Chapter 40 – The Master’s Mask

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The conference room in the S.H.I.E.L.D secret base was dimly lit, the walls lined with monitors streaming various feeds from around the world.

In the center of the room stood Nick Fury, arms crossed, his one good eye sweeping over the holograms surrounding him. The World Security Council and key global leaders flickered in the air, each face tense and weary.

The atmosphere was thick with frustration. And at the center of it all was one name.

Jack Hou.

President Barack Obama was the first to speak. His voice was measured, controlled, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

"Director Fury, this situation is spiraling. The media is in chaos, social unrest is growing, and we're losing control of the narrative. We need to quell public panic. We need to arrest Jack Hou."

Fury let out a slow exhale, already anticipating this conversation. He spoke evenly.

"And how, exactly, are we supposed to do that? The analyst reports paint a clear picture—this guy isn't just some thug playing king of the hill in Hell's Kitchen. He's got real power. I've been pushing the Avenger Initiative for situations like this, but as you all know—"

"We already discussed this," Alexander Pierce interjected sharply, his holographic form flickering. The senior S.H.I.E.L.D official and secret head of HYDRA adjusted his tie, his gaze cold and calculating. "And we already agreed not to move forward with that initiative."

Fury's eyebrow twitched. "Right. So tell me, Pierce, how do you propose we deal with him? I assume you didn't call this meeting just to complain about my lack of results."

Pierce leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "We send our full manpower. Jack Hou is one man. We are an army. Overwhelm him. Crush him under sheer force."

There was a pause. Then, President Obama frowned. "And how many casualties are you willing to accept for that plan?"

Pierce didn't even hesitate. "As many as it takes."

The room fell into an uneasy silence.

Obama rubbed his temples, sighing deeply. "No one is 'nuking' New York City. Even if it's just Hell's Kitchen."

Fury nodded approvingly. "Glad we're not going full Dr. Strangelove here."

Obama glanced toward Fury. "Then tell me, Fury. What's your plan? We can't ignore this."

Fury paused, then leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.

"Look, we all know Jack isn't your standard criminal. The guy clearly operates under his own moral code. He isn't targeting civilians, he's not looking to overthrow governments, and he sure as hell isn't trying to burn the world down. He's going after organized crime. We need to ask ourselves—is he really our enemy, or is he just an inconvenience?"

The British Prime Minister snorted.

"That's rich coming from the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Aren't you supposed to be, oh, I don't know… shielding the world from threats like him?"

Fury glared at the Prime Minister.

"With all due respect, Prime Minister, my organization isn't your personal sword to swing around whenever the world gets uncomfortable. We don't just remove people because they challenge the status quo."

"Status quo?" Pierce said, eyes narrowing. "You call mass executions of criminals challenging the status quo?"

Fury shrugged.

"I call it Hell's Kitchen being a little quieter at night. Look, I won't pretend I'm happy about Jack running around like a goddamn warlord, but the truth is? Sending a full military response is suicide. We don't even know the full extent of his abilities yet. You want me to send my agents in blind?"

William Stryker, one of the U.S. military's top anti-mutant strategists, leaned forward with a knowing smirk. "Then why not send the X-Men?"

The room fell silent.

Fury's eyebrow twitched again, but this time with barely restrained anger.

Stryker continued, feigning innocence. "You have connections with Charles Xavier, do you not? They specialize in dealing with powerful individuals. Let their people handle it."

Fury scoffed. "Oh, I see what you're trying to do. You want to shift the blame onto the mutants. If they fail? It becomes their problem. If they succeed? You get to say it was a mutant issue all along. Smart. Underhanded, but smart."

Stryker leaned back, smirking. "I'm just suggesting a practical solution."

Obama pinched the bridge of his nose. "Goddamn it, Fury. Your entire organization exists to handle these kinds of threats, and all you're giving me is 'we don't know enough'? Figure it out. Because if you don't, I will."

Fury leaned back in his chair, silent for a moment. Then, he exhaled sharply and stood up. "Fine. I'll go down to Hell's Kitchen myself and meet this guy in person."

There was a beat of silence before the British Prime Minister let out a sharp laugh. "You? Going personally? Are you mad?"

Fury smirked. "Clearly. But analyzing him from a distance isn't getting us anywhere. It's time for some good old-fashioned fieldwork."

Obama sighed, rubbing his temples again. "Alright, fine. But let me be clear—if he refuses to cooperate, you will bring him in. I'll have General Ross secure the perimeter around Hell's Kitchen to ensure containment."

Fury paused, then nodded. "Understood."

As the holograms flickered and the meeting ended, Fury stood in the empty conference room, rolling the situation over in his mind.

He was walking into a goddamn mess. But if there was one thing Nick Fury knew how to do, it was to handle messes.

With one last sigh, he muttered to himself as he left the room. "Let's see what the hell makes this Jack Hou tick."

…

Jack blinked as he looked into the mirror. His usual golden gaze flickered with amusement as he took in his reflection.

Draped in a loose, oversized robe, his hair tied up in an unkempt bun, and a fake long white beard that reached his chest, he looked exactly like the old man who had, in his words, "kidnapped him and proceeded to break every bone in his body in the name of training."

Master Perv.

Aunty Vivi, standing beside him, dusted off his sleeves and beamed proudly. "The clones said this man was important to you," she said, patting his shoulder. "So I had them describe him to me."

