Marvel - The Blood God

Jessica didn't care about Peter's departure either. She wasn't planning on being a good employee anyway. She walked back to the door and said to Trish, "Trish, are you really going to keep kneeling here?"

Trish replied firmly, "I have to learn kung fu."

Jessica said unhappily, "Why? What's so important about learning kung fu?"

Trish looked at Jessica with resentment. If Jessica weren't her sister, she might have punched her.

The world is so unfair. Some people struggle to achieve what others take for granted, even showing disdain for it.

Like Jessica Jones, that ungrateful girl.

Just as Trish was about to retort, Madame Gao emerged and said, "The boss wants to see you. Come in."

Trish stood up in surprise and asked, "Are you willing to accept me as a student?"

Madame Gao smiled and said, "You're in luck. The boss intends to take you both as his apprentices personally."

Trish was stunned. "That young man? Is he qualified? Isn't kung fu supposed to improve with age?"

"He's far superior to me," Madame Gao replied without elaborating, leading the way with her cane. Trish hurried after her, and Jessica followed reluctantly, grumbling, "That guy is impressive, but why should I become his student? I don't want to learn kung fu."

"If she doesn't want to acknowledge him as her master, she can leave," Madame Gao said, turning to Trish, who was momentarily taken aback. Was she just an afterthought?

"That guy is really not a good person," Jessica muttered. She couldn't bear to see Trish disappointed. Gritting her teeth, she said, "Fine, I'll acknowledge him as my master, but I don't have money to pay for kung fu lessons."

"A true master-student relationship isn't about money. In fact, the master often supports the student. But you probably don't understand that concept, so I won't say more," Madame Gao shook her head, leading them into the tea room in the backyard, where Maverick was waiting.

As the two women approached, Maverick, seated calmly, waved his hand gently. Two cups of tea floated steadily toward them, surrounded by a faint red glow—the power of his dragon spirit, now capable of being projected outward.

The two women were momentarily astonished but quickly caught the teacups. Madame Gao exclaimed, "Kneel and offer tea to your master."

Jessica was reluctant, but when Trish saw Maverick's display, her eyes lit up. She knelt immediately, holding the teacup with both hands as she'd seen in kung fu movies, and said, "Master, please have some tea."

"Good," Maverick nodded in satisfaction, taking the teacup and sipping it before setting it aside. He then looked at Jessica.

Jessica rolled her eyes, knelt down half-heartedly, and offered her cup. "Master, have some tea."

"Not very sincere," Maverick commented, taking a sip. Then he said, "Alright, Trish Walker, Jessica Jones, from now on, you're my disciples. You must abide by the rules... um, the rules?"

"You don't even know your own sect's rules, do you?" Jessica scoffed. Madame Gao was speechless; it was clear Maverick had decided to take on students on a whim.

"Of course I know," Maverick said. "The rules are simple: support each other and protect the world."

"That's really basic. I guess we won't have to worry about copying the rules as punishment—there are only a dozen words." Jessica sneered. Trish felt a bit awkward; had they joined the wrong school? It seemed so unprofessional.

"Since you feel that way, I'll oblige you. You can copy the rules a thousand times," Maverick said.

Jessica fumed, "Why?"

"You brought it on yourself. Who else is to blame?" Maverick waved his hand dismissively. "Alright, that's all for now. From tonight onward, come to the teahouse at eight o'clock to train. If you can't make it, call ahead. Understood?"

"Understood." Trish nodded eagerly, excited to finally learn kung fu.

Seeing Trish so happy, Jessica held her tongue. After all, she needed to work here to pay off her debts. Though, what kind of master extorts his own student?

Trish and Jessica stood up. Maverick smiled at Trish and said, "Trish, you've done well. I've prepared a gift for you to mark your apprenticeship. You'll receive it when you go to work tomorrow."

"Thank you, Master." Trish said, though she didn't think much of it. Maverick didn't explain further. He turned to Jessica and said, "As for you, you haven't been impressive at all. Besides your punishment, you'll need to clean the teahouse."

