Zhong Qiang's eyes snapped open. He didn't feel like a victim anymore. Instead, he felt like he was plugged into a high-voltage power line. Every cell in his body was screaming with a restless, violent energy. He looked at his hands, watching the faint tremors of power.
"Brother Wen..." Zhong Qiang's voice was gravelly but strong. A wild, almost reckless fighting spirit flared in his chest. "That metal bastard... I can take him now. I can feel it. Let me go back in!"
"Sit your ass down!" Huang Wen barked, his voice carrying the weight of a thunderclap. He shoved Zhong Qiang back onto the pavement with a flick of his wrist. "You think having a big engine makes you a race car driver? You're a mess right now. If you go back out there, you'll just find a more creative way to die, and I'm not explaining that to your father. Shut your eyes. If you want to survive the next ten minutes, you're going to learn how to move this energy before it burns you from the inside out."
Zhong Qiang opened his mouth to argue, but the look in Huang Wen's eyes—a mixture of terrifying authority and deep-seated concern—shut him up instantly. He crossed his legs and closed his eyes.
"This is going to hurt," Huang Wen warned.
He didn't wait for a response. Huang Wen went for a two-pronged approach that would have killed a lesser man. With one hand, he channeled his refined Qi, guiding it through Zhong Qiang's meridians to build a foundation for inner energy. With the other, he used his divine mental power to stimulate the boy's brain, forcing the awakening of his latent mutant or supernatural abilities.
"AAAGHH!"
Zhong Qiang's scream echoed off the glass walls of the Stark Industries building. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated agony, but beneath the pain, there was a resonance—a thickness to the sound that spoke of a booming life force.
A few yards away, Jack and Reese Fisk watched with a mix of awe and naked envy. They had seen Zhong Qiang looking like a corpse just minutes ago. Now, the kid was glowing—literally glowing—with a faint crimson aura.
"I think Qiang just hit the lottery," Reese muttered, wiping blood off his own cheek. "Whatever the Boss fed him, I want a double serving."
"Keep dreaming, Reese," Jack replied, though his eyes were fixed on the transformation. "That wasn't just food. That was a miracle. Look at him... he sounds like he's trying to shout down a hurricane."
Pepper Potts stood nearby, her hands clasped over her mouth. Her world had been turned upside down tonight. First, her boss was a superhero, then her boss's business partner was a giant metal monster, and now, a young man in a tuxedo had appeared out of thin air to perform a literal resurrection.
"What is happening?" she whispered, the confusion threatening to overwhelm her. "Who are these people?"
"Ms. Potts, please, stay back," a familiar, slightly strained voice called out.
Agent Phil Coulson emerged from the lobby of the damaged building, his suit dusty and his expression deeply uncomfortable. Seeing Huang Wen was like seeing a ghost that had once threatened to haunt his career.
Coulson remembered their last encounter all too well. He had dismissed Huang Wen as a mere puppet for the Kingpin, a local martial arts teacher with a big mouth. That mistake had nearly seen him reassigned to the Arctic to count penguins. If Tony Stark hadn't been kidnapped, necessitating all hands on deck, Coulson might currently be wearing a parka instead of a tie.
Huang Wen didn't even look at the agent. He sensed Zhong Qiang's energy beginning to stabilize. He withdrew his hands and stood up, the air around him rippling with suppressed power.
"Keep him steady," Huang Wen said to Jack and Reese, his voice cold and focused. "Familiarize him with the flow, but don't let him stand up yet. Guard him. If anyone—I don't care who—gets close, break them."
"You got it, Teacher," Jack said, stepping into a defensive stance. "The precinct boys are already setting up a perimeter. We've got the scene locked down."
"My people are on it, too," Reese added, his eyes flicking toward the shadows. "Publicity control is in effect. No one's filming this."
"Good," Huang Wen said. His gaze drifted toward the distant explosions lighting up the New York skyline. "The big suit? He thinks he's the top of the food chain. I think it's time to remind him that metal can be bent."
With a thought, Huang Wen's telekinesis grabbed the air around him. He didn't just jump; he ignited, launching himself into the sky like a surface-to-air missile.
System, issue a mission: Defeat the Iron Monger.
[Generating Mission: Defeat the Iron Monger][Reward: One Transcendent Item Lottery][Do you accept?]
"A Transcendent Item?" Huang Wen mused as he soared through the clouds, his coat fluttering behind him. He wasn't entirely thrilled. "It's a gamble. Could be a legendary blade, or it could be a magical toaster. But fine, I'll take it. I need the exercise anyway."
BOOM!
A massive fireball erupted a few blocks ahead, drawing his attention.
Down on the streets, the battle was looking grim. Tony Stark's Mark III was a wreck. One of his flight stabilizers was sparking, and the gold-titanium alloy was gouged and blackened. In contrast, the Iron Monger was a beast. Obadiah had designed it for raw, overwhelming power. It was the Hulkbuster's older, meaner brother, and it was currently treating the Mark III like a football.
Obadiah had just kicked Tony through the side of a city bus, following up with a shoulder-mounted rocket that turned the vehicle into a pyre of twisted metal and flame.
"Not bad, Tony!" Obadiah's voice boomed through the Monger's external speakers, distorted and menacing. "You've got the finesse, but I've got the mass! I didn't just copy you; I perfected the philosophy of war!"
Tony groaned inside the helmet, his HUD flashing red. "Jarvis... tell me something good."
"Sir, power is at 15%. Structural integrity is compromised. And it appears we are being pursued by a very large, very angry suit of armor."
"I noticed," Tony grunted, pushing a piece of the bus off his chest. "Fly to the highest point. If we can get him high enough, maybe the icing problem will do the work for us."
"Sir, the probability of reaching the required altitude with current energy reserves is—"
"I don't need a math lesson, Jarvis! Just do it!"
"Sir..." Jarvis's voice suddenly shifted. "I believe the altitude plan is no longer necessary."
"Why? Did he run out of gas?"
CRACK-BOOM!
A sound louder than the explosion of the bus ripped through the air. Tony looked down just in time to see the massive, three-ton Iron Monger suddenly stop its ascent. It wasn't a mechanical failure. A figure had appeared out of nowhere, hovering in the air like a god of the storm, and had delivered a downward strike that sent Obadiah screaming back toward the pavement.
The Iron Monger slammed into the asphalt, creating a crater ten feet wide.
Tony hovered there, his thrusters sputtering, his jaw literally dropping behind his faceplate. "What... what was that? Jarvis, did a meteor just hit Stane?"
"Negative, sir," Jarvis replied, his digital voice sounding almost impressed. "Scanning the individual now. High-energy signature detected. It is Huang Wen, the owner of the martial arts school you requested a profile on."
"The Kung Fu teacher?" Tony blurted out. "Jarvis, he's flying. He's not wearing a suit, he's not a mutant according to the S.H.I.E.L.D. files... how is he flying?"
"Database indicates he is an 'Ability User' of unknown origin," Jarvis continued, scrolling through data at lightning speed. "However, his power levels have increased by several orders of magnitude since the last recording. Sir, he is the primary source of the massive energy discharge detected in the suburbs earlier this week."
Tony watched as Huang Wen descended slowly, the wind whipping his hair, looking entirely unbothered by the fact that he was standing in a war zone. The man looked like he had stepped out of a high-fashion magazine, not a battlefield.
"Jarvis..." Tony whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "Are you telling me this is a human?"