The morning after Huang Liang's impromptu discipleship, the comfortable domesticity of the Wing Chun Kwoon was abruptly shattered by the television.
"Yesterday, just before midnight, a situation unfolded at a research institute in Berkeley, California," the news anchor announced, his tone dramatically tense. The screen cut to a shaky, low-resolution video, clearly filmed hastily on a mobile phone.
The footage was a confusing blur of night sky and distant city lights, but then—for a fractional second—a colossal, distinctively green, humanoid silhouette arced impossibly high between two distant skyscrapers. It landed on one roof, leaving an audible thud even through the phone's poor microphone, before launching itself again and vanishing.
"Witnesses claim to have seen a giant green monster—a being of unnatural strength and size—fleeing the scene," the anchor continued, his voice tight with barely contained fear. The video cut to a professionally shot close-up of a rooftop. The asphalt was cracked and deformed around a gargantuan, clearly defined footprint, several times the size of a man's boot.
"While authorities have not yet confirmed the nature of this threat, the massive scale of the destruction and the eyewitness accounts lead us to believe we are dealing with a rogue operative, potentially a highly unstable mutant or a biological weapon escaped from the lab."
The host leaned into the camera, his agitation palpable. "This creature has disappeared, and we are left asking: who, or what, is this monster? And what will happen when it reappears in one of our crowded cities?"
The tension in the living room was instant. Huang Liang stared at the screen, his tea forgotten, a flicker of awe and terror crossing his face. Zhong Qiang looked sickened by the blatant fear-mongering.
Logan, however, was immediately enraged. His shoulders tensed, his healing factor thrumming with aggressive energy, and he was halfway out of his chair before Huang Wen reached out and firmly pressed him back down.
"Relax, Wolverine," Huang Wen advised softly, keeping his voice level. "It's just noise. Someone is making him say that on purpose."
Logan slumped back, letting out a heavy, weary sigh that sounded like the groan of old machinery. He looked around the table, noticing that Uncle Zhong and the others seemed more disgusted than fearful. "When is the world going to stop painting every unique individual with the same ugly brush?" he muttered, shaking his head. He quickly added, glancing at the others, "I wasn't talking about you lot, obviously. You guys are decent."
"Every ability user goes through this phase," Huang Wen said, shrugging, before stirring his tea. "The problem isn't the monster; the problem is the monster is too powerful to ignore, and too unpredictable to control. Humanity always fears what it cannot cage or kill, especially when that thing can wipe out a few city blocks by simply having a bad day."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping slightly, entering a more analytical, philosophical realm. "The underlying issue here is not discrimination—it's control.
For the Avengers, they settled for documentation and oversight—the Sokovia Accords—because they were, generally, cooperative. But for the mutant community, which is far larger and fundamentally uncontrollable, humans prefer extermination or complete subjugation. You are born with your power; you can't turn it off."
Logan nodded, his gaze distant. "I know the game. Xavier wanted peace through integration; Magneto wanted peace through fear."
"Exactly. And that brings us to the current media spin," Huang Wen continued, his eyes focused on the blaring TV screen. "Someone is testing the depth of the mutant community's reserve. The great, terrifying pillar of the mutants—the warmonger, the boogeyman—is currently locked in a plastic box."
Logan instinctively frowned. "You mean the old bald guy, Charles?"
"No, I mean the one in the prison," Huang Wen corrected, shaking his head. "Magneto. People don't fear Xavier; they respect him as an advocate. But they feared Magneto as an existential threat. Both were indispensable to the stability of the mutant-human relationship, even if one represented peace and the other war."
He explained the complex equilibrium, sketching it out with a pointed finger on the table. "Think about it. If only the peacemakers existed, humans would press harder and harder, seeing no serious resistance, continuing to oppress mutants until they inevitably snap. If only the war-mongers existed, then the total annihilation everyone dreads would be a certainty. But with both—the Peacemakers are always there to say, 'We are friendly, but if you push too far, remember the other guy is waiting.' And the other guy made the governments wary."
