"Fruit... good fruit..."
The Hulk didn't care about the philosophical implications of martial arts or the deep-rooted discipline of the East. In his mind, it was a simple transaction: move body in boring ways, get the sweet, crunchy things. His eyes, usually filled with chaotic rage, were now focused on Huang Wen with the intensity of a toddler promised ice cream. "Hulk! Practice! Smash... no, box!"
"Focus, Big Guy. If you want the rewards, you have to follow the rules," Huang Wen said, dropping his Vajra Indestructible Divine Skill. The golden hue faded from his skin, returning him to his unassuming appearance. He stood in the center of the ruins and spread his feet. "Watch me. This is called a Horse Stance. It's the foundation of everything."
Huang Wen didn't bother with the Two-Character Sheep Stance from Wing Chun. That required a level of internal leg rotation and subtle tension that would probably result in the Hulk accidentally snapping his own femurs or, more likely, just getting frustrated and throwing a tantrum. Instead, he taught him a standard, deep Mabu.
As he watched the giant try to mimic the posture, Huang Wen began to plan. Wing Chun is definitely out. It's too focused on 'short-bridge' power and rapid-fire deflections. Hulk doesn't need to deflect; he is the deflection. Bajiquan would be perfect—the 'Eight Extremities' style is all about explosive, earth-shaking power. Too bad I haven't rolled that from the system yet.
For now, he decided on Hung Kuen. It was steady, powerful, and relied on a solid base. It was the "Iron Wire" of martial arts, and if the Hulk could master even the basics of its structure, he wouldn't just be a brawler; he'd be a fortress.
"Hulk... this is stupid!" After exactly three minutes, the giant's knees started to wobble—not from fatigue, but from pure, unadulterated boredom. To a creature built for smashing, standing still was a form of psychological torture. "Boring! No smash! Where fruit?"
"No stance, no fruit," Huang Wen countered with a calm, annoying smile. "Think of it this way, Hulk. You spend all day in Banner's head, bored out of your mind anyway, right? At least here, the boredom pays in apples. It's a job. You're a professional now."
"Job... boring... fruit..." Hulk muttered, his giant brow furrowing as he processed the logic. Eventually, the desire for a snack won out. He gritted his teeth and sank back into the stance, his massive thighs tensing like tectonic plates. "Hulk... professional!"
"Boss! Where are you hiding?" Logan's voice echoed through the tunnels, sounding uncharacteristically chipper.
Huang Wen glanced at the Hulk. "Don't move. If I come back and see you've shifted an inch, the fruit goes to the dogs."
"Hulk never slacks!" the giant barked, staring at a piece of rebar with murderous intensity, determined to out-discipline the boredom.
Huang Wen vanished in a ripple of light and reappeared in the main hangar where Logan, John, and Zhong Qiang were gathered. Logan was standing there with a cocky grin, his chest puffed out.
"I've got it, Boss. I've actually got it," Logan said, his voice gravelly with excitement. "Internal energy. I can feel the 'Qi' or whatever you call it sloshing around in my gut. I'm a natural."
Huang Wen raised an eyebrow, a skeptical smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "A natural, huh? It's been, what, a few days? Most people spend a decade just finding their Dantian. Fine, show me. Activate the Vajra Indestructible Divine Skill. Let's see that golden glow."
"Watch and learn, kid," Logan tossed a wink at John.
He closed his eyes, his breathing slowed, and he tapped into that new, warm reservoir of energy in his lower abdomen. Suddenly, a pulse of golden light erupted from his core. His skin took on the same metallic sheen Huang Wen used, and for a moment, Logan looked like a living statue of a Greek god—if that god had mutton chops and a bad attitude.
John and Zhong Qiang gasped in awe. It was a sight to behold.
And then, exactly three seconds later... fizzle.
The gold vanished. Logan was back to being a hairy Canadian in a tank top. His triumphant expression froze, replaced by a look of profound confusion.
Huang Wen didn't even try to hide it. He burst out laughing. "I told you, Logan! This skill requires a massive reserve of internal energy. You're trying to run a V8 engine on a thimble of gasoline. Three seconds? That's not a transformation; that's a camera flash."
But as Huang Wen was mocking him, something strange happened. Logan's face twisted in concentration, and snap—the gold was back.