"Why?" Jessica protested. Trish quickly intervened, saying to Maverick, "Master, I'd like to take Jessica home to celebrate. Can she start work tomorrow?"

"Since you're asking, I'll allow it," Maverick nodded. Jessica huffed; this guy clearly favored her sister over her.

Trish was thrilled. After thanking him, she excitedly took Jessica and left. After they departed, Madame Gao asked curiously, "Maverick, there are many skilled individuals among the Council of Blood. Why take them as apprentices?"

"Vampires are natural-born villains. We need humans to speak on our behalf," Maverick replied without much explanation. "Madame Gao, I'll leave their training to you."

"You're not going to teach them yourself?" Madame Gao was surprised. How could he just hand off his apprentices to someone else?

"Come on, I have plans tonight." Maverick shrugged. "With so many attractions in the city, why would I spend two hours every evening teaching students? That's not the lifestyle of the wealthy."

That night, Trish slept soundly, dreaming that she had become the most popular superhero. Reporters flocked to interview her, fans cheered her name, and TV stations clamored for her appearances.

But when Trish woke up, she found reality to be brutally different—she was indeed famous, but not in the way she'd hoped.

"A washed-up star, losing her mind, kneeling in front of a teahouse and begging? The Daily Bugle, I'm going to sue you." Trish fumed as she tore up the newspaper. Having been a child actress, she knew all too well the consequences of such negative press.

People would ridicule her, her radio station might suspend her show indefinitely, and when—or if—she could return would be uncertain.

Trish's career was facing a major crisis.

"Stay calm, stay calm. If I can come up with a good explanation, maybe I can turn this around. Environmental protest? Performance art?" Trish paced anxiously in her living room. She wanted to discuss it with Jessica, but her calls went unanswered. She knew that Jessica was probably drunk again.

"Damn it." Trish threw her phone down in frustration. She was contemplating whether to take a leave of absence to let things blow over when the station manager suddenly called. "Trish, why aren't you at work yet? Get to the station immediately."

Trish wanted to explain, but the manager hung up before she could.

When she arrived at the radio station, she found a swarm of reporters waiting. She quickly had her driver take her to the back entrance and slipped into the building.

Inside, a rival female host approached with feigned concern. "Trish, what are you doing here? You should be resting at home if you're unwell."

Trish snapped, "You're the one who's unwell. That article is nonsense."

"Trish, if you're sick, you should get help. You can't just run from it," the host said sarcastically. "Who knows what embarrassing things you'll do next."

"When have I ever embarrassed myself?" Trish gritted her teeth. She was about to confront the woman when the manager's secretary called out, "Trish, the manager wants to see you right away."

"Fine." Trish replied hurriedly, shooting a glare at the host before striding toward the manager's office. Colleagues watched her with pity or schadenfreude; they all thought she was about to be sidelined.

"Trish, I'll be taking over your show from now on. No need to thank me; it's the least I can do," the host called after her, laughing. Trish resisted the urge to turn around and smack her with her high heels. That woman was infuriating.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Trish knocked on the manager's door and entered.

"Manager..." Trish began, hoping to explain, but before she could, the manager said, "Trish, your show is being upgraded to a current affairs program. There's a big interview at noon. Read over the materials immediately."

"Manager, about my show... Wait, what?" Trish blinked in astonishment. "You're upgrading my show?"

Trish's "Trish Talk" was an entertainment talk show, covering topics like family misunderstandings and romantic entanglements. She had always wanted to tackle current affairs and social issues, but the manager never agreed, reserving those slots for top hosts.

She never imagined that amidst a scandal, not only would the manager not pull her off the air, but he would also upgrade her program. Was this a dream?

If so, she didn't want to wake up.

The manager gave her a knowing look. "Trish, this comes from higher up. Didn't you know?"

"Higher up?" Trish was puzzled. She knew some influential people in the past, but since her rise to fame, who would intervene on her behalf?

