Max_Striker
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Chapter 76: Aftermath
🕑 Added 2025-09-07 11:45:34 +0000 UTCThe secure facility looked exactly like what Jay expected from Korean intelligence—all concrete and fluorescent lights, built for function over comfort. The interrogation room had that particular smell of industrial disinfectant and stale coffee that seemed universal to government buildings worldwide. He'd been sitting in the metal chair for nearly an hour now, his blood-stained sweater making him look like exactly what he was—someone who'd just committed murder.
The door finally burst open with enough force to rattle the frame. White Fox strode in, her supernatural grace barely containing controlled fury. Her fox-like features were sharp with anger, and when she spoke, her English carried the crisp authority of someone used to getting answers.
"What the hell is the goddamn Power Broker doing in Korea?" she demanded, slamming a thick file onto the metal table. "And why were you in the same store as an M-Gang operation? That's one hell of a coincidence."
Jay remained silent, studying her with the same clinical detachment he'd use on a particularly difficult patient. White Fox's NIS training was evident in how she positioned herself—close enough to intimidate, far enough to react if he made any sudden moves.
"I'm talking to you!" Her voice carried that supernatural allure, the fox spirit's influence trying to compel him to respond. "Twelve people are mutilated like animals, and you were standing in the middle of it covered in blood!"
Still nothing from Jay.
White Fox began pacing, her frustration mounting as her power failed to crack his silence. "Do you have any idea what kind of diplomatic incident this creates? An American super-criminal operating on Korean soil without authorization? The Blue House is going insane right now!"
She pulled out photos from the convenience store—crime scene images that would give most people nightmares. "Look at this! Look what you did to them! This isn't justice, it's butchery!"
Jay finally spoke, his voice quiet and steady. "No."
"No?" White Fox stopped pacing, her fox-like eyes narrowing. "No what?"
"Just no." Jay leaned back in the chair, his expression unchanged. "That's your answer to everything you're going to ask."
The interrogation continued for another two hours. White Fox tried every technique in the NIS playbook—psychological pressure, showing him pictures of the rescued children, even bringing in a Korean-American agent who tried to appeal to shared cultural background. Jay responded to everything with the same single word.
Finally, White Fox threw her hands up in frustration. "Fine. Sit there and play mute." She headed for the door, then turned back. "But this isn't over. I'm calling in some favors, getting more information about you. We'll see how long that stubborn act lasts."
Jay gave her another "no" before she could leave, telling her to call it.
The door slammed behind her, leaving Jay alone with his thoughts.
And that's when it hit him—the replay of his first kill.
The memory came back in vivid detail. The M-Gang member with the blood-stained claws, the casual cruelty in his eyes as he advanced on Jay in that basement full of tortured children. The way Muramasa had cut through him like paper, the spray of blood painting the concrete walls, the two halves of a human being hitting the ground with wet, meaty sounds.
Jay had always known he'd eventually have to kill in this universe. Marvel was a place where death was handed out like candy and resurrection was practically a customer loyalty program. He'd mentally prepared himself for the necessity of violence, the cold calculations that would let him survive in a world of gods and monsters.
But the efficiency of it had caught him completely off guard. No hesitation, no moral conflict in the moment—just pure, instinctual lethality. His training had taken over, and he'd become death incarnate without even thinking about it.
What haunted him most wasn't the killing itself. It was the children's reaction afterward. They were already scarred, physically and mentally, from weeks or months of torture. And then they'd watched him butcher their captor right in front of them, adding another layer of trauma to minds that had already been pushed beyond breaking.
Those hollow, terrified eyes looking at him not with gratitude, but with the same fear they'd shown their captors. He'd saved them, yes, but in doing so, he'd become another monster in their nightmares.
Jay couldn't keep his mind calm. The clinical detachment that had served him so well as a nurse was cracking under the weight of what he'd done and how he'd done it.
To distract himself, he retreated into his mental plane.
The space had changed dramatically. What had once been a serene starry sky now roiled with clouds representing his inner turmoil—dark gray masses that shifted and churned with barely contained emotion.
His powers stood in their familiar positions, each one a distinct presence in his consciousness:
His original ability—power theft—appeared as a gray silhouette that looked like Jay himself, but with ocean-blue eyes. It looked noticeably stronger now, bolstered by absorbing Chance's power the night before.
The green, child-like healing aura pulsed with gentle warmth, a counterpoint to the violence he'd just committed.
His danger sense manifested as a golden knight with navy blue stripes running through it, hyperalert and scanning for threats even in this mental space.
A black cloud represented Blackout's darkforce manipulation, roiling with shadow energy.
Carl Creel's absorption powers took the form of a blank humanoid shape, waiting to shift between different materials and textures.
The Silver Samurai's abilities appeared as a katana made of pure silver, surrounded by the white field of tachyon energy that made it so devastatingly effective.
Tomoe's technoforming ability manifested as a female humanoid black shadow with blue circuitry running all over its form, constantly interfacing with invisible networks of data.
And finally, Kim Il Sung's newly stolen power appeared as a red portrait that kept changing size and properties, representing his ability to scramble and manipulate other people's powers and systems through touch.
Jay focused on that red portrait, feeling its potential. Kim's power was wasted on him, considering what it evolved into in the comics—the ability to disrupt the function of any system, whether biological, mechanical, or energy-based. But like all stolen powers, it required physical contact with bare flesh to work effectively.
