"I'm leaving the heavy lifting to you guys. Don't make me regret it," Huang Wen said, giving the renovation team a sharp, sweeping look.
He didn't care if they were Kingpin's elite enforcers or just guys who were really good with a drywall saw. The Wing Chun Martial Arts Hall was currently a hollow shell—just the polished marble floor and the memories of sweat and discipline. There wasn't a single piece of furniture left for them to break or steal.
"Master, please, have some faith," Reese Fisk said, stepping forward with a nervous but proud smile. "These men aren't just laborers. They're professionals—vets who have handled high-stakes builds for... well, for my father's more sensitive projects. They know how to keep their mouths shut and their levels straight."
"Since they're your pick, I'll take your word for it," Huang Wen replied, clapping Reese on the shoulder. The young man nearly buckled under the weight of the gesture. "Come on. Once we get Logan and John settled into their temporary digs, I've got a little field trip planned for you three. It's time you saw what real 21st-century tech looks like."
The group made their way toward the hotpot restaurant, walking through the early morning bustle of Chinatown. Zhong Qiang's family home was situated right above the restaurant, a spacious four-bedroom apartment that mirrored the layout of the martial arts hall.
In the original plan, it was simple: Uncle Zhong had his room, while Zhong Qiang and Reese shared the others. But with Logan, Yuriko, and John moving in, the logistics turned into a game of musical chairs. Yuriko was granted a private room—mostly because no one was brave enough to suggest she share—while Zhong Qiang and Reese were relegated to one room, and Logan and John were paired in the other.
"Look, as soon as Logan and Yuriko finish their SpongeBob marathon and head back to the base, you guys will have plenty of breathing room," Huang Wen explained as they dropped their bags.
He turned to the group, his tone shifting into 'Teacher mode.' "Logan, Yuriko, keep the peace. John, I want you shadow-tagging Uncle Zhong. Learn the restaurant's flow, keep your ears open for any chatter on the street, and stay sharp. I'm taking the boys out for a bit, and after that... I'm hitting the road."
"Wait, already?" Uncle Zhong asked, wiping his hands on his apron as he hurried over. He looked like the classic worried parent, eyes scanning Huang Wen for any sign of trouble. "Where are you even going? How are you getting there? When are you coming back for dinner?"
Huang Wen laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "Uncle Zhong, look at who you're talking to. I'm not catching a Greyhound bus. If I want to be back for your spicy broth, I can be here in the blink of an eye. I just need some air, some distance. I want to see the parts of this country that aren't covered in soot and skyscrapers."
"He's right, Dad," Zhong Qiang chimed in, leaning against the doorframe. "Brother Wen is basically a teleporter now. He's not 'gone' gone. He's just... elsewhere." Zhong Qiang was practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes darting toward the watch on Huang Wen's wrist. He knew the 'good stuff' was coming.
"Xiao Wen, I'm serious," Uncle Zhong said, ignoring his son. "About what we talked about last time... that niece of the Chen family. She's a doctor, very smart, very polite. You can't just spend your whole life fighting and moving furniture with your mind. You need a—"
Huang Wen's expression shifted instantly from "patient student" to "tactical retreat." Before Uncle Zhong could finish the word matchmaker, Huang Wen grabbed Jack, Reese, and Zhong Qiang.
A flash of golden light filled the room, and the four of them vanished.
"Hah! I've seen him face down a monster that could level a city block, but one mention of a blind date and he bolts like a startled rabbit," Logan chuckled, settling into the sofa and pointing the remote at the TV.
"It's a shame," Uncle Zhong sighed, looking at the empty space. "He's a good boy. He just needs a push. Logan... you're a man of the world. Do you think you could—"
"Don't look at me, pops," Logan grunted, his eyes already glued to the cartoon yellow sponge on the screen. "I've lived a long time, and the one thing I've learned is never to get between a telekinetic master and his bachelorhood. Besides, 'Brother Logan' has a nice ring to it. Beats being called 'Grandpa' by a mile."
Meanwhile, in the depths of the underground base, the air was cool and smelled of ozone and fresh metal. The transformation since Zhong Qiang's last visit was staggering. What had once been a crumbling, dusty relic of the Cold War was now a sleek, high-tech sanctuary. Silly Girl had cleared out the debris, installed reinforced flooring, and set up expansive training bays that looked like something out of a sci-fi blockbuster.