"Go prepare," the manager said curtly. He thought Trish was playing dumb but never expected that someone as upright as her would go down this path. Perhaps it was inevitable in the entertainment industry.

Trish took the documents and returned to her office, bewildered. Colleagues saw her dazed expression and assumed she was being sidelined—some felt sorry, others mocked.

Back in her office, Trish found a woman of striking beauty waiting for her. Jealousy flickered within her as she asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm your master's assistant," the woman replied. "He asked me to tell you to be cautious in your upcoming interview. Soon, he'll transfer you to a TV station to start a special program."

"My master? Who?" Trish was confused. She had only become an apprentice yesterday and hadn't fully processed it. The woman—Natasha—sighed inwardly; neither the master nor the student seemed reliable.

"You mean the owner of the Dragon's Breath Teahouse?" Trish suddenly realized. "Did he help upgrade my show?"

Natasha nodded. "Yes. He said this is his gift to you for becoming his apprentice."

"An apprenticeship gift? He did mention that, but I didn't expect it to be so significant," Trish said, growing more astonished. She couldn't help but ask, "Is my master really that powerful?"

Natasha smiled. "He's doing alright. He's a bit wealthier than Tony Stark and holds shares in several major broadcasting companies."

"What?" Trish gasped. More than Tony Stark? How many people in America could claim that?

Had she stumbled upon a golden opportunity? Trish felt incredibly grateful that she had knelt down yesterday. If word got out, people would be lining up to kneel at the teahouse's door.

"She seems clueless. Why did Maverick take her as a disciple? What's his goal?" Natasha wondered. She then said, "Alright, Trish, review the materials. Besides you and the guest, there will be a well-known activist, Martin."

"Martin? So this is about a racial discrimination case?" Trish refocused, skimming through the documents. After a while, she exclaimed, "The Osborn Corporation?"

Natasha confirmed, "Yes. Your task is to confront them head-on. The tougher you are, the better. Don't worry; your master is backing you."

"I've always wanted to take on a big corporation." Trish said excitedly. She dove into the materials and then energetically went out to coordinate with her team.

As she left her office, she noticed that everyone's eyes were on her, but this time with envy and puzzlement.

Clearly, news had spread.

Trish smirked confidently, holding her head high as she walked in her high heels toward the manager's office. Along the way, people were suddenly eager to flatter her; the mockery was gone.

She was now the rising star. The host who had taunted her earlier even hid in the bathroom, too afraid to show her face.

"Heaven and hell are so close," Trish mused. She had thought today would be a disaster, but thanks to her master, it turned into a blessing.

Master, thank you so much.

At noon, the interview began. Trish asked Max, who seemed a bit nervous, "Mr. Max, you claim to have designed the city's power grid, but according to the information I found, your name isn't listed anywhere."

Max replied angrily, "They stole my work. The people at Osborn have been bullying me. On my birthday a few years ago, not only did they not congratulate me, they made me work overtime."

Trish asked knowingly, "Mr. Max, why would the people at Osborn bully you?"

Max, following Natasha's coaching, said, "Because I'm black. They discriminate against me. If I were white, I'd be a department manager by now. I'm the best engineer in the country."

The guest, Martin, reacted with outrage. "Max, are you saying Osborn's people are that oppressive?"

"Exactly. Osborn's executives are almost all white; hardly any black people make it to the top." Max shouted. "I want to sue them. I want credit for my work and fair treatment."

"Is that so? It's hard to believe a company like that still exists," Martin exclaimed. "Max, I support your lawsuit. Don't be afraid of them. The black community in America stands behind you. The days when white people could bully us with impunity are over."

With some behind-the-scenes assistance, this racial discrimination incident quickly escalated. Several black organizations protested outside Osborn's headquarters that very day. Major TV networks picked up the story, and Osborn's stock prices plummeted.

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[TL Note- I now know why this fic was dropped... sigh... welp sadly, i'm not one to give up lol]

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