Using his original power theft ability, Jay began the fusion process. Kim's power struggled against the integration, fighting like a wild animal being caged, but Jay's primary ability was stronger and had complete control. Influenced by his lingering anger from the incident, the fusion was more violent than usual.
The red portrait seemed to shred apart like torn canvas, its essence flowing into his power theft ability. As the integration completed, Jay felt a physical change—a red, tattered cape materialized on his original power's back, flowing like liquid shadow.
The transformation was immediate and profound. His null field expanded from forty feet to fifty feet, and the nature of the ability itself evolved. Where before he could only nullify superpowers, now he could disrupt machines and energy fields as well. The entire concept was shifting from simple nullification toward something more comprehensive—the ability to steal, to take, to disrupt any system he encountered.
Jay surveyed his expanded arsenal and felt a familiar frustration. Even with his Adaptive Power perk helping him understand the basics of each ability and grow them in his desired direction, he knew he wasn't using them to their fullest potential. Raw power was one thing, but technique, finesse, true mastery—that required training, experience, and preferably instruction from someone who already understood these abilities.
He needed teachers. Mentors. People who could help him unlock the full potential of what he'd stolen.
Coming out of his mental plane, Jay noticed that hours had passed since anyone had come to interrogate him. The facility was quieter now, the sounds of normal operations muffled by the thick walls. He was starting to wonder if he should simply break out when the door opened again.
But it wasn't White Fox who entered. It was Agent Phil Coulson, looking as polite and diplomatic as ever in his perfectly pressed suit.
Coulson looked at Jay with that expression of mild disappointment that seemed to be his default when dealing with enhanced individuals who'd caused international incidents. "You really are a troublesome individual, Jay."
"Hey," Jay said with a shrug, finally breaking his hours of silence. "I was on vacation. It's not my fault the convenience store I went to turned out to be a front for kidnapping and trafficking."
Coulson held up a hand before Jay could continue. "We're still being observed," he said quietly, nodding toward what were probably hidden cameras and microphones. "It would be best if we continue this conversation outside."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "They're actually letting me leave?"
"There's nothing they can do legally," Coulson explained as he gestured for Jay to follow him. "You did their job for them, rescued thirteen children, and eliminated a criminal organization. The only issue is that you used your powers without proper authorization, which isn't allowed in Korea under their Enhanced Persons Regulatory Act."
They walked through corridors filled with the efficient bustle of intelligence work. "To settle this diplomatically," Coulson continued, "it was officially the Tiger Division who took down the M-Gang operation. You were never there. Clean and simple."
Jay just nodded. It was the kind of face-saving political theater that kept international relations smooth. He didn't particularly care who got credit as long as those kids were safe.
When they emerged from the building into Seoul's night, Jay was still wearing his blood-covered sweater. He checked his pockets and found all his belongings intact—phone, wallet, gifts from everyone, Domino's quarter*,* and finally the adamantium bullet*,* even the guitar case with Muramasa inside.
"Jay-ssi?"
He turned to see Luna Snow and Dan Bi approaching from across the street. Both looked tired from the morning's events, but they'd clearly been waiting for him.
Luna spoke first, her English carrying that precise pronunciation of someone who'd trained extensively to perform internationally. "We wanted to thank you. Although you went too violent, you did save them." Her idol persona was completely gone, replaced by genuine concern. "The children are getting proper medical care now."
Dan Bi stepped forward, bowing slightly in the traditional Korean manner. "Thank you for healing my friend," she said in Korean-accented English that was what you could expect from a ten-year-old.
It turned out one of the rescued children was her classmate.
Jay looked at Dan Bi. Too young to have classmates in regular school, but old enough that this should have been about studying for exams and worrying about which cartoon to watch and which toys to beg her parents for.
Seeing a ten-year-old being used as a hero, even officially, was revolting to Jay.
"Stop playing hero," he told her bluntly. "Enjoy your childhood while you still have one."
Then he turned to Luna Snow, his expression hardening. "And you need to convince her to quit. Keep dragging kids into this life, and any harm or casualties will be on you and your teammates' consciences."
Both young women looked stricken by his words, but Jay was already walking toward Coulson's black sedan. He'd said what needed to be said. Maybe they'd listen, maybe they wouldn't, but at least he had gotten it off his chest.
Back at the American consulate, Jay showered and changed into clean clothes, grateful to wash the smell of blood and violence from his skin. When Coulson asked if he needed anything, Jay gave him an answer that clearly caught the agent off guard.
"Can you drop me off at Kathmandu?"
Coulson raised an eyebrow, his professional composure slipping slightly. "Nepal? That's... unexpected. Any particular reason?"
Jay thought about his mental plane, about the powers he needed to master, about the teachers he needed to find. "I need to meet someone."
Coulson studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "I can arrange transportation. When do you want to leave?"
"As soon as possible." Jay looked out the window at Seoul's sprawling cityscape. "I think I've caused enough diplomatic incidents in Korea for one trip."
"Probably wise," Coulson agreed with that slight smile that never quite reached his eyes. "I'll make the arrangements."
As Jay waited for his departure, he couldn't shake the image of those children's terrified faces.
Comments
Gemaxter
Nice to see he still has his heart and SeOUL
