Marvel: Monkey King

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A new day dawned over Hell's Kitchen. For the first time in years, the territory felt… different. Safer. Jack's clones had spent the night cleaning up.

Some of the former gangsters had tried to make a break for it—stealing cash, guns, even drugs from their old warehouse. 

They didn't get far. Jack's clones caught every single one. The drugs? Burned to ash. The money and weapons? Locked away for safekeeping. And the culprits? Hand-delivered to the NYPD, dropped off neatly like a morning package.

The entire criminal ecosystem of this part of Hell's Kitchen had changed overnight. And the best part? Jack slept through it all.

…

Inside Auntie Vivi's shop, Jack was sprawled out lazily on a wooden stool, watching the big guy from last night sewing diligently. The man's massive, scarred hands moved with surprising delicacy, the needle and thread flowing effortlessly.

Jack smirked. "Damn. You're good at that."

The big guy grunted, nodding slightly.

Jack leaned back, tilting his head toward Auntie Vivi. "Auntie, please tell me my new clothes are done. At least one of 'em?"

Auntie Vivi sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I still need more time, but I have one in the back."

Jack perked up. "Really?"

Auntie Vivi gave him a look. "It's a little big on you, but it'll do."

Jack grinned. "I'll take it."

Auntie Vivi disappeared into the back of the shop and returned with a folded set of clothes. She unfolded them, holding them up for Jack to see. A black hanfu with soft pink accents.

Jack beamed. "Pink. I love it."

Auntie Vivi sighed again. "You're… odd."

Jack shrugged. "Took you this long to figure that out?"

Auntie Vivi rolled her eyes. "Do you want to wash up before putting it on? You smell like a dead rat that lost a fight to a sewer."

Jack clutched his chest. "Auntie… that hurts."

She pointed toward the bathroom. "Go. Before I change my mind about letting you have the hanfu."

Jack saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

Inside the tiny bathroom, Jack stripped off his old, battle-worn robes and stepped into the small, but mercifully warm shower.

The water felt like heaven.

Seven years.

Seven years of training, fighting, sweating, and rolling in dirt. Jack exhaled, letting the water wash away everything. When he was done, he dried off and slipped into the new hanfu.

The fabric was soft, smooth—expensive, even. It draped over him perfectly, and while it was slightly loose, the natural flow of the hanfu made it look intentional.

Jack checked himself in the mirror. Black silk. Pink accents. Long hair tied lazily behind him.

He grinned. "Damn. I look good."

He stepped out of the bathroom, stretching his arms. 

Auntie Vivi glanced up from her work.

She studied him for a moment, then gave a satisfied nod. "It suits you."

Jack grinned wider. "Of course it does."

He grabbed a peach from the nearby fruit bowl, tossing it in the air before catching it.

"Alright, Auntie. I'm off."

Auntie Vivi raised a brow. "Off where?"

Jack shrugged. "Dunno. Somewhere fun."

Auntie Vivi sighed, but there was a small smile on her lips. "Try not to cause too much trouble."

Jack bit into the peach, talking through his full mouth. "No promises."

And with that—he stepped outside. The moment Jack stepped onto the street, the sun hit him. It was bright, warm, golden.

The city was alive, buzzing, moving.

For the first time since he reincarnated into this world…He wasn't just surviving. He was living.

Jack smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, New York. Let's see what else you got for me." And with that—he set off, ready for his next adventure.

Jack strolled through the streets, humming to himself. The city was still buzzing, but something felt different. As he moved further, he noticed it. The eyes watching him were dwindling.

The suspicious people who had been tailing him earlier were disappearing, one by one. Less eyes. Less movement. Less presence. Then—nothing.

Jack paused.

The street had become empty. Too empty. The usual noise of New York was gone, leaving only a deafening silence. Then—they appeared.

Figures moved out from the shadows, stepping into view. Guns. Swords. Blades. A dozen. No—more. 

Jack's grin widened. "Ahhh… so this is one of those 'ambush' things, huh? He clasped his hands behind his back. "You see, I always wondered about these dramatic setups." He gestured vaguely. "Like, how do you guys coordinate this? Group chat? Weekly meetings? You all wait in a dark alley hoping I walk in?"

Silence.

Then—a woman stepped forward. Tall. Pale skin. Black silk robes embroidered with delicate, crawling spiders. Her eyes were dark—bottomless, cold.

Alessa Geomi. The Bride of Nine Spiders. One of the Seven Immortal Weapons. A living nightmare wrapped in elegance.

Jack sighed dramatically. "Oh noooo… I'm too handsome in this life. Now I'm being chased by a bunch of women." He smirked. "It's okay, ladies. We can divide this equally, and I promise to love you all the same."

The warriors gripped their weapons tighter. Alessa's expression didn't change. "Enough. Come with us, or die here."

Jack stroked his chin. "Uuuu, kinky. Okay, I'll bite."

And with that, he stepped forward willingly. Alessa turned without a word, leading him toward a blacked-out SUV parked nearby. Jack hopped inside without hesitation. The car doors shut. And then—they drove.

…

Jack rested his elbow against the car window, sighing dramatically. As they passed the boundary of his territory, his fingertips gently touched the glass, his eyes filled with longing.

"Goodbye, my hometown. Your boy is leaving to work in the big city… to make a name for himself."

