red, tattered cape materialized on his power theft silhouette's back.
The transformation was immediate. His null field expanded from forty feet to fifty feet, and the nature of the ability itself evolved. Where before he could only nullify superpowers, now he could disrupt machines and energy fields as well.
Jay pulled himself out of the mental plane, frustrated at seeing his growing arsenal.
Even with his Adaptive Power perk helping him understand the basics of each ability, he knew he wasn't using them to their fullest potential. Raw power was one thing, but technique, finesse, true mastery, that required training.
He needed teachers. Mentors.
The door opened again three hours later. Jay had been counting the minutes by the rhythm of footsteps in the corridor outside.
But it wasn't White Fox who entered. It was Agent Phil Coulson, looking as polite and diplomatic as ever in his perfectly pressed suit.
Coulson looked at Jay with that expression of mild disappointment that seemed to be his default. "You know, when I file my vacation reports, they're usually about museums and local cuisine. Somehow, I don't think yours will read quite the same way."
"Hey," Jay said with a shrug. "I was on vacation. It's not my fault the convenience store I went to turned out to be a front for kidnapping and trafficking."
"Funny how that keeps happening to people like us." Coulson glanced at the cameras in the corners. "We're still being observed. It would be best if we continue this conversation outside."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "They're actually letting me leave?"
"Nothing they can do legally. You did their job for them, rescued thirteen children, and eliminated a criminal organization that's been operating for five years." Coulson gestured for Jay to stand. "The only issue is that you used your powers without proper authorization, which isn't allowed in Korea under their Enhanced Persons Regulatory Act. Technically, you should be detained for six months and fined."
They walked through corridors filled with the efficient bustle of intelligence work. "To settle this diplomatically," Coulson continued, lowering his voice, "S.H.I.E.L.D. agreed to share intelligence on three separate terrorist cells operating in Southeast Asia. In exchange, the Korean government officially credits the Tiger Division with taking down the M-Gang operation. You were never there. Clean and simple."
Jay just nodded. It was the kind of face-saving political theater that kept international relations smooth. He didn't particularly care who got credit as long as those kids were safe.
"There is one complication," Coulson added as they approached the property desk. "That sword you were carrying. The NIS wanted to keep it for study."
Jay stopped walking. "That's not happening."
"I know. That's why I told them it was a S.H.I.E.L.D. artifact on loan for your protection detail." Coulson's expression didn't change. "They ran a basic analysis. Registered as ordinary steel on every scanner they have. Strange, don't you think?"
"Very strange," Jay agreed, taking the guitar case from the property officer. Muramasa pulsed once inside.
When they emerged from the building into Seoul's night, Jay checked his pockets and found all his belongings intact: phone, wallet, gifts from everyone, Domino's quarter, and the adamantium bullet.
"Jay-ssi?"
He turned to see Luna Snow and Dan Bi approaching from across the street. Both looked tired from the morning's events, but they'd clearly been waiting for him.
Luna spoke first. "We wanted to thank you. The way you fought was... intense. But you saved them." Her idol persona was completely gone, replaced by something more real. "The children are getting proper medical care now. Therapists, doctors, everything they need."
Dan Bi stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Thank you for healing my friend," she said in Korean-accented English.
It turned out one of the rescued children was her classmate.
Jay looked at Dan Bi. Too young to have classmates in regular school, but old enough that this should have been about studying for exams and worrying about which cartoon to watch.
Seeing a ten-year-old being used as a hero, even officially, was revolting.
"Stop playing hero," he told her bluntly. "Enjoy your childhood while you still have one."
Dan Bi's face crumpled. "But I want to help people! Like you helped my friend!"
"I'm not a hero," Jay said. "I'm just someone who knows how to kill."
Then he turned to Luna Snow. "And you need to convince her to quit. Keep dragging kids into this life, and any harm or casualties will be on you and your teammates' consciences."
He walked toward Coulson's black sedan without another word.
Back at the American consulate, Jay showered and changed into clean clothes, grateful to wash the smell of blood and violence from his skin. But when he closed his eyes under the hot water, he saw that little girl's face again. The burns, the terror, the way she'd scrambled away from him. Soap and water couldn't touch that memory.
When Coulson asked if he needed anything, Jay gave him an answer that clearly caught the agent off guard.
"Can you drop me off at Kathmandu?"
Coulson raised an eyebrow. "Nepal? That's... unexpected. Any particular reason?"
"I need to meet someone."
Coulson studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "I can arrange transportation. When do you want to leave?"
"As soon as possible." Jay looked out the window at Seoul's sprawling cityscape. "I think I've caused enough diplomatic incidents in Korea for one trip."
"Just Korea? That's almost restrained for you." Coulson allowed himself a small smile. "I'll make the arrangements."
As Jay waited for his departure, he couldn't shake the image of the children's terrified faces.
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