Chapter 41 – The Old Master and the Spy

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Jack stroked his fake beard with exaggerated wisdom, his golden eyes gleaming with playful mischief as he stared down at Nick Fury and Maria Hill, still tied up before him.

Nick sat stiffly, watching Jack like one would observe a rabid animal—cautious, analyzing, waiting for the moment it would strike.

Hill was more practical. She wasn't wasting time trying to decode the madness of Jack Hou. Instead, her fingers subtly worked at the rope binding her wrists, slowly, carefully loosening the knot.

He sighed dramatically and turned away, looking wistfully at the ceiling, as if recalling some distant memory.

"Ahhh… my foolish apprentice…" Jack lamented in an over-the-top manner. "I remember the first time I met him… He was a scrawny little bastard with no talent for martial arts, no patience, no discipline—just a mouth too big for his own good and a body too weak to back it up. A truly pathetic creature."

Nick arched a brow. Hill kept working at the ropes, barely sparing Jack a glance.

"And yet!" Jack suddenly turned on his heel, raising a finger to the sky as if delivering a divine revelation. "Through years of relentless beatings, starvation, and psychological torment, I molded him into something formidable! I made him great!"

Hill's hands stilled for just a second. Nick leaned back slightly, his one eye narrowing. "Starvation and psychological torment?" Fury repeated slowly.

Jack nodded sagely.

"Oh yes, the finest teaching methods! I made sure he fought wild beasts for his meals, left him in the freezing mountains for days, had him sleep on nails, punched him awake, whacked him for talking back, threw him off cliffs—classic training regimens!"

Hill didn't even stop working the ropes. "You're describing child abuse."

Jack clicked his tongue.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. You Westerners and your soft hearts. I call it tough love. And look at him now—seven years later, he's the most handsome, most powerful, most enlightened man in all of New York City!"

Nick frowns deepen. "You are talking about yourself, aren't you?"

Jack grinned. "You catch on quickly, young one."

Hill sighed under her breath. She finally managed to loosen the knot. Another few minutes and she'd be free.

Jack pretended not to notice Hill's subtle movements. Instead, he let out another exaggerated sigh and waved his hand. "All of you, leave."

The clones—who had been leaning against the walls, balancing cups on their heads, playing with chopsticks, and generally being an audience—suddenly stood up straight.

One of them mock-saluted. "Welp, that's our cue. Enjoy the mind games, boss."

And with that, every single one of them exited the house, leaving only Jack, Nick, and Hill in the room.

Hill froze. Nick's expression subtly tensed.

Jack turned back to them with a slow smile, sitting cross-legged in front of them. "Now, now…" Jack wagged a finger. "Agent Hill, stop what you're trying to do."

Hill went still. Nick frowned deeply. "…How do you know her name?" he asked carefully.

Jack tilted his head. "Hmmm? Oh, that? That's easy! I just know things."

Hill slowly, reluctantly moved her hands away from the now-loosened rope.

Nick was no fool. Knowing Maria's name could be chalked up to research, maybe some old files. But knowing her rank? That was problematic. And more importantly… "You also called me by name," Nick noted, his voice edged with quiet suspicion.

Jack grinned wider. "Well, yes. But you're more famous than her, aren't you? Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. The one-eyed man in the land of the blind. The master of secrets who thinks he sees all."

Nick didn't react outwardly, but internally, alarms were ringing. S.H.I.E.L.D. had scoured databases across the world for information on Jack Hou.

Nothing.

Not a birth record. Not a passport. Not a school ID. Not even a single fingerprint in any known system. Jack Hou did not exist. And yet… Jack knew about him.

"And you," Jack continued, staring directly into Fury's one eye, "stop psychoanalyzing my answers and questions."

Hill stiffened. Because they hadn't introduced themselves. Not even once. Nick exhaled slowly. This just got complicated.

Nick had spent years mastering the art of reading people. He could smell a liar from a mile away, pick apart a nervous tic, and unravel even the most carefully woven deceptions.

But Jack Hou wasn't like anyone he had ever encountered. His words were erratic, his mannerisms unhinged, but his mind—his mind was sharp. Too sharp. Beneath the nonsense, there was a deliberate method to his madness.

Jack knew more than he let on. Jack saw more than he should. And worst of all? Jack was enjoying every second of this. Fine. If games weren't working, it was time to be direct.

"What is your end goal here, Jack?" Nick finally asked, his voice even.

