C74: 1 Hammer Trade
At the very least, as you said before, I did shoot Kilgrave in the head.
In the dimly lit warehouse, the crisis looming over the street-level heroes—Jessica Jones, Daredevil, and Luke Cage had finally lifted with the fall of Zebediah Kilgrave, the infamous Purple Man.
Back in the antique shop tucked into the edges of Chinatown, Li Ran calmly withdrew his gaze from the scene displayed through his system's spectral interface. His eyes refocused on the translucent system screen that hovered in front of him like a hologram Tony Stark might design.
[Legend]: 11185
The flow of accumulated fame had risen faster than Li Ran expected. Especially that final surge of recognition after Kilgrave—a villain feared even by the likes of Charles Xavier for his near-absolute mind control over humans—was killed, had brought the highest influx of fame since Li Ran first gained the system.
There is indeed great fear in mortal peril. And where there is fear, there is influence. Where there is influence, there is legend.
Of course, killing Kilgrave was a one-time jackpot—one clean shot from Wesley, the chakra-forged doppelgänger under Li Ran's control. Compared to the steady and repeated fame acquisition through [Phantom Thief Kid], which functioned like an urban legend weaving itself into the city's mythos, this was a meteor: brilliant, sudden, and gone in a flash.
Still, fame is fame.
Li Ran shook off the mental fog of theorizing system mechanics. He had more pressing matters to focus on.
The [Legend] counter had passed 10,000—a significant milestone. That meant the [Bronze Treasure Chest] he had long coveted was now within reach.
Exchange!
Without hesitation, Li Ran confirmed the system prompt. A new treasure chest materialized before him, suspended in that familiar blue-white aura of the system. It shimmered with an aged copper hue—far more refined than the rugged [Black Iron Treasure Chest] he had opened previously. Perhaps it was just a trick of perception, but Li Ran swore this one carried a heavier aura of importance.
10,000 points' worth of legend... it better be good.
Li Ran took a calming breath. "Open."
With the familiar flash of light that seemed to part dimensional veils, the [Bronze Treasure Chest] opened. Inside, two distinct items floated forward like holographic projections:
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[Item: Jetwind Shell]
Effect: Kinetic Impact
Origin: Sky Island – One Piece World
Description: A rare Dial (shell) once used by God Enel's priests in battle and navigation. This shell absorbs and releases wind energy to create high-speed propulsion. Extinct in modern Skypiea. Often installed in small crafts like Wavers.
Note: Peng~~~~~~~~
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[Item: Dim Spiritual Power Talisman (D-Class)]
Effect: Strength Enhancement (10%)
Duration: 30 minutes (single-use)
Description: A rudimentary talisman produced by a fledgling Taoist practitioner, likely from the early-stage Daoist sects of the DC Universe's Shadowpact lore. Designed to amplify chi channels when adhered to any part of the body.
Note 1: Semi-finished and unstable.
Note 2: "I feel my whole body coursing with power!"
Note 3: Works on any part of the body~
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These items were immediately more practical than anything Li Ran had drawn from the [Black Iron] tier. Both the Jetwind Shell and the Talisman were battlefield-ready, suitable for either mobility or short-term enhancement tools that could mean life or death in the world of superpowers and ancient conspiracies.