One of the warriors guarding him scoffed. "You've only had that territory since yesterday."

Jack spun around, pointing at him. "HEY. Don't be insensitive. I'm having a moment here!"

Silence.

Jack huffed, turning back to the window. As they finally passed out of his self-declared empire, he exhaled, straightened up, and immediately snapped back to his usual self.

He turned to Alessa and the other female warriors, flashing a bright, overconfident grin. "How do I look with this cute pink hanfu? Handsome, right?"

Silence.

Alessa and the two women sitting beside him both wore identical expressions of disgust.

The male driver chuckled.

Jack immediately scowled. "Hey. I don't need a guy's opinion. I know you swing that way, but I don't."

The driver snorted, shaking his head. Alessa sighed, rubbing her temples.

Jack clasped his hands together. "Anyway, let's talk about something fun. Did you know a shrimp's heart is in its head?"

Alessa's eyelid twitched. "...What?"

Jack nodded sagely. "Think about it. A shrimp LITERALLY thinks with its heart. So, does that mean they're the most romantic creatures in the world? Discuss."

Silence.

Jack clapped his hands. "No? Okay, new topic—If a werewolf bites a vampire, who gets the disease?"

Alessa closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as if trying to hold onto the last shred of her sanity.

Jack continued talking. On and on. Rambling about things that didn't make sense. Profound nonsense. The car ride that should've been dead silent was now filled with chaotic, senseless chatter.

The warriors suffered in silence. Alessa pinched the bridge of her nose. She had faced monsters. Demons. Creatures beyond mortal understanding. But this? This was true torment.

…

Inside Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, a young girl with a Southern drawl and a white streak in her hair strolled through the halls with a quiet, hooded boy beside her.

Rogue—Anna Marie—glanced at him.

Tenzin—the newest kid in the mansion—still looked uneasy.

She had noticed it earlier, but now that they were walking through the halls, it was even more obvious. He flinched slightly at loud noises, avoided eye contact with too many people, and his hands were tightly clenched inside his oversized sleeves.

And honestly? She got it.

Getting thrown into an entirely new world, a new home, a new way of life? It wasn't easy for anybody. 

She sighed, offering a small smile. "Hey, sugar, ya look like a cat trapped in a dryer."

Tenzin blinked. "What?"

She chuckled. "Relax, will ya? The mansion ain't bad. You're safe here."

Tenzin hesitated. "I know. But…"

Rogue tilted her head. "But what?"

Tenzin frowned slightly. "There was… that voice. Yesterday. The one that rang across the city. The one claiming dominion and saying to be its guardian."

Rogue snorted. "Oh, that? Don't worry 'bout it." She waved it off. "That kinda thing happens way too often in this city."

Tenzin stared. "…That is not reassuring."

Rogue grinned. "It should be. Means it ain't a big deal. You're safe here. Especially in the mansion."

As they walked through the halls, Rogue's eyes landed on a group of girls eating lunch in the courtyard.

She motioned to them. "You can eat with the girls if ya want."

Tenzin paused. Then—he shook his head. "I'd… rather eat with the boys."

Rogue nodded. "Gotcha. C'mon, then. I'll introduce you."

Rogue led Tenzin through the bustling cafeteria, eventually stopping near a table filled with lively chatter. A group of boys were already deep into their meals, laughing and talking.

At the center of the table sat a blue-skinned, three-fingered boy with a tail wrapped around his chair. Tenzin had never seen someone quite like him.

His strange, demon-like features would have been intimidating—If not for the warm, friendly grin on his face.

Rogue tapped the table. "Alright, boys, y'all brought your translators?"

The group nodded—except for the blue-skinned boy. Then—he suddenly vanished. A sharp BAMF! filled the air, followed by a puff of sulfur-scented smoke. Before Tenzin could even react, the boy reappeared instantly, holding a small earpiece.

He smirked. "I always bring mine."

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Show-off."

She gestured to Tenzin. "This here's Tenzin. He's new, so y'all be nice and help him figure out how lunch works."

The blue-skinned boy grinned, reaching out a three-fingered hand.

"Guten tag! I am Kurt Wagner. But in the circus, I was known as the incredible Nightcrawler!"

Tenzin hesitated for a second—then shook his hand. "Uh… nice to meet you?"

Kurt grinned wider. "Come, sit! We shall feast like kings!"

Tenzin slowly took a seat, glancing at the rest of the table.

Kurt motioned to the others. "This is Roberto, the rich one. Sam, the Southern one. And Jamie, the one who makes too many of himself."

Jamie Madrox, a brown-haired boy, scoffed. "I do not."

Kurt raised a brow. "You accidentally sneezed this morning and made five copies of yourself."

Jamie shrugged. "Okay, maybe a little."

Tenzin's expression softened slightly. For the while since he got here—he actually felt… welcome.

Kurt nudged him. "So, tell us, my new friend—do monks eat pizza?"

Tenzin hesitated. "Uh. I don't think there was a rule against it?"

Kurt grinned. "Excellent! Roberto, buy the new guy some pizza."

Roberto groaned. "Why do I have to pay?"

Kurt grinned mischievously. "Because you are rich."

Roberto sighed, but pulled out his wallet anyway. "Fine. But just this once."

Tenzin blinked. And for the first time all day—he smiled.