Jack leaned back, stroking his fake beard again, as if contemplating. Then, he slowly smirked. "My apprentice will do whatever he wants." His golden eyes gleamed with mischief as he regarded Nick Fury, who remained stone-faced, and Maria Hill, who was barely holding back her exasperation.

"But I can assure you," Jack continued, voice slow and deliberate, "I will never do anything against our planet or its inhabitants."

Nick narrowed his eye. "You sound like an alien."

Jack grinned. "What can I say? I'm too in love with my newfound freedom."

Nick studied him carefully. This was the part that confused him the most about Jack Hou. He was just… doing whatever the hell he wanted. That made him unpredictable. And Nick Fury hated unpredictable elements.

"What are you doing in Hell's Kitchen?" Nick asked.

Jack tilted his head, amused. "Oh, just some light house cleaning. Decluttering the trash. Sweeping the streets. You know, the usual."

Nick sighed. "I don't care what happens with Kingpin," he said, voice firm. "But I advise you not to kill him."

Jack raised a brow, then laughed. "Why not? To kill him is to bless this world. You should be thanking me."

Nick raise brow. "You might be busy with whatever the hell you're doing in your territory, but outside of Hell's Kitchen, people are shouting and protesting your actions."

Jack paused, then threw his head back and let out a long, maniacal laugh. "Kekekekekekekeke!"

"Let them," he said. "It's their decision. Who am I to tell them otherwise?"

Nick narrowed his eye. This guy… really doesn't care. Jack didn't seem to be in this for glory. He didn't care about being loved or hated. He was willing to let the world throw insults at him without lifting a finger to justify his actions. That was dangerous. Because a man who didn't seek validation couldn't be manipulated.

"Let's make a deal," Nick finally said.

Jack leaned forward, intrigued. "Ooooh, the legendary Nick Fury is making a deal? How exciting."

"Spare Kingpin," Nick said, "and let S.H.I.E.L.D. handle the rest."

Jack clicked his tongue. "Wow. That's generous. Surely you want something else out of me."

Nick kept his expression neutral. In reality, he wanted Jack as an asset. Even if Jack wasn't on the level of someone like Carol Danvers, the fact that he was here, on Earth, permanently, made him a potential force for global defense. But he wasn't about to say that out loud. 

"Let's just say I need to dip my hands into this before the higher-ups get… impatient," Nick said carefully.

Jack hummed, stroking his fake beard as if contemplating the weight of the universe. Then he smirked. "Sure. I swear not to kill Wilson Fisk with my hands."

Nick exhaled slowly. "Good." He nodded. "We will be monitoring your movements. So please, don't touch my agents following you."

Jack grinned. "Oh, come on, I've already let Phil Coulson snoop around my territory. Don't worry."

Yet again, Jack casually mentioning Phil Coulson confirmed two terrifying things: one, that he knew S.H.I.E.L.D. was watching him, and two, that he knew who was watching him.

Nick was now absolutely certain—Jack Hou knew far more than he should. And that was a problem.

Hill cleared her throat. "Can you let us go now?" she asked.

Jack snapped his fingers, and the ropes fell off like they were never tied in the first place. Nick rubbed his wrists as he stood up, adjusting his coat.

Hill was about to leave when—"Agent Hill," Jack suddenly called.

She paused, turning her head slightly.

Jack grinned. "You can cuff me if you want, but only if it's in a non-professional setting, preferably with candles and soft music."

Hill exhaled sharply through her nose. "Go fuck yourself."

"Ooooh, Agent Hill, so aggressive! I love it!"

Nick grabbed Hill's arm and pulled her toward the exit. "We're leaving before he starts reciting poetry."

Jack cupped his hands around his mouth. "CALL ME, AGENT HILL! I'LL MAKE YOU MY SECRETARY OF DEFENSE!"

The door slammed shut behind them.

Jack chuckled to himself. "Man, I love pissing off government officials, as long as it's not the IRS."

…

The grounds of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters were buzzing with excitement. For the first time in years, Professor Xavier had granted permission for the students to leave the mansion for Halloween.

But with a condition—They could only go to one place. Jack Hou's "Golden Peach" territory. The safest part of New York City.

It still felt strange to many of the students. Just months ago, Hell's Kitchen was considered a criminal-infested wasteland, and now it was the only place Professor X deemed safe?

Even Scott Summers was having a hard time wrapping his head around that. He adjusted his faux leather glove, tightening his grip on the plastic rapier hanging from his belt.

