AutumnXd
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CHAPTER 21
🕑 Added 2025-04-12 10:55:06 +0000 UTCHowever…
Just as the atmosphere between them reached its crescendo—the laughter, the shared glances, the casual brushing of shoulders creating an invisible thread of connection—Gwen suddenly straightened, her expression shifting from carefree joy to something more guarded in the span of a heartbeat.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her fingers briefly touching Su Xiu's forearm in apology. "Bathroom break. Won't be long!"
Before he could respond, she had slipped away, weaving through the tables with practiced ease, her golden hair catching the afternoon light before disappearing around a corner.
And then—
One minute stretched into five, five into fifteen, and finally into half an hour with no sign of her return. The coffee in her cup had long since gone cold, tiny milk bubbles congealing on its surface like abandoned dreams.
The sudden interruption—
Made Su Xiu feel like he could hear an invisible director yelling "Cut!" off-camera, the scene's momentum abruptly halted. The café continued its bustling routine around him, but the energy that had animated their corner had vanished with Gwen's departure.
"Something happened?" Su Xiu murmured, drumming his fingers thoughtfully against the marble tabletop, a frown creasing his forehead.
Of course, he didn't entertain the notion that Gwen had ditched him and fled without paying. Their connection, though newly formed, felt genuine. Besides, this was her neighborhood—hardly the place for someone to burn bridges so carelessly.
Instead, as he analyzed the timing and circumstances, a realization crystallized in his mind—
Given the timing of her departure and what he knew of Gwen's background and family connections—
She…
Could she have gone off to handle some impromptu superhero business?
Su Xiu pulled at the corner of his mouth, feeling the pieces click into place. The Parker family had a certain reputation in this universe, after all. From what he'd gathered about this world's history, heroism ran in their blood like a genetic predisposition. The sudden exit, the apologetic but determined expression—it all pointed to someone answering an urgent call to duty.
"Red Queen, track Gwen's location," he commanded softly, his voice barely audible above the café's ambient noise.
"Yes, Master!" The response in his ear was immediate, the AI's voice a crisp, feminine tone with just a hint of British accent—a quirk she'd developed after assimilating data from various intelligence agencies worldwide.
"Skynet network deployment in New York City zone complete! Accessing surveillance networks and beginning search protocols. Facial recognition algorithms deployed," Red Queen reported with clinical efficiency. In the digital realm, Su Xiu imagined her as a scarlet chess piece moving across a vast board of interconnected data points.
[Information cross-referencing in progress...] [Analyzing movement patterns and last known trajectories...] [Searching for target's biosignature and digital footprint...]
Su Xiu casually adjusted the sleek Bluetooth device in his ear—a necessary façade. The voice he heard came from his AI assistant—Red Queen! Her true form existed as a digital entity weaving through the global internet; the Bluetooth merely served as a conventional explanation for their conversations.
Otherwise, him seemingly talking to thin air would raise eyebrows, even in a city accustomed to eccentric behaviors and superhuman phenomena.
"Target located!" Red Queen announced triumphantly after 47 seconds of searching.
"Locking on coordinates—transferring visual feed now."
Su Xiu's phone discreetly lit up with a notification, the screen switching to display footage from a nearby surveillance camera—one of thousands Red Queen had seamlessly infiltrated throughout the city.
The scene was dimly lit, contrast poor and details grainy.
It appeared to be an old street corner in what looked like a less reputable part of town—the kind of place tourist guides politely suggested avoiding after dark.
Next to a wall emblazoned with layers of urban graffiti—artistic expressions competing with gang tags for visual dominance—stood a slender figure in a distinctive outfit that made Su Xiu raise an eyebrow.
A Spider-Man suit—or rather, a Spider-Woman suit, tailored to accentuate an unmistakably feminine physique. A grey hoodie partially covered the costume's upper portion, pulled low to obscure the wearer's identity. Even through the grainy feed, Su Xiu immediately recognized Gwen's distinctive silhouette and movement patterns.
Several motionless forms lay sprawled on the ground around her—unconscious or restrained, he couldn't tell from the footage quality.
But what drew his immediate attention was the semicircle of figures closing in on her position. In front of her stood a hulking brute with shoulders like granite boulders, and from the shadows of nearby alleyways, more figures emerged, methodically surrounding her from all angles—a tactical encirclement executed with concerning precision for street criminals.
Because of the sudden appearance of what were clearly organized gang members—
Gwen's posture shifted subtly, her back tensing as she assessed her deteriorating situation. Though her face was hidden behind the mask, her body language betrayed nervousness—the slight shifting of weight from foot to foot, the hands that clenched and unclenched at her sides.
Because…
The metallic glint in their hands told the story clearly: they had guns!! Not just simple handguns either—several carried what appeared to be military-grade automatic weapons, their dark barrels catching what little light penetrated this urban canyon.
The sight of those weapons pointed in her direction was visibly intimidating—even to a superhero in the making. Powers or not, few could face firearms with complete equanimity, especially someone clearly new to the hero business.
"So something did happen, huh," Su Xiu remarked, the tip of his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he processed the situation.
