Marvel: Monkey King

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The first thing Jack felt was warmth. Not the scorching, suffocating kind. The gentle kind. The kind that kisses your skin instead of burning it.

Jack opened his golden eyes. The morning sun hovered over New York, blanketing the city in gold. The wind whistled softly around him, rustling his hair.

For a brief moment—Jack didn't think. He just breathed. Then—his stomach growled. Loudly. Jack sighed. "Yep. Back to reality."

He stretched, rolling his shoulders, feeling the ache in his body from yesterday's fight with Logan. His clothes were still tattered, stiff with dried blood. And, judging by the way even the wind seemed to avoid him, he reeked.

Jack sniffed himself. "Oh damn." He winced. "I smell like a battlefield corpse left out to rot." He rubbed his chin, contemplating. "I could change clothes… but I like this hanfu." Another sniff. His own eyes watered. "…Okay. Maybe I should consider a bath first."

Then—he remembered something. Gao. Did she hold up her end of the deal? Jack's grin slowly widened. "Let's find out."

Jack leapt down from the Chrysler Building, landing effortlessly onto a rooftop. Then another. And another. 

The city was waking up beneath him. People hurried to work, taxis honked, street vendors set up their stalls.

Jack watched them, humming to himself. Despite all the chaos and filth, there was something… human about it all. Something real.

Jack scratched his head. "Still don't have all the answers… but that's fine."

He smirked. "I've got time." And with time? He'd figure it out. Even if it meant combing through hay to find the damn needle.

…

As Jack entered Chinatown, the first thing he noticed? It sucked.

This wasn't like his past life's Chinatown. That place had been alive. Colorful, bustling, a beautiful mess of tradition and crime intertwined.

This? This was… sad. The streets were cracked. The lanterns were faded. The people moved with caution, not energy. Jack clicked his tongue. "Damn. What a disappointment."

Then—he felt it. Eyes. Watching. Tracking. Gao's subordinates. Jack didn't stop walking. Instead, he waved dramatically. "HELLOOOO, UNDERPAID LACKEYS! I COME IN PEACE!"

A man in a dark suit stepped forward, clearly trying to maintain composure. "Mr. Hou."

"Captain Lackey." Jack nodded. "Nice to see you. Hope you had a fulfilling breakfast."

The man blinked, confused. "I—uh—please follow me."

Jack grinned. "Lead the way, Detective Side Character."

The man twitched but said nothing, turning on his heel. Jack happily skipped after him. They walked through the heart of Chinatown, stopping in front of a traditional Chinese moon gate. The gate was old but well-kept, a stark contrast to the rest of the neighborhood.

Jack tilted his head. "Ooooh. Fancy. Is this where I get initiated into a cult?"

A familiar voice spoke. "No, but I could arrange that if you'd like."

Jack grinned as Alessa Geomi—Bride of Nine Spiders—stepped out. She was as sharp and poised as ever, her expression unreadable. She bowed slightly, extending a hand. In it—a key.

"Your residence, as promised."

Jack took the key, spinning it between his fingers. "Nice. You even wrapped it in invisible gift paper."

Alessa's brows twitched. "You'll find the address engraved on the tag."

Jack glanced at it. A smirk crawled across his lips. "Ooooh. A house in Chinatown? Damn, Gao must really like me."

Alessa remained silent.

Jack stepped closer, staring at her intensely. "Or… was it you?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Did you fall for my overwhelming charm, Alessa? Are you secretly in love with me?"

Alessa's expression didn't change. Then—she spoke in a deadpan tone. "If I was in love with you, I would have already killed myself."

Jack burst into laughter. "Kekekekekeke—oh, I like you, spider girl."

Alessa crossed her arms. "You are the most unbearable person I have ever met."

Jack grinned. "Give it time. I grow on people. Like a really attractive fungus."

Alessa sighed, rubbing her temples. "Are we done here?"

Jack twirled the key again, then pocketed it. "Yep! I'll check out my new crib, MTV style… First—I need a bath."

Alessa nodded. "Good. You smell like a battlefield corpse left out to rot."

Jack blinked. Then pointed at her. "HEY! That's what I said earlier!"

Alessa turned and walked away, muttering. "I hate that I understand how your brain works."

Jack watched her go, smirking to himself. He looked at the key once more. Then, to the rising sun above him. "Alright then." He cracked his neck. "Let's see what home looks like this time around." And with that—he strolled off toward his new domain.

…

Jack stood at the entrance of his newly acquired home. His golden eyes gleamed as he took in the sight before him.