"Alright, kids!" he called out, standing near the mansion's driveway. "Let's get in line! I don't want anyone getting left behind!"

Beside him stood his younger brother Alex, better known as Havok, dressed in matching musketeer attire.

Their little brother, Gabriel Summers—the youngest of the three, barely twelve—stood between them, swinging his plastic rapier dramatically. "En garde, villains! Thou shall taste the steel of—" Gabriel started.

Scott immediately grabbed him by the cape. "You're gonna poke an eye out before we even leave," he scolded.

Alex snickered. "Cut him some slack, brother. This is the most fun he's had since enrolling."

Scott sighed but gave Gabriel a light pat on the head. "Fine. Just… try not to cause trouble, alright?"

Gabriel beamed. "I make no promises!"

Scott groaned but turned back to his task.

The second-generation X-Men—the younger students—were in a chaotic line, struggling to contain their excitement.

Kurt Wagner was in a classic vampire costume, complete with a black cape and a ruffled collar. He kept teleporting between different groups of students, adding to the chaos.

"Scott, my friend, I do not think you realize the impossibility of this task!" Kurt said dramatically, appearing beside Scott for a split second before vanishing again.

"Kurt, if you teleport one more time, I'm banning you from candy."

Kurt immediately reappeared, looking horrified. "Mein Gott, you are cruel."

Jamie Madrox aka Multiple Man, had already cloned himself into three copies, all of them trying to coordinate a marching formation. "Alright, troops! We will march in an orderly fashion!" One of his clones shoved him. "Bro, shut up."

Roberto Da Costa was flexing dramatically in his superhero costume, a cheap Batman knockoff that he had clearly thrown together last-minute. "What do you think, Scott? Maybe Gotham needs a new Dark Knight?"

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose. "The only thing Gotham needs is for you to get in the car."

Samuel Guthrie grinned. "Man, I still can't believe we're doing this. Trick-or-treating in Jack Hou's territory? This guy's the most wanted man in New York."

"Correction," Scott said. "He's the most wanted man by the authorities. The people living in his territory seem to think he's a damn saint."

Sean Cassidy smirked. "A saint covered in blood, but a saint nonetheless."

Scott exhaled. "Just don't get into any trouble. This is a school trip, not a field mission."

Kitty Pryde passed by, dressed as a witch, rolling her eyes. "Scott, you really need to loosen up. It's Halloween, not a military exercise."

"Tell that to Professor," Scott muttered.

Jubilation Lee was lighting up tiny firework bursts from her fingertips as she walked past with some of the younger students. "Alright, losers! Time to get in the cars before Professor changes his mind!"

The younger kids quickly piled into the waiting vehicles, eager to head out.

While Scott struggled with the younger students, the older students stood off to the side, already prepared and waiting.

Jean Grey, dressed as a Greek goddess, shook her head at Scott. "You're way too stressed."

Scott adjusted his glove. "Someone has to be."

Remy LeBeau smirked, spinning his playing cards between his fingers. "Relax, mon ami. We're just here for a good time. 'Sides, I hear this Jack fella throws one hell of a parade."

Bobby Drake adjusted his jacket. "I don't trust him, honestly. He gives me the creeps. But hey, free candy."

Anna Marie crossed her arms. "Ah still don't know how we convinced Professor to let us go."

Petra chimed in. "Because he trusts Jack's territory more than the NYPD, apparently."

Suzanne Chan sighed. "Honestly, I just wanna see how crazy it is."

While the students prepared to leave, the teachers stood off to the side, observing.

Ororo Munroe looked over the students with a calm smile. "They're all excited. This is good for them."

Piotr Rasputin nodded. "Da. The students need moments like this. Too often, they worry only of battle."

Dr. Moira MacTaggert crossed her arms. "Still, it's ironic. The only safe place for them in New York… is run by a lunatic."

Ororo smirked. "A lunatic who has been nothing but accommodating to our kind."

Colossus chuckled. "I admit, I am… curious about this 'Golden Peach' of his."

Moira sighed. "Let's just hope we don't regret this."

The cars started loading up. The younger students piled into their designated vehicles, while the older students took another.

Scott took one last headcount. "Alright, we're all set. Let's move out."

As the convoy of Xavier students drove toward Hell's Kitchen, excitement buzzed through the air.

Tonight was going to be unforgettable.

**A/N**

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