Jack tilted his head, stroking the fake beard with a dramatic sigh.

"Ah, yes… Master Perv. The noble sage. The enlightened philosopher. The wise old mentor who definitely didn't just snatch me off the streets and beat the hell out of me for years until I could walk through walls and punch the air so hard it made shockwaves."

The clones standing around all nodded sagely, arms crossed. "True wisdom."

Aunty Vivi's expression shifted slightly, her motherly instincts kicking in. "Wait… Are you saying this man just… took you?"

Jack shrugged. "Eh. Potato, po-tah-to. Kidnapping, extreme scholarship opportunity—who's keeping track?"

Aunty Vivi frowned, clearly unsure how to process that information, but Jack had already turned back to the mirror, rubbing his chin.

Then, his gaze darkened, and a slow grin spread across his face. "Well, if I'm going as the old man, I might as well not hold back this time."

The clones in the room all grinned, some clapping, others rubbing their hands together in excitement. "Of course!" one of them said. "Let's go all out!"

Aunty Vivi, still slightly lost on what exactly Jack was planning, simply nodded along to the energy in the room. "Yes… go all out… on what, exactly?"

Jack turned to her, his grin widening. "Chaos, Aunty Vivi. Pure, unfiltered chaos."

Aunty Vivi sighed, shaking her head with a chuckle. "Just don't miss the parade."

Jack flipped his new beard over his shoulder dramatically. "Miss it? Please. I have eyes everywhere."

Aunty Vivi gently touched Jack's cheek, her warmth cutting through his usual manic energy for just a second. "I meant you, Jack. Not your clones. You need to pace yourself."

Jack paused. For a moment, something unreadable flickered in his expression. Then, he smiled softly. "Of course, Aunty." And just like that, the moment was gone.

Jack was halfway out the door when his ear tingled. One of his clones, stationed at his house, spoke up. "Yo, boss. We got some bugs snooping around your place."

Jack tilted his head, amused. "Bugs, huh? Big bugs? Small bugs? Government bugs? Or just some poor idiots with too much curiosity and not enough common sense?"

"Looks like a government type. Not FBI or NYPD, though. Something… higher up."

Jack grinned. "Oh? That's interesting."

The clone chuckled. "Tied 'em up nice and tight for you. Just waiting on your say."

Jack cracked his knuckles. "Good work. I'll be there in five."

As he turned to leave, he gave Aunty Vivi one last, exaggerated bow, waving his fake beard like it was a royal cloak. "And now, dear Aunty, I must go. Duty calls, and a fool awaits their reckoning."

Aunty Vivi just sighed, shaking her head with a fond smile. "Try not to get too carried away."

Jack winked. "Oh, Aunty. You know that's impossible."

And with that, he was gone, vanishing into the night with a spring in his step and mischief in his heart.

…

Jack stroked his fake, long white beard, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief as he gazed at the two high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D agents tied up before him.

Nick Fury and Maria Hill. Hill looked at Jack. Then at Fury. Then back at Jack. Nick looked at Hill. Then at Jack. Then back at Hill. Both of them were clearly thinking the same thing: "We have made a grave mistake."

Jack tilted his head dramatically, his white robe flowing slightly with the movement.

"Hmmmm…" he hummed thoughtfully, brushing his fake beard. "Two government officials tied up in my house, breaking and entering like some lowly thieves… HMMMMMM."

Nick let out a slow breath. "I know who you are, Jack. Drop the charade."

Without missing a beat, Jack reared back his hand and slapped Nick across the face.

SMACK.

The sound echoed through the room. Hill's eyes widened. Fury's jaw tensed. Jack simply sniffed and flicked his sleeve like some wise old sage dispensing divine punishment. "How dare you, young man? No manners toward your elders! Kids these days… back in my time, we respected our elders!"

Nick exhaled through his nose, already regretting every decision that had led him to this moment.

Jack continued to stroke his fake beard, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "I know you're bluffing, you impudent brat. You don't know anything about my apprentice."

Hill blinked.

Fury blinked.

"Apprentice?" Nick repeated, clearly trying to gauge just how far gone Jack was.

Jack nodded solemnly, his expression completely serious.

"Yes, my apprentice. A wild young man, unruly and foolish! A boy with great potential but even greater stupidity! I took him in, taught him the ways of the world, hardened his body, sharpened his mind, and, most importantly, beat the ever-living shit out of him until he became a proper warrior."

Hill was now absolutely convinced that the analysts at S.H.I.E.L.D. needed to be fired. The reports had labeled Jack Hou as erratic, unpredictable, and highly dangerous. They did not mention that he was also an absolute lunatic.

Nick was playing along now, if only because trying to rationalize with this man seemed futile. "I apologize," Nick said, forcing the words out. "I don't know who you are, sir."

Jack grinned beneath his fake beard. "Oh, I'm just an old hermit, wandering the world, searching for a young fool to train and torture. You know—the usual kind."

Nick pressed his lips together. Hill inhaled deeply through her nose.

Jack beamed. "Now, tell me, children. What exactly were you doing snooping around this old man's humble home?"

Hill was already done with this conversation. She let Fury handle it. 

Nick was a man who had stared death in the face a thousand times. And yet, at this moment, he was wondering if it was too late to request early retirement.

**A/N**

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