"But now, Magneto is neutralized. The war faction is leaderless. The human powers, or whichever shadowy groups stand against mutation, see their chance. By splashing this unidentified 'monster' all over the news and labeling it a 'mutant,' they are doing two things: stirring up public panic, and more importantly, checking the X-Men's bottom line. They are pushing the narrative to see how hard they can tighten the screws on the mutant community before Charles Xavier and his people are forced to react aggressively."
Logan stared at Huang Wen, his surprise quickly replaced by grudging respect. "You really are on top of this stuff, aren't you? You didn't just look up who I am; you understand the entire political infrastructure."
"Like I said, the internet is a beautiful thing, Uncle Wolf. I just connect the dots of the news reports with some historical records," Huang Wen laughed dismissively. Logan, however, didn't believe it was that simple. Huang Wen's analysis was too nuanced, too sharp for mere Google searches.
"So, what's the move, then? Do we need to break Magneto out of the plastic box to restore balance?" Logan asked, his voice now serious and strategic.
Huang Wen shook his head. "You couldn't break him out if you tried. The prison holding him is likely designed to contain beings far more powerful than you, or even him. Besides, that situation will be handled by others. I trust Professor Xavier knows how to play this chess game. Our biggest problem right now is not the mutant problem, or the media spin…"
He tapped the table, his smile vanishing completely. A hint of genuine concern replaced his usual composure, and he stared intently at the photo of the giant footprint on the screen.
"The biggest problem is that giant green shape from California."
The contrast in threat was significant. Magneto, even at his most destructive, was a political actor. He destroyed landmarks, sure, but his destruction was targeted, calculated to achieve maximum political pressure with minimal civilian loss—a grandstanding performance intended to force the world to take mutants seriously. He could be negotiated with, or at least anticipated.
The Hulk, however, was pure, terrifying chaos.
"In terms of raw destructive capability, that thing is exponentially more dangerous than Magneto at his peak. Magneto can destroy a city, but he needs time, focus, and a target. The Hulk can level a few blocks simply by losing his temper in the wrong place,"
Huang Wen explained, the seriousness of his gaze sweeping across his new disciple, Huang Liang, and his family. "If that green goliath lands in downtown New York, or worse, in our Chinatown, I don't know if I can stop it, Logan."
He didn't just worry about stopping the Hulk; he worried about stopping the collateral damage. He couldn't risk the safety of his Kwoon or the entire block. He was a master of people—human martial artists—but the Hulk was something else entirely.
"The greatest issue with the green entity is its lack of human structure. You can't expect it to have meridians or pressure points," Huang Wen pondered aloud. "I can't just use the Biu Jee Finger Style to strike the death point of a giant, raging, genetically modified monster. What if Thor arrives? Or Gamora? Even if they look human, how can I guarantee my techniques will work?"
Logan, pumped up from his sparring session and his restored memory, scoffed at the worry. He flexed his massive arms confidently.
"A big green strongman? Don't sweat it, kid. I've taken down dozens of overgrown mutants like that—some were bigger, some were uglier, and some were even green. If that thing tries to cross my path, I'll make sure he turns tail and runs back to California." Logan promised, a feral grin crossing his lips. "Just point me in the direction of the fight, and I'll handle the heavy lifting."
Huang Wen's lips twitched slightly. He stared at Logan, the Wolverine, the man whose adamantium skeleton was supposed to be the most indestructible substance on Earth. "You've dealt with big mutants like him," Logan had boasted.
The image flashed through Huang Wen's mind: a comic book panel, seared into his memory from a lifetime ago—the Hulk standing over a fallen Wolverine, an impossibly powerful, enraged moment where the green goliath tore Logan clean in half at the waist.
Adamantium alloy… torn in two. How does one even accomplish that? Huang Wen thought, a cold shiver running down his spine. You can't just 'tear' adamantium. Did the Hulk's raw strength somehow overload the tensile strength of the joints? Or was his power simply so incomprehensibly vast that it achieved the functionally impossible?
Logan was confident, but Huang Wen knew the brutal, devastating truth. The Hulk was not just a powerful mutant; he was a law of nature unto himself, and if he ran into the Wing Chun Kwoon, Logan's promise to make him 'slink away' might end with Logan needing several years to regenerate from an extremely difficult circumstance.
The Hulk was the new, completely unknown variable, and for the first time since the explosion, Huang Wen felt a distinct chill of true, strategic dread.