It didn't take a tactical genius to understand what he was witnessing—a rookie superhero attempting to halt a criminal operation, only to find herself outmatched and surrounded because she lacked the experience to properly assess the threat level before engaging.
Normal street thugs wouldn't be armed to this degree—these were clearly organized criminals with resources and connections. The weapons alone suggested cartel involvement or perhaps one of the city's more ambitious crime syndicates testing their boundaries.
Gwen had stumbled into something far more dangerous than a simple mugging.
"There are risks to being a superhero~" Su Xiu observed with philosophical detachment, even as a familiar heat began building in his muscles—the primal anticipation of coming violence that no amount of civilization could fully suppress.
But his body was already moving, rising from the café chair with fluid grace, leaving exact change plus a generous tip on the table.
Don't misunderstand his intentions.
He wasn't rushing off to heroically rescue a damsel in distress—that tired narrative didn't apply here. Gwen had her own powers, her own agency. She wasn't helpless.
He just... felt that familiar itch beneath his skin. A hunger for action that had been building during these weeks of forced inactivity! His enhanced body craved challenge like a fine-tuned engine needed to be driven at speed occasionally.
Letting such perfect punching bags—living practice dummies—walk away? That would be practically wasteful. And waste was inefficient.
"Red Queen, lock onto Gwen's position and provide optimal route calculations," he commanded as he pushed through the café's doors into the afternoon sunlight.
"Yes, Master!" The AI responded with something almost like eagerness. "Tactical interface activated."
The lenses of his unassuming glasses illuminated with a subtle heads-up display, glowing markers indicating distance and direction, accompanied by a mini-map of nearby streets overlaid with real-time traffic patterns and surveillance blind spots.
In his ear, Red Queen's voice provided turn-by-turn directions, calculating the fastest route while accounting for variables ranging from pedestrian density to traffic light patterns.
"Estimated arrival time: three minutes seven seconds using conventional transportation. Alternative suggestion: rooftop traversal would reduce time to fifty-four seconds, Master."
——
"Tsk~" The sound escaped between Su Xiu's teeth as he surveyed the scene from above.
"So this is the place?"
A shadow detached from the rooftop and descended silently—it was Su Xiu, moving with predatory grace as he dropped three stories without making a sound, his enhanced physiology absorbing the impact that would have shattered normal human legs.
He'd exited the restaurant through the back door to avoid witnesses, then activated "Rokushiki: Soru"—a high-speed movement technique that accelerated his body to speeds beyond human perception.
To the naked eye, he became nothing more than a momentary distortion in the air—a heat haze on a cool day. Only a gentle breeze marked his passing, leaving pedestrians blinking in confusion as their hair was ruffled by an inexplicable gust. Another urban legend was quietly born in New York's ever-growing mythology of the unexplained.
In mere moments, he'd arrived within striking distance of Gwen's location. En route, he'd even had time to acquire a nondescript black jacket from a street vendor's display, leaving generous payment in his wake—the perfect addition to help conceal his identity and obscure his silhouette.
"Hm?" He paused in the shadows of an alley, assessing the situation with military precision.
"Still missing something…"
Su Xiu recalled an essential precaution just before stepping into view. With practiced concentration, he activated the latent energy sleeping within his cells.
Rokushiki Secret Art: Life Return!!
This wasn't merely a technique—it was the pinnacle of martial mastery, an extreme art of ultimate bodily control. By channeling his willpower directly into his physical form, he could manipulate every aspect of his biology—from musculature and skeletal structure to skin texture and facial features.
His muscles expanded with controlled precision, fibers multiplying and reconfiguring. His bones stretched and thickened with a series of imperceptible micro-cracks and instant healing. Within seconds, Su Xiu had metamorphosed into a towering two-meter figure with an entirely different physical appearance—unrecognizable to anyone who'd seen him earlier.
Thanks to his system's hundredfold enhancement effect, he hadn't merely received the Rokushiki techniques; he'd absorbed their essence completely, mastering even the hidden arts that most practitioners never discovered, including the legendary ability known as Life Return!
This wasn't simply accelerated healing—it was biological sculptural art, turning disguise into a transcendent skill that required no external props or cosmetics.
Step!
Step!
Su Xiu emerged from the shadows and strode purposefully toward the standoff, each footfall deliberate and measured. The gang members who had been tightening their encirclement around Gwen suddenly froze as an imposing silhouette blocked their path.
"W-Who the hell are you?!" demanded the apparent leader, his voice betraying uncertainty despite the aggressive tone.
Gulp…
Several thugs visibly swallowed, Adam's apples bobbing nervously as they took in Su Xiu's towering physique. Even armed, there was something primal about facing a physical specimen of such obvious superiority—an evolutionary memory of predator and prey relationships that transcended rational thought.
"Me?" Su Xiu replied with casual indifference, as though he'd wandered into nothing more consequential than a minor traffic dispute.
"Just a hero for fun."
His answer came with a half-smile, perhaps channeling the mindset of a certain bald hero from another universe's fiction. There was truth in the statement, though—he genuinely did find enjoyment in these moments of controlled violence, these opportunities to test the limits of his abilities in real-world applications.