"Whoa... Brother Wen, did you hire a crew of a thousand ghosts to do this overnight?" Zhong Qiang asked, his voice echoing in the vast chamber.
"I didn't need a thousand ghosts. I had a super-AI and a very long night," Huang Wen replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out three matte-black watches. "Put these on. Right now."
The three men didn't hesitate. As soon as the bands snapped shut around their wrists, a soft blue light swept over their skin.
"Identity confirmed. Binding to user: Jack Mercer," a smooth, melodic voice whispered from Jack's wrist.
"These are biometrically synced," Huang Wen explained, his voice echoing the seriousness of the upgrade. "They won't work for anyone else. If someone cuts your hand off to take it, the watch fries itself. It's not just a timepiece; it's your lifeline."
Before they could ask how a watch was supposed to save their lives, the sub-program Silly Girl had integrated began the 'Beginner's Tutorial.' This wasn't just a manual; it was an augmented reality experience.
"Following the prompt... now!" Jack muttered.
He pressed the primary activation stud. With a sound like a deck of cards being shuffled at lightning speed, thousands of micro-plates and liquid-fiber threads erupted from the watch. In less than a second, the casual clothes Jack was wearing were swallowed by a sleek, midnight-blue tailcoat that fit him like a second skin. Reese and Zhong Qiang followed suit, looking like three high-stakes gamblers ready for a gala.
"This is... light. I can barely feel it," Reese whispered, stretching his arms.
"Check the functions," Huang Wen commanded.
Reese walked over to a sheer vertical wall. Following the mental 'nudge' from the suit, he pressed his palms against the concrete. He felt a microscopic suction—van der Waals force manipulation—and began to walk straight up the wall. "I'm a spider... I'm literally a spider!"
Pop! A sharp crack echoed through the room. Jack had pulled his service pistol and fired a round directly into his own forearm.
"Jack! Are you crazy?" Zhong Qiang yelled.
But Jack was just staring at his sleeve. The bullet hadn't even left a scuff mark. The impact hadn't even bruised him. The suit had dispersed the kinetic energy across its entire surface area instantly. "It didn't even tickle," Jack whispered, his eyes wide with awe. "Teacher, this... this is better than any body armor the department has ever dreamed of."
Zhong Qiang, meanwhile, had found the 'Invisibility' toggle. He vanished from sight, a low, mischievous chuckle echoing from the empty air. He began to creep toward Huang Wen, his footsteps light, his mind clearly wandering toward the possibilities of an invisible man in a city like New York.
THWACK!
Huang Wen's fist moved like a blur, connecting perfectly with Zhong Qiang's stomach even though the boy was invisible. Zhong Qiang hit the floor with a groan, his stealth field flickering and dying.
"How did you... I was invisible!" Zhong Qiang wheezed.
"You were optically invisible," Huang Wen corrected, looking down at him with a stern gaze. "You still have a scent. You still displace air. You still make a sound like a dying buffalo when you walk. If you think this suit makes you a god, you'll be dead in a week."
He leaned down, his voice dropping an octave. "And just so we're clear, I've had Silly Girl install a 'Morality Protocol' on these units. If you even think about using that invisibility to peek into a ladies' locker room or a private residence, the suit will lock your joints and send me a GPS notification. You'll be frozen in place until I come to pick you up. Understood?"
Zhong Qiang's face went bright red. "I—I wasn't—I would never!"
"Right," Huang Wen said, not believing him for a second. He turned to Jack and Reese. "I'm giving you these to ensure that the next time a mutant or a supervillain decides to trash my neighborhood, I don't have to come home to a funeral. These are for defense. Use them for anything else, and I'll take them back—along with the martial arts I've taught you."
"We understand, Master," Jack and Reese said in unison, their expressions solemn. They looked down at their new gear with a mixture of reverence and responsibility.
"Good. Now, I'm sending you back to the restaurant. I'm going to start my trip," Huang Wen said. He didn't want to give Uncle Zhong another chance to trap him in a conversation about marriage.
With a final wave, he triggered the transport. The three disciples reappeared in the middle of the hotpot restaurant, still dressed in their magnificent tailcoats.
"Whoa! What happened to your clothes?" Uncle Zhong asked, nearly dropping a plate of thinly sliced beef.
"Dad, you have no idea," Zhong Qiang said, a manic grin returning to his face. He tapped the watch, and the suit retracted into the casing in a blur of motion. "Brother Wen just gave us the future."