Three seconds later, it vanished again.
Then it came back. And vanished. It was like a faulty neon sign.
Huang Wen's laughter died down. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Wait... Logan, stop. How are you doing that? Your Dantian should be bone-dry."
"I don't know," Logan gasped, looking a bit winded but otherwise fine. "The energy runs out, yeah. It feels like a void. But then my healing factor kicks in. It's like my body sees the lack of energy as an 'injury' and rushes to fix it. It's pumping new Qi back into the tank as fast as I can burn it."
Huang Wen was stunned. His mutation is literally 'healing' his fatigue and replenishing his energy reserves? That's a total cheat code!
"It's a good thing, Logan. It means you have infinite stamina in the long run," Huang Wen said, though he couldn't help but keep the teasing tone. "But for now, you're just a golden strobe light. You need to focus on the 'quality' of the energy, not just the 'recovery.' You need to break that three-second barrier, or you'll just be giving your enemies a seizure instead of a fight."
"Hahahaha!" Zhong Qiang, who had been struggling to memorize the complex meridian maps, couldn't help himself. "Three-second Logan! That's going to be your new nickname on the street!"
John joined in, pointing at the "Golden Wolverine" who couldn't stay golden. Logan's face turned a shade of red that rivaled a sunset.
"Laugh it up, you little punks!" Logan growled, his claws "snikting" out for emphasis. "I'm going to go hit the weights. I'm not coming out until I hit at least ten seconds. And Zhong Qiang? If you haven't memorized those maps by dinner, I'm using your homework for target practice!"
Logan stomped off into a corner of the base, muttering about "cheating Bosses" and "unbalanced systems."
While the mood in the underground base was light, the atmosphere at Xavier's Academy for Gifted Youngsters was anything but.
The X-Jet had touched down hours ago. The X-Men had returned not as victors, but as a battered group of refugees. In the infirmary, Erik Lehnsherr—the formidable Magneto—lay in a bed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
The pressure points Huang Wen had struck had finally released their physical grip, but the damage remained.
"Charles, what did he do to him?" Raven (Mystique) asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of grief and fury. She looked at Eric, who looked like he had aged twenty years in a single afternoon.
Professor X sat in his wheelchair, his fingers pressed to his temples. He looked exhausted. "I tried to reach into Eric's mind to help him bridge the gap to his nervous system. But there's a... a blockage. Not a mental one, but a physical disharmony. Huang Wen didn't just hit his nerves; he disrupted the flow of Eric's bio-energy."
Charles sighed, looking down at his old friend. "Eric's lower body is completely unresponsive. It's as if his brain has forgotten those limbs exist. And his mutation... whenever he tries to command metal, the feedback loop in his brain triggers a pain response so intense it would knock out an elephant. Huang Wen turned Eric's own power into a torture device."
"I'm going back there," Raven spat, her skin rippling into a dark, scaly blue. "I'll kill him. I'll turn into someone he trusts and put a knife in his throat. He can't do this to us!"
"Raven, stop," Charles commanded, his voice echoing with telepathic authority. "You wouldn't even make it past the front door. Logan is with him. And from what I saw, Logan isn't being held captive. He's learning. He's found something in that man that we couldn't give him."
"Betrayal," Raven whispered. "He's chosen a human over his own kind. Again."
"It's not that simple," Charles said softly. "Huang Wen is an anomaly. He's a human who wields power that rivals our own without a single mutated gene. If we want to help Eric, we have to play by his rules. We need to show him that we aren't the monsters the media says we are."
He looked toward the window, his expression grim. "But we have a more immediate problem. The news is already breaking. A mutant—a teleporter—tried to assassinate the President in the Oval Office. The 'Nightcrawler' incident. This is exactly what Stryker wanted. The world is going to come for us, Raven. And right now, our greatest general is paralyzed in a hospital bed."
Charles looked back at Magneto, a determined glint in his eyes. "We need to find this Nightcrawler. We need to clear our names. And Raven... you need to stay here. Protect the children. If the government decides to raid the school, you are their last line of defense. Hide among them. Be a shadow. I will handle the 'Teacher' in the city when the time is right."
The war for mutant survival had just entered its darkest chapter, and the only man who could tip the scales was currently busy teaching a giant green monster how to stand still for an apple.