Cheating My Way Through Marvel and Beyond

"Pepper, do you think I can learn his Kung Fu?"

Tony Stark, billionaire genius, self-proclaimed playboy, and now an aspiring martial artist, leaned back in his chair, stroking his goatee like he had just discovered a new element.

Pepper Potts blinked, momentarily unsure if he was serious. Then she sighed, already sensing where this was going. "Tony, today is the day you assign jobs to the interns. Maybe we finish that before jumping into your next obsession?"

Tony waved her off like she was being ridiculous. "No, no, no! I've already found the perfect job for Mr. Thrust-a-lot here—he's going to be my personal fighting coach! Pepper, schedule a meeting, negotiate his salary, and, I don't know, throw in a dental plan or something."

Jack nearly spit out his drink. Thrust-a-lot?!

This fucking guy.

He smirked. "Wow, we're just hiring me without asking first? Is this how billionaires operate? No wonder you're still single, Mr. Stark."

Tony grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "What can I say? When you know what you want, you go for it. It's how I got into MIT at 15, how I built my first arc reactor, and how I remember people's names."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "By making fun of them?"

"Exactly! It's a genius system, really. No offense, Coach Thrust-a-lot." Tony winked, tossing on his coat. "Anyway, I have missile data to analyze. We'll schedule our first session soon—don't get any ideas about slacking off."

And just like that, he strode out, leaving Pepper to deal with the mess.

Pepper sighed but gave Jack a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. Tony tends to... make decisions for people."

Jack shrugged, smirking. "Hey, as long as the paycheck matches the ego, I'm in."

Pepper smirked. "Oh, don't worry. You'll definitely be happy with the salary."

Jack Goes Shopping (With Cheat Points!)

With Tony gone, Jack finally got some time to check out the System's Store.

A glowing blue screen popped up in front of him, listing a few very interesting things.

System Store – Level 1: Primary Super Serum (1,000 points) – Steve Rogers special, breaks human limits, boosts strength, speed, and metabolism, plus some light anti-aging.

Money (Real World) – 1 point = $1 million (Finally, a way to buy that overpriced coffe!)

Basic Combat Skills (200 points) – Black Ops-level hand-to-hand combat, fast, brutal, and efficient.

Primary Weapon Proficiency (200 points) – Skillful handling of cold weapons like knives, swords, and anything sharp enough to stab people with.

E-Level Combat Suit (300 points) – Looks like everyday clothes but bulletproof and resistant to most small firearms.

E-Level Custom Weapon (300 points) – A weapon tailor-made for your combat style.

Jack only had 500 points, so he had to choose wisely.

"Alright," he thought, scanning his options. "Super serum? Already got that. Money? Tempting, but I can milk Tony for that."

After a moment of consideration, he decided on Basic Combat Skills and the E-Level Combat Suit.

"One makes me hit harder, the other makes sure I don't die. Seems like a solid investment."

As soon as he confirmed the purchase, a rush of knowledge flooded his mind.

He suddenly knew exactly how to break a man's nose in one strike, how to counter a knife attack, how to disable someone in seconds without wasting energy.

Jack cracked his knuckles, feeling stronger, faster, sharper.

"Oh yeah," he grinned. "This is gonna be fun."

Rich, Bored, and Looking for Trouble

With $100,000 a week rolling into his bank account (thanks, Tony!), Jack had plenty of free time.

And what did he do with it?

Bar-hopping, obviously.

After checking out half of LA's nightlife, Jack found his favorite spot—The Roger Room.

It was perfect. No sleazy gold-diggers, no people trying to scam their way into his wallet—just a place full of young hopeful actors, single women, and people who actually wanted to have a good time.

Jack had been eyeing a particular girl for days, waiting for the right moment to make his move. She was cute, new to Hollywood, and still had that fresh "I wanna be a star" energy.

Just as he got up to make his move, a sultry voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Leaving already? Why not stay and have a drink with me?"

Jack turned, prepared to flash his signature smirk—

Then nearly choked on air.

Holy shit.

The woman standing before him was Natasha Romanoff.

Black Widow.

And she looked dangerous in red.

She wasn't in her usual black widow suit—no tactical gear, no high-tech weaponry strapped to her hips. But somehow, that made her even more lethal.

She wore a deep red dress, sleek and elegant, that clung to her in all the right places. Her crimson lips curled into a smirk, and the dim bar lighting made her pale skin glow.

Jack had to take a moment to remind himself to breathe.

This was Natasha Fucking Romanoff.

She wasn't just an Avenger—she was a spy. A master manipulator. If she was here, talking to him, it meant something.

Jack's mind raced. Was he already on SHIELD's radar? Hydra's? Did someone snitch?

But outwardly, he didn't let any of that show. Instead, he grinned, leaning back lazily.

"Well," he said, eyes flicking over her figure, "I was about to leave, but I guess I can be convinced to stay… especially if the company is this lethal."

Natasha smirked, swirling her drink. "You've been watching me?"

Jack chuckled. "Guilty as charged. But in my defense, I thought spies were supposed to be better at blending in."

Her eyes flickered with amusement—and something else.

Jack had a feeling this night was about to get very interesting.