His calm, almost bored demeanor made Gwen—still surrounded but momentarily forgotten as attention shifted to the newcomer—glance over with visible surprise. Her eyes, visible through the mask's openings, widened with a mixture of confusion, worry, and something that might have been hope.
"A h-hero? Bullshit!" sputtered one of the gangsters, his hand tightening around his weapon.
"This has nothing to do with you! Get lost!! Or we'll kill you too!" another shouted, trying to project authority with volume what he clearly lacked in genuine confidence.
The gangsters hurled threats, but their tones rang hollow, forced bravado transparent to anyone with experience reading human behavior.
But then—
Their expressions shifted as they remembered the weapons in their hands. The cold metal against their palms seemed to inject fresh courage into their faltering resolve.
They had guns, damn it! Military-grade hardware that could tear through flesh and bone with industrial efficiency.
With such firepower at their disposal, who were they to fear? Even a known superhero like Spider-Woman was effectively neutralized by the threat of superior ballistics. That's why she hadn't made a move yet—even enhanced reflexes had their limits against multiple firearms.
No matter how physically impressive this newcomer might be, human flesh remained vulnerable to high-velocity rounds. Muscles, no matter how sculpted, wouldn't stop bullets. That was just physics.
The momentary doubt passed, replaced by renewed arrogance. The wind seemed to calm, the world narrowing to this confrontation, and the thugs found their swagger once more.
They puffed up visibly, exchanging glances that communicated their returning confidence:
"Hmph, trying to play the hero? You think you're that special?"
"Times have changed, muscle man! Fists don't beat bullets! Your gym membership won't save you here!!"
"He's clearly got a death wish? Let's grant it for him!"
"Ugh, I don't like his face—let's disfigure him before finishing him off…"
"A man and a woman dying here tonight, and one's a wannabe superhero? Tomorrow's headlines gonna make us famous!"
"And if she's as hot under that mask as her figure suggests, maybe we can still have some f—"
"…"
The words crescendoed into increasingly vile territory, their expressions morphing into something less than human—twisted masks of cruelty that revealed the darkness festering beneath their ordinary façades.
"Disgusting—" Gwen's voice cut through their vulgarity, low and dangerous. Even through the mask's filter, the cold fury was unmistakable.
As for…
Su Xiu?
His expression remained as undisturbed as the surface of a mountain lake on a windless day. Not a single muscle twitched on his face, his breathing neither quickened nor slowed.
Because to him, these men had ceased being people the moment they'd trained weapons on an outnumbered opponent. They were moving obstacles, nothing more—temporary inconveniences to be cleared from his path. Why waste emotional energy on what amounts to target practice?
"Rokushiki: Soru!"
The declaration was quiet but resolute—like a judge pronouncing sentence.
Su Xiu's form vanished in an instant, becoming nothing more than a disembodied blur that the human eye could barely register. Even enhanced surveillance equipment would struggle to track his movements at this velocity.
"Rokushiki: Shigan!"
A single extended finger—focused to a hardness beyond steel by concentration and technique—jabbed casually at his first target. The condensed bioenergy behind the strike shot forward like a physical bullet, the air itself becoming a weapon as it punched through the shoulder of a gunman, disarming him instantly as nerves and tendons were severed with surgical precision.
The man hadn't even registered pain before Su Xiu had moved to his next target.
"Watch out! That guy's not normal!" someone screamed, realization dawning too late.
"Shoot him! Aim and fire!! Don't hold back!!"
"Hurry, take him out first—he's the priority target!!"
"Suppressive fire! Don't let him get close!!"
"…"
Panicked shouts erupted as the group finally comprehended the nature of the threat they faced. This wasn't some random vigilante or street-level hero—this was something else entirely.
A cacophony of gunfire erupted as every weapon turned toward Su Xiu's last known position. Bullets tore through the air in deadly arcs, ricocheting off brick walls and concrete, sending sparks and fragments flying.
Even a Gatling gun—modified and illegal—spat blue flames in the darkness as its barrel rotated with mechanical hunger. Someone in the rear ranks desperately fumbled with what appeared to be a compact rocket launcher—overkill that betrayed their escalating fear.
However…
Against Su Xiu's abilities, their arsenal might as well have been children's toys.
"Rankyaku: White Lightning!"
While Black Widow, in her brief exposure to Rokushiki training, had only mastered the foundational techniques, Su Xiu possessed the complete array of advanced applications—the difference between knowing the alphabet and writing poetry.
With his hundredfold system enhancement amplifying every aspect of his capabilities, he wasn't merely skilled—he had transcended conventional human limitations entirely.
In a single fluid motion, his leg swept through the air faster than sound itself, generating compressed air blades that sliced through gunmetal as easily as paper. Weapons fell to pieces in their wielders' hands, leaving them staring in disbelief at suddenly useless hunks of severed metal.
Time seemed to slow for Su Xiu as his enhanced perception processed everything in crystal clarity—the trajectory of each bullet, the micro-expressions of fear blossoming on his opponents' faces, the subtle shift in Gwen's posture as she prepared to join the fight now that the firearms had been neutralized.
This wasn't just combat. This was art.
And he was just getting started.
