c11: The Black Widow Arrives
The synchronization progress jumped from 25% to 28% a solid 3% increase!
As expected, completing a mission assigned by a client boosted his performance rating within the character system.
Though it was only a modest 3%, it confirmed Ryan Wong's theory: mission-based progression worked. There was no flaw in his logic.
That realization alone made the strawberry-flavored lollipop in his mouth taste even sweeter.
Then, his eyes rose to meet young Peter Parker's wide-eyed, awestruck expression. Ryan grinned.
If he wanted more missions and more progress he'd need to keep impressing the future Spider-Man.
After all, once you've had a taste of success, it's only natural to want more.
Ryan set his sights on earning another task from Peter. But for that to happen, Peter had to truly believe in his strength believe that Ryan Wong was a force on par with the likes of Doctor Strange or Batman.
Otherwise, why would the kid entrust him with something worthy of increasing his character stats?
That said, Ryan noticed a pattern: the difficulty of the task seemed to directly influence the percentage increase in his system's synchronization.
For example, when he fulfilled the final wish of his previous character a mission that involved confronting a berserk Hulk and a bloodthirsty Abomination (whose recent gamma surges rivaled his past World War Hulk levels) he earned a whopping 10%.
But this time, assisting an unpowered Peter by stopping a petty criminal like Bald John? Just 3%.
The difference was night and day.
The former task was a boss-level encounter, something worthy of an Omega-level mutant or someone in Justice League Dark. The latter? More of a street-level beatdown, like a Tuesday for Moon Knight or Red Hood.
So that raised a question: would he need to continuously seek out more dangerous, high-risk missions to maximize his progression?
As that thought passed through his mind, his hands were already moving.
Without hesitation, Ryan reached into his ninja pouch and drew several tri-pronged kunai each one etched with a custom teleportation mark, a fusion of the Flying Thunder God Jutsu and Stark nanotech-enhanced targeting circuits.
He hurled them precisely toward the corners of the nearby block specifically at locations where several shady figures were lurking behind dumpsters and broken cars, pretending to be bystanders but watching far too intently.
Ryan wasn't stupid.
These weren't innocent civilians they were the type who'd deal arms to HYDRA, sell intel to LexCorp, or traffic metahuman DNA for the Weapon Plus Program.
And Ryan intended to make an example out of them right in front of Peter.
It was time for a power flex, something that would show the young web-slinger what it really meant to carry responsibility and power.
After all, anyone bold enough to spectate this kind of chaos with that kind of expression on their face wasn't just a bystander. And if they were complicit, even just passively?
Well, Ryan saw no issue in cleaning up a bit.
After all, life is about living with a clear conscience.
You can fool others, but not yourself.
So, Ryan chose to follow his instincts to do what felt right, and to enjoy the thrill of it.
And hey, if he could help others in the process and level up his system performance at the same time?
Even better.
Swish~!!
The Flying Thunder God technique activated in a rapid chain. Like a blur of golden light and chakra resonance, Ryan Wong channeling the speed and precision of Minato Namikaze teleported next to each lurking thug.
With a fluid motion that combined Batman's martial artistry and Flash's speed-based momentum, he dropped each of them with a clean punch and a decisive kick, then teleported again, hurling them into the middle of the street like discarded garbage bags.
Bang, bang, bang...
The so-called street predators now tasted the same helplessness they once dished out to the vulnerable. Their groans were low and choked not just from pain, but humiliation.
Meanwhile, young Peter Parker stared in astonishment, eyes wide behind his taped-up glasses. Ryan Wong was unreal.
And then, from inside one of the bodega shops, someone finally connected the dots. "Wait! Isn't that the superhero from the top-ranked video on SuperTube?"
"No way!" another gasped, quickly pulling out their StarkPhone and swiping open the trending feed.
"Oh my God, you're right—it's the Fourth Hokage! The one who took down Abomination and knocked Hulk unconscious! That was trending all last month!"
"Why would someone like that show up in Hell's Kitchen? Is he planning to clean up this war zone?"
Ryan's eyes flickered with interest.
Cleaning up Hell's Kitchen? Now that sounded like a high-difficulty mission.
He sent a casual nod of appreciation toward the shopkeeper who'd said it, then started calculating. The area was crawling with low-tier villains, black-market arms dealers, and the occasional Kingpin affiliate. It would definitely qualify as a long-term progression task.
Meanwhile, the thugs lying bruised in the street including the maimed Bald John heard everything. And like civilians spotting Doomsday on the news, they all reached for their phones with trembling hands.
And what they saw shocked them speechless.
It was Ryan Wong masked as the Fourth Hokage in the system ripping through a gamma-raged Abomination, and in another frame, blasting a leaping Hulk into a crater.
The raw power. The teleportation speed. The sealing techniques reinforced by Stark nanotech. It was terrifyingly real.
They glanced at each other, silently screaming regret.
Why didn't we check social media earlier?
If we'd known he had Minato-level speed and Hulk-busting power, we wouldn't have touched him!
And now?
He hadn't even revealed his identity at first. Instead, he kept it low-key, pretending to be just some weirdo with weird tools.
Classic pig-disguised-as-sheep play. So 2020s...
Despite their mental groaning, none of the criminals dared move. The moment they recognized Ryan's power, they stayed frozen, glued to the pavement like Arkham inmates faking unconsciousness during a Batcave raid.
Even Bald John, despite his bloodied stump and his fury toward Ryan, kept his curses locked inside his skull. His pride screamed, but the fear of dying made his body obey.
Because when death stares you in the face, persuasion becomes meaningless.
And just then.a sleek black sports car skidded to a smooth stop at the border of Hell's Kitchen. The door popped open, and a woman in a form-fitting tactical suit stepped out.
She moved like a ballet dancer and a cobra wrapped into one.
Flawless face, lithe curves, dangerous elegance.
Her auburn hair, curled in soft waves, bounced as she walked. Every sway of her hips carried a promise of violence and grace.
She was Natasha Romanoff the Black Widow.
Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., elite spy, future Avenger, and trained in both Red Room tactics and Stark-era espionage.
As she moved closer to the battlefield, she tapped her comms earpiece, her voice low and measured.
"I've got visual confirmation. I'm uploading real-time footage. I'll approach with caution."
A pause.
"Director, are you absolutely sure I shouldn't bring in backup?" she added, her eyes narrowing slightly.
But the gravelly voice of Nick Fury S.H.I.E.L.D.'s director and a man who'd stared down aliens, gods, and politicians.replied flatly through the earpiece.
"Natasha. When you're dealing with someone that strong, numbers don't matter."
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