Marvel: Monkey King

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Flashback several years ago…

The breeze rustled through the ancient trees, carrying the scent of wild peaches and earth. The air was thick with the weight of time. A young Jack Hou sat under the ancient tree, legs crossed, arms folded, scowling like a child being forced to eat vegetables.

Before him, his master—Master Perv—stood with his hands behind his back, his piercing golden eyes watching Jack with amusement and mild disappointment. "Steady yourself, stone monkey," His master commanded. His voice was like rolling thunder wrapped in silk. "Feel your connection to the wind and the earth. Let the world carve its shape into your body. Temper it. Sculpt it. Become one with the flow."

Jack's eyelids twitched. "Ahhhhhh, I don't know, you fucking old ashes!" Jack threw his arms up in frustration. "My body's still recovering from the bruises you gave me!"

His master tilted his head, unimpressed. Then, without hesitation, he bonked Jack on the head with a force that sent a sharp ringing through his skull.

BAM.

Jack yelped. "OWW! YOU BASTARD! I SWEAR TO—"

"Focus." His master's voice was as firm as stone.

Jack clutched his head, glaring. "I'm TRYING, you crypt keeper! But meditation is HARD! I don't feel shit! I'm just sitting here like an idiot!"

His master sighed. "I am teaching you what you already know. This should not be difficult."

Jack blinked. Then his face scrunched up in pure disbelief. "WHAT?! I never ONCE in my LIFE meditated before you KIDNAPPED me! How the hell do I already know?! Stop lying to me, old man!"

His master gave him a long, unreadable stare. Then, he scoffed, shaking his head. "Do you know how many immortals would give up their immortality just to receive a single lesson from me?"

Jack rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't fall out. "Who cares?" he scoffed. "Who the hell would even WANT to be immortal? Sounds boring. Part of life is knowing you're gonna die someday."

His master raised a brow. For the first time, Jack saw something flicker in his master's golden eyes. A moment of… understanding. As if, for just a second, Jack had spoken a truth his master had long buried.

"Besides, being immortal means you can't claim life insurance. That's the real tragedy." Then, as expected—Jack ruined it.

His master's eye twitched. Then, without another word, he grabbed Jack's ankle, hoisted him up, and—WHOOSH. Tied him upside down from a massive tree.

Jack dangled helplessly, arms flailing. "OI! YOU GERIATRIC FUCK!" Jack howled. "MY BODY'S STILL NOT FULLY HEALED!"

His master adjusted his robes, ignoring him completely. "New lesson. Perhaps you can focus better while hanging upside down."

Jack's eye twitched. "YOU'RE JUST MAKING THIS UP AS YOU GO!"

His master was already walking away. His voice echoed through the courtyard. "Find your center, Jack. Feel your surroundings. Come back to your senses."

Jack glared at his master's retreating back. Then, as the blood rushed to his head, he muttered under his breath. "...One day, I'm gonna put your old ass in a nursing home."

Jack dangled upside down, swaying slightly with the wind. His arms hung limp, his long black hair brushing against his shoulders as the blood slowly rushed to his head. The world around him remained eerily still.

Above him, the massive ancient tree stretched toward the heavens, its leaves rustling like whispering ghosts.

Below him, the old courtyard sprawled out like a faded painting, bathed in the soft golden light of the setting sun. The small wooden shack, where his master forced him to eat the most disgusting food imaginable, stood in the corner, weathered but sturdy.

The training grounds—where his master had beaten discipline and trauma into his bones—sat right next to it, the dirt still marked with faint scars of their past sparring sessions.

All of it looked so damn peaceful from up here. Even if it was upside down.

Jack sighed, exasperated. "Find my center…" he muttered under his breath, repeating his master's words. "Feel the surroundings… feel the wind… let it carve me…"

He closed his eyes. Breathe in. The air was crisp, cool, carrying the scent of earth, bark, and faint traces of incense. Breathe out. His mind emptied, his body settling into the strange rhythm of stillness and motion.

Then… he felt it. A shift. Something stirred deep within him—something ancient, something primal. The void inside his mind wasn't just emptiness anymore. It was a canvas waiting to be painted.

