The sun had barely begun to peek over the jagged skyline of New York when Huang Wen reappeared in his bedroom. To any observer, he looked like a man who had spent forty-eight hours straight in a dark basement—his eyes were slightly bloodshot, and his shoulders hung with a heavy, leaden fatigue.
He didn't immediately move. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the floor, closing his eyes to guide his internal energy through his meridians. As the warm flow of his cultivation method circulated, the mental fog began to lift, and the dull ache in his bones receded.
He glanced down at his left wrist. A sleek, matte-black watch sat there, looking like a high-end luxury timepiece. With a subtle flick of his mind, a tiny blue light pulsed, and a miniature, three-dimensional projection of Silly Girl flickered into existence above the dial.
"Good morning, Boss! You look five percent less like a zombie than you did ten minutes ago," she chirped, her digital voice carrying a playful lilt.
Huang Wen let out a weary chuckle. If anyone saw his state, they might get the wrong idea. But the truth was far less scandalous and much more exhausting. Silly Girl was a genius-level AI, but she lacked a physical form. To turn the cold, industrial basement into a functional laboratory, Huang Wen had spent the entire night acting as the world's most overpowered construction worker.
Using his telekinesis and precision energy control, he had helped Silly Girl assemble delicate robotic arms, micro-drones, and specialized assembly lines. It was delicate work that required absolute focus, and it had drained him more than a fight with the Abomination. Even now, his work wasn't finished—that pool of Adamantium-Vibranium alloy was still waiting for him to return and forge a "Black Box" security room that not even a nuclear strike could penetrate.
"At least the essentials are done," Huang Wen muttered, checking his own 'equipment.'
The Slow-Motion Glasses had been the most difficult. They were no longer clunky frames but had been compressed into a pair of ultra-thin contact lenses. They sat comfortably on his corneas, ready to sync with his neural impulses to slow down the world at a moment's notice.
Then there were the watches. Silly Girl had taken the legendary-grade Tuxedo and, through a process that defied modern physics, converted the nano-material into three specialized wrist-units. One button press would trigger a localized "deployment," wrapping the user in the stealth-capable, ballistic-resistant fabric in less than half a second. It was essentially a wearable fortress.
But it wasn't just the combat suits. Silly Girl had churned out a batch of secondary watches—communication hubs that linked directly to her core and, by extension, to Huang Wen. The gap between an 'Extraordinary' draw and a 'Legendary' one was now painfully obvious to him. The legendary items were so advanced they could effectively 'reverse-engineer' the lower-tier gear into mass-produced tools.
"Jack, get over here. Just you for a second," Huang Wen called out as he stepped into the hallway.
The martial arts hall was a hive of activity. Today was the start of the massive renovation, and the regular students had been given a 'mandatory vacation.' Only the inner circle remained.
"Teacher! Perfect timing," Bruce Banner said, jogging up the stairs. He was dressed in a crisp button-down shirt, looking remarkably put-together, though his hands were shaking slightly. "I just got off the phone with Betty. We've picked a spot. A small park uptown."
Huang Wen looked at the physicist and felt a pang of sympathy. "Relax, Bruce. Take a breath. Your heart rate is climbing, and we both know where that leads."
He reached into his pocket and handed Bruce one of the silver-cased watches. "Here. Wear this. General Ross isn't exactly a 'forgive and forget' kind of guy. Your phone is almost certainly a bugged mess by now, so if things go south with your father-in-law, don't try to be a hero. Press the red button on the side. It sends a distress signal directly to me and Silly Girl. I'll be there in three minutes, tops."
Bruce gripped the watch like a lifeline. "Thank you, Teacher. I... I really want this to go well." He didn't wait around, practically sprinting toward the door with the desperation of a man seeking a second chance at life.
"He's got it bad," Huang Wen smiled, shaking his head. He turned toward the living area where Logan, John, and Yuriko were waiting. "Alright, everyone gets a toy today."
He tossed three watches across the room. Logan caught his with a grunt, John fumbled but caught his against his chest, and Yuriko plucked hers out of the air with surgical precision.
"These are biometrically locked. Don't worry about losing them; they won't work for anyone else," Huang Wen explained. "They're encrypted, untraceable, and have a direct line to my personal AI. If you're in trouble, or if you find something I need to know, use them."
"Nice piece of hardware, Boss," Logan grunted, snapping the band onto his wrist.
"Thank you, Teacher!" John bowed deeply, his eyes shining. He felt a surge of pride; he was finally being trusted with the 'inner circle' secrets.