A large, traditional Chinese courtyard house, with sloping roofs, intricate wood carvings, and a peaceful aura that clashed horribly with the chaos of Hell's Kitchen. The front featured a beautiful koi pond, complete with a wooden bridge. Beside it—a goddamn gazebo.

Jack tilted his head, rubbing his chin. "A pond, huh? A body of water designed specifically to make fish feel important."

He stepped onto the bridge, peering down at the koi swimming in lazy circles. "Ah, yes. The majestic koi. The only creatures in the world whose entire life purpose is 'vibing.'"

He knelt beside the pond, staring intensely at the fish. "I respect it. But also, if I die in this house, one of you better reincarnate into a dragon. Otherwise, this pond is useless."

The fish stared back. Unbothered. Jack shrugged and stood. "I'll take that as a maybe."

Next—the gazebo. Jack stepped inside, running a hand across the wooden beams. "Ah, a gazebo. Nature's VIP section."

He sat down on the stone bench, looking out at the courtyard. Then—he sighed dramatically.

"Imagine this. I'm sitting here, sipping tea, watching the sun rise as I contemplate the meaning of life. But in reality? I'd probably be watching pigeons fight over breadcrumbs like it's a goddamn gladiator match."

A single pigeon flew by. Jack pointed at it. "I'll bet five bucks on you, little guy."

The pigeon ignored him. Jack stood, stretching. "Alright, next stop on the 'I Own This Place Now' tour."

The main house was massive. Sliding doors. Ornate wooden furniture. Red and gold decor that screamed, 'A rich old man probably died here.'

Jack walked through the halls, his bare feet making no sound. He ran his fingers along the intricate carvings on the wooden pillars.

"Ah, yes. Traditional craftsmanship. Carved by the hands of forgotten artisans. A reminder that no matter how skilled you are, someone richer than you will always claim your work."

He opened a random door, peeking inside. A study. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with dusty old tomes and calligraphy scrolls.

Jack nodded. "Ah, a room dedicated to knowledge. Also known as 'the place I will never willingly enter.'"

He shut the door. Next room—a bedroom. A massive bed sat in the center, draped in silk sheets. Jack flopped onto it immediately. The mattress was soft. Too soft.

"Hmm… It feels like sleeping on a cloud. Which sounds great, until you realize clouds are made of water vapor and you'd fall right through."

He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "What is a home, truly? Is it a house, or is it the feeling of belonging?"

Silence.

Then—Jack nodded to himself. "Nah, it's definitely just a house. But a house with a koi pond and a gazebo, so we're already winning."

He sat up, stretching. "Alright, let's get down to business."

Jack walked over to the central room, placing the map Madam Gao had given him on a table. The parchment unfolded, revealing a detailed layout of Kingpin's territory, complete with markings on each commander's area.

Jack squinted at it. "Hmm. Six commanders, each with their own little kingdom. That means six heads to chop off before I reach the final boss."

He tapped his chin. "Or… I could just blow up the whole tower. But that seems a little excessive. Even for me. It needs to be more theatrical."

He leaned back, lost in thought. Then—his eyes drifted to his own reflection in a polished bronze mirror. 

His clothes were a mess. The black and pink hanfu was tattered, barely holding together, covered in dried blood and dust.

Jack sighed. "Man… I really liked this outfit."

He ran a hand over the torn fabric. "If only there was a material strong enough to survive my kind of fighting…"

Then—he froze. His eyes lit up. "Wait a minute."

He snapped his fingers. "I'm in Marvel!"

Jack grinned, his mind racing. There had to be a material strong enough. Vibranium. Adamantium. Uru. Pym-enhanced nanofiber. Hell, even some of Tony Stark's bullshit fabric tech.

All he had to do was find it. Or steal it. Preferably steal it. Jack grinned wider. "Alright then. If SHIELD or the gods themselves have the fabric I need… I'll just take it."

But first—Jack needed to stop smelling like a war crime. He grabbed his clothes, tossing them aside.

Then, he walked toward the massive bathroom. It had a deep stone tub, opening the faucet to let the heated water run.

Jack smirked. "A bath fit for a king. Or, in my case, a homeless kung fu lunatic."

He stepped inside, sighing as the warmth seeped into his muscles. For the first time in days, his body fully relaxed. Jack leaned back, closing his eyes.

Tomorrow? He'd start his hunt for the perfect fabric or head hunting, and he is not looking for jobs.

But for now—he was going to enjoy this moment. Because even a self-proclaimed Monkey Sage deserved a little luxury.

**A/N**

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