Then, for the first time… Light. A specter of warmth. A sun. It rose slowly, casting golden hues across the void, chasing away the darkness. It wasn't just a metaphor. It was real. A radiance that belonged to him. Jack's mind steadied. His soul, which had once been an abyss, now had a horizon.

He opened his eyes. The sky was darker now. Hours must have passed. And below him—his master stood, arms crossed, watching with that same infuriating smirk. "How is it, monkey?" His master asked. "Did my method work?"

Jack blinked. Then, grinning like a madman, he cackled. "Not your method, old man. It was all me." He puffed out his chest. "I made a sun in my soul. It's all me, baby."

The master rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Alright, dinner time. Come down, monkey."

Jack's stomach growled. "Oii! Get me down!" Jack shouted, wriggling like a fish on a hook.

His master turned, already walking away. "Oh? It's all you, remember? Get down yourself."

Jack's eye twitched. Then—his nose twitched. His head jerked toward the courtyard below. Meat. The rich, mouthwatering scent of sizzling pork ribs drifted up from the firepit. Jack's eyes widened. "YOU GOT MEAT?!"

The master sat down at the fire, already pulling apart a juicy rib. "Not for long, if you don't hurry up." He took a slow, deliberate bite.

Jack froze. His survival instincts kicked in. His hunger overpowered all reason. Jack twisted, swung, contorted—straining every muscle to break free from the ropes binding him. The smell of pork ribs was driving him insane. "HURRY UP AND UNTIE ME, YOU OLD SHIT!"

His master ignored him, licking his fingers.

Jack thrashed harder, until—SNAP. The ropes tore. Jack plummeted, landing on his back with a painful thud. But—he didn't care. His nose locked onto the meat. He scrambled to his feet, sprinting toward his master. "GIMME THAT!"

But—as he reached the firepit… The meat was gone. All that remained were the stale vegetables his master usually forced him to eat. Jack froze. His eye twitched. His soul cracked. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

His master cackled, leaping to his feet. Jack immediately grabbed a plate and hurled it at him.

His master dodged effortlessly, still laughing. "Good! Let's do cardio while we're at it!"

Jack grabbed anything within reach—a bowl, a ladle, a goddamn chair—And thus began the most intense foot chase in the history of master and student.

…

Back to the present time…

Inside his soulscape, Jack stood atop the mighty peak of Mount Huaguo. The winds howled, stirring the ancient trees, sending leaves dancing through the golden mist. Jack gripped his staff, Ruyi Jingu Bang, and cackled. "Kekekekeke…! Ahhh, I forgot how much fun that time was."

Then, he glanced at the great halls of his temple—his inner sanctum. Though it was majestic, vast, and powerful… it was still empty.

Jack tapped his staff against the stone ground, his grin widening. "Ruyi Jingu Bang… my old friend…" He muttered, running his fingers along its surface. The staff trembled in response. 

Jack chuckled. "Oh? You're getting bored too, huh? Wanna go on an adventure? Maybe find something new to liven up this hall?" The staff vibrated again—this time more insistently.

Jack paused, tilting his head. Then, he laughed, realization hitting him. "Oh yeah, yeah. I almost forgot. First, we gotta clean up the Golden Peach. Can't just leave my people behind like that."

His golden eyes gleamed as he turned toward the towering peach trees growing along his territory. Each one was connected to his power—his domain. Their roots stretched beyond the confines of his soul, sinking deep into the streets of Hell's Kitchen, weaving into the very foundation of the land he had claimed.

The Golden Peach.

Jack grinned, his laughter echoing through the mountains. "Kekekekekekeke… let's finish up here. Then we'll go on a journey."

…

Jack's eyes snapped open. He was still in the interrogation room. The cold, sterile air pressed against his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his soul. 

Jack tilted his head, stretching his arms as if he had just woken up from a deep nap. Then, he noticed something new. Across from him, a woman sat, her posture perfect, her hands neatly folded on the table.

She was poised, professional—clearly someone meant to break him down. But Jack? He was too busy grinning. Because with just a glance, he knew. Beyond the one-way mirror, hidden behind thick layers of government tech, there were people watching.