Just then, Reese Fisk came running up from the first floor. "Teacher, the construction crew is outside. They've got the trucks and the materials, but I told them to hold off until you gave the word. We still have all the old equipment and furniture in the way."
"Right. Let's clear the floor," Huang Wen said.
He walked to the center of the room and closed his eyes. In an instant, his telekinesis expanded like a dome, and he activated the 'Dream Butterfly Escape' technique. To the onlookers, it was a surreal sight. The heavy wooden training dummies, the stacks of mats, the desks, and even the historic 'Wing Chun' plaque hanging over the door began to glow with a soft, ethereal light. Then, with a sound like a rushing wind, they dissolved into specks of golden dust and vanished.
Huang Wen vanished along with them.
A second later, he was in the underground base. The furniture appeared in a neat stack in the corner, safe from the dust and debris of the upcoming construction.
"Boss, you're back," Silly Girl's projection greeted him. The base was already transforming. Small robotic spiders were scurrying across the walls, installing fiber-optic cables, while larger mechanical arms were welding floor-plates. "I've repurposed the old workstations you brought in. I've recovered some interesting encrypted data from the previous owners of this facility."
Huang Wen waved a hand dismissively. "Keep it for now. If there's anything that looks like a threat or a goldmine, let me know. Otherwise, focus on the defense perimeter."
"Copy that, Boss."
With another flick of his power, Huang Wen reappeared in the empty martial arts hall.
Zhong Qiang was staring at the empty space where a heavy sofa had been sitting just seconds ago. "Man... Brother Wen, your moving skills are legendary. If the martial arts thing doesn't work out, we could make millions just doing twenty-four-hour relocation services. No trucks, no heavy lifting, just poof and you're moved."
Smack!
Huang Wen's hand connected with the back of Zhong Qiang's head. "If I have to move your stuff again because you were too lazy to pack, I'm moving you into the East River."
Zhong Qiang rubbed his head, grinning sheepishly. "Hey, just exploring our business options!"
"Reese," Huang Wen turned to the younger Fisk, his expression turning serious. "The renovation is your responsibility. Watch the contractors, make sure they stick to the blueprints Silly Girl sent over. And while you're at it, make sure Zhong Qiang actually memorizes those meridian maps. If he fails his next test, he's doing five hundred squats with Logan sitting on his shoulders."
Zhong Qiang's face went pale. Logan, who was leaning against the wall, gave a slow, predatory grin.
"Uncle Wolf and Yuriko will stay here for a few days to provide muscle if any local gangs get curious," Huang Wen continued. "John, you stay at the hotpot restaurant. Keep an eye on the street. It's the perfect lookout point."
He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the two 'Master' watches—the ones containing the Tuxedo sub-programs. He handed them to Zhong Qiang and Reese.
"Brother Wen... is this what I think it is?" Zhong Qiang whispered, his eyes widening.
"You guys aren't mutants or super-soldiers," Huang Wen said softly. "Your reactions are still human, and your bodies are still soft. These watches contain a specialized protective suit. It'll stop most small-arms fire and help you stay out of sight if things get ugly. Consider it your life insurance."
Zhong Qiang looked like he wanted to hug Huang Wen, but a sharp look from the teacher stopped him.
"Alright, let the crew in. We're moving out," Huang Wen commanded.
As they walked out, the renovation team stood in a neat line near their trucks. They were strangely silent, their eyes downcast and their posture incredibly stiff. The leader of the crew stepped forward, sweating despite the morning chill.
"Mr. Huang," the man said, bowing slightly. "We are honored to handle this project. We have the finest materials. We will work twenty-four hours a day if necessary. Please... don't worry about a thing."
Huang Wen glanced at Reese, who gave a subtle nod. It was clear these weren't ordinary contractors—they were Kingpin's men, likely terrified that if they hammered a nail crookedly, they'd end up in a concrete pillar. It was an amusing irony: the city's most feared criminal organization was now running a high-end interior design service for a Wing Chun teacher.
Just as the first truck began to unload, a black-and-white police cruiser pulled up to the curb. Jack hopped out, adjusting his uniform and looking around at the bustling activity.
"Teacher! I got your message," Jack said, smiling as he approached. "What's the word? Are we finally upgrading the 'old shack' into a palace?"
Huang Wen smiled, patting the third watch in his pocket. "Something like that, Jack. Come inside. I've got something for you."