"What were you going to say?" Jay asked, genuinely curious now.
Shingen swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. When he finally spoke, his voice was carefully controlled. "Perhaps... perhaps we can offer something more valuable than money."
He gestured to Yukio, who produced the tablet again with obvious reluctance. The screen now displayed a list of names and abilities that made Jay's comic perk work overtime.
The Yashida family's list read like a who's who of Japan's mutant community, and the implications were staggering. These weren't employees or hired muscle. The formal language, the way Yukio had phrased it earlier, suggested something far more binding. 'Giri', the old concepts that still held weight in certain circles.
Sunfire, Shiro Yoshida, wielded superheated plasma and flight capabilities. His cousin Sunpyre, Leyu Yoshida, possessed similar abilities at reduced power levels. Family ties, probably leveraged through obligation and debt. Blood called to blood in the old ways.
Surge, Noriko Ashida, could absorb electrical energy for lightning attacks and superhuman speed. Armor, Hisako Ichiki, manifested psionic exoskeletons for enhanced strength and protection. Young mutants, likely bound through tradition or cultural pressure. Their families probably owed the Yashidas, and the debt passed down through generations.
Akihiro had a healing factor, retractable claws, enhanced senses, and pheromone-based emotional manipulation, one from Wolverine's bloodlines. Silver Samurai, Kenuichio Harada, generated tachyon fields to charge weapons for molecular disruption. Gorgon, Tomi Shishido, could petrify with his gaze and possessed enhanced strength with regeneration.
The list continued. Sumo with his enormous size and proportional strength, and the MLF operatives Kamikaze and Samurai with their enhanced combat capabilities.
This wasn't a corporate asset list. This was a feudal structure dressed in modern clothing, with mutant powers replacing samurai swords. The Yashidas had recreated the old clan system, binding powerful individuals through honor and obligation instead of simple employment.
"Giri," Shingen said quietly, using the old Japanese concept of duty and obligation. "Even Yukio has offered her abilities if it means saving my life. Such is the burden of those who serve the Yashida name."
Jay studied the list with growing interest. A month ago, he would have leaped at Armor's power. Who wouldn't want their own personal Susanoo? But Creel's molecular absorption had given him defensive capabilities that were arguably superior and more versatile.
Silver Samurai's tachyon field, however... that was genuinely intriguing. The ability to disrupt molecular bonds, to cut through virtually any material. Combined with his existing defence, it would make him well-rounded in combat.
He considered Yukio's death-sight but immediately dismissed it. Seeing Bobby's death, or Maria's, or any of the people he'd come to care about, that kind of knowledge would be too much for him to bear.
"How interesting," Jay mused, "that a dying man would put his illegitimate son Kenuichio Harada on this list as a sacrificial lamb."
Shingen's composure flickered again, but he managed to maintain eye contact. "Desperate times require difficult choices."
"Even with Kenuichio's power, it wouldn't be enough," Jay said thoughtfully. "What about the blade we discussed?"
The old man gestured to Mariko, who left the room without a word. She returned several minutes later, accompanied by a young man carrying a wrapped sword. Jay's danger sense gave a subtle warning. Not an immediate threat, but definitely something to be cautious about.
Kenuichio Harada was in his late twenties, with the kind of lean build that suggested extensive martial arts training. His face was a careful mask of resigned acceptance, but Jay caught the flash of resentment in his eyes. His jaw was clenched tight, and the tendons in his neck stood out like cables. When he knelt to present the blade, his hands trembled slightly before he forced them still.
He sat in seiza, the formal kneeling position, back straight despite the obvious tension in his shoulders. The wrapped blade rested across his palms, offered with both hands as tradition demanded. But his eyes remained fixed on a point somewhere past Jay's shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. The pride of a man being stripped of everything that made him dangerous, forced to maintain composure through the humiliation.
"The cursed blade Muramasa," Shingen explained, his voice carrying the weight of history. "Forged from a piece of an immortal's soul. Someone who owed my ancestor a considerable favour during the Heian Era."
Jay's smile widened. Finally. This blade was forged by capturing a fragment of an immortal's soul and forging it into a weapon. Named after its creator, Muramasa himself.
Jay had been hunting for this weapon specifically because of what it represented. In a world of healing factors and sorcerers, conventional weapons weren't cutting it anymore against high-tier threats. Wolverine could shrug off bullets. Deadpool laughed at explosions. The Masters of the Mystic Arts could kill or contain him in a dozen different ways.
But a blade that could cut through mystical defenses? That could slow even the most powerful healing factors? That was the equalizer he needed. It would supplement what he lacked due to his 'No Arcane Drawback'. The Muramasa was designed to kill gods and monsters, forged in an era when such things walked openly.
The blade would be capable of cutting through mystical defenses and slowing even the most powerful healing factors to a crawl.
It was, quite literally, a weapon designed to kill immortals and supernatural beings.
"The price is appropriate," Jay said finally.
He reached out, placing his hand on Kenuichio's bare skin, and began absorbing the young man's tachyon field generation. The power flowed through Jay like water, and he could feel the new ability integrate with his existing powers. The sensation was like gaining a new sense, suddenly becoming aware in a completely different way.
Kenuichio's eyes went wide, then squeezed shut. The loss of a mutant power wasn't just losing an ability. It was losing a fundamental part of identity, like going blind or deaf.
Then he accepted the Muramasa blade, unwrapping it carefully. The malevolent aura hit him with full force. The blade itself was beautiful in a cruel way. Dark steel that seemed to drink in light rather than reflect it, with an edge blood red in colour and so fine it looked like it could cut reality itself. The tsuba was simple, unadorned, because the blade needed no decoration to announce what it was.
Jay's danger sense spiked the moment his fingers touched the hilt. Not warning him away, but acknowledging what he held: a weapon that wanted to be used. That hungered for what it was made to kill.
He wrapped it again quickly, the hair on his arms standing on end.
Finally, he approached Shingen's bedside and placed his hands on the old man's chest. The healing process was more complex than usual. This was not just repairing damage, but essentially turning back biological clocks. First, he had to identify and neutralize the poison. Some kind of slow-acting toxin that mimicked natural cellular decay. Clever. Diabolical, even.
Then came the actual healing, and that was where things got difficult. Cancer cells had metastasized throughout Shingen's lymphatic system. Jay had to hunt down every corrupted cell and flush the debris. His hands grew hot, then burning, as he channeled more and more energy into the process.
The radiation damage was trickier. Eighty years of accumulated cellular corruption, mutations that had compounded over decades
Jay almost smiled, seeing the irony of it all. Wolverine had saved a kid during the bombing. And now, eighty years later, that same kid was trading his illegitimate son's powers and a cursed blade to stay alive a little longer.
He couldn't stop ageing, but he could reset the accumulated damage of years. The procedure was very exhausting, even with his enhanced capabilities. Given his enhancement, that was saying something.
When the healing was finished, Shingen looked like a man in his sixties rather than his eighties. Still old, but with the vitality of someone who had years ahead of him rather than months.
The Yashida family members had expressions of shock and awe, but all clearly thought any price was worth this miraculous restoration.
"There's something you should know," Jay said as he stepped back, exhausted and panting. "After all, I wouldn't want my hard work to go to waste."
Shingen's newly restored energy immediately focused into sharp attention. "What do I need to know?"
"Two organizations are moving against you. First, someone named Viper, also called Dr. Green. She'll come offering medical expertise, probably claiming she can extend your life even further. She's after your company's resources."
Jay continued ignoring their reactions.
"Second, a man named Murakami from an organization called the Hand. They're the ones who've been poisoning you. I could taste their handiwork in your cells. They want chaos, want you weak so they can carve up your holdings."
Jay paused, letting that sink in. "They're coming soon. Weeks, if not months. Your improved health will actually accelerate their plans, because they'll realize their poison failed.
"Oh, and regarding Murakami, when you kill him, burn the body. Think of it as a professional courtesy."
Jay smiled mentally, picturing two massive criminal organizations about to collide with one of Japan's most powerful corporate dynasties. The Yashida clan had the resources, the manpower, and now the warning. Hydra and the Hand were about to learn a hard lesson about underestimating old money backed by mutant powers.
Plus, it kept both organisations busy and away from his people. Two birds, one stone. The Yashidas would handle threats that might have eventually circled back to the Network. Win-win.
The old man immediately turned to Mariko. "Have Kenuichio taken for a medical evaluation. Alert security and all the subsidiary clans and our yakuza allies. Even hire the Kagemusha if you have to. They must watch for these individuals immediately. I want them identified and eliminated before they can make their move."
Without any further pleasantries, Jay collected his things and headed for the door. After all, the Gundam statue was waiting for him, and he'd promised himself this would be a real vacation.
Behind him, he could hear Shingen already making phone calls, marshaling the resources of one of Japan's most influential families against threats that had no idea what was coming for them.
Jay stepped out into Tokyo's afternoon sunshine, feeling lighter. For once, someone else could handle the planning and politics.
He had giant mechs to see.
[A/N]: I write across multiple fandoms. Support my writing and get early access to 45+ chapters, exclusive content, and bonus material at my P@treon - Max_Striker.