No—not just people. Powerful people. He could sense them, their energies buzzing like flies trapped behind glass. Generals. World leaders. Elite officials tuning in from their secret, high-security bunkers, watching this interrogation unfold in real-time.

Jack smirked, ignoring them completely. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, and turned his golden gaze toward the woman in front of him.

"Well, well, well…" he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. "And who might you be, my lovely executioner?" His grin widened. "Or are you here to confess your sins to me?"

…

Several hours ago…

The high noon sun bathed New York City in bright hues. The streets bustled as people carried on their routines, but beneath the surface…chaos simmered.

Inside a hidden S.H.I.E.L.D. base, deep within the heart of the city, Director Nick Fury was in full damage-control mode. His eyepatch barely concealed the twitch in his brow as he barked orders left and right, commanding agents to handle the fallout.

"I want an immediate lockdown on media outlets spreading misinformation!" Fury growled, slamming his fist onto the holo-table. "Get me every damn operative we have working on damage control—NOW. I don't care if they're halfway to retirement, get their asses on this mess."

Agents scrambled, moving swiftly to follow his orders.

Maria Hill, standing beside him, crossed her arms. "Sir, with all due respect, what exactly are we cleaning up here? Because from where I'm standing, Jack just wiped out an entire crime empire in less than a month, exposed the sins of the city, and somehow got the entire media industry in a chokehold."

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, and you know what else he did? He just handed me a giant 'fuck you' by technically keeping his deal with me."

Hill raised a brow. "Sir?"

Fury gritted his teeth. "That motherfucker killed Kingpin with a damn stick."

Hill blinked. "Sir, respectfully—he did technically tell you that he will not kill Kingpin with his hands?"

Fury whirled on her. "Do I look like I care about technicalities, Hill?!" He gestured wildly at the holographic reports. "I now have to deal with an entire city's worth of people questioning who the hell they should trust and a public meltdown over the fact that Jack Hou just pulled off what even the government couldn't do in decades!"

Hill smirked. "Yeah. Sounds like a 'SHIELD' problem, sir."

Fury threw his arms up. "Goddamn lunatics."

…

The media was in shambles. Every major news station was scrambling—some trying to do damage control, others outright imploding. 

Why? Because Jack Hou had done something worse than just tearing down Wilson Fisk. He exposed them. One by one, evidence surfaced—files, recordings, leaked emails. It wasn't just that they had covered for Kingpin.

No. It was worse. They had taken bribes, fabricated false reports, and outright ignored the suffering of Hell's Kitchen.

Now? It was all on the internet. And the internet never forgets. Social media was a war zone. On one side—Jack Hou's supporters. On the other—his haters, scrambling for any argument that wouldn't immediately get them ratio'd into oblivion.

Trending Hashtags on Twitter: #GoldenPeachRises #FuckTheMedia #MutantMenace #JackDidNothingWrong 

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@NYCtruthbomb:

"So let me get this straight. A guy singlehandedly cleans up Hell's Kitchen, exposes corruption, and the media's response is 'but he's dangerous' ???" 

112K likes | 37K retweets

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@MemeLordsUnited:

"Me: 'Jack is a war criminal.' Also me: posting memes of Jack's glorious 'peach'🍑. #NoHomoWithHomies" 

87K likes | 20K retweets

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@MutantHater57:

"This is why we need stricter mutant laws. If Jack Hou can do this, imagine what the others are capable of. #MutantMenace" 

12K likes | 89K comments.

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@Jack4President:

"Petition to change 'Hell's Kitchen' to 'Jack's Garden.'" 

55K likes | 14K retweets

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@JournalistReborn:

"How the hell did we let this happen? Years of covering up Kingpin's crimes and ONE MAN unravels it in WEEKS. Journalism is dead." 

20K likes | 5K retweets

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At New York's City Hall, chaos reigned. The mayor? He was dragged from his penthouse in front of the entire city. His secret dealings with Kingpin? Exposed. His financial records? Leaked. His private messages? Hacked and spread like wildfire.

The people had turned against him. Some called for his immediate arrest. Others? They wanted him to be dropped right in front of Jack's doorstep.

The message was clear: New York was on fire. And Jack Hou? He was the only one still laughing.

**A/N**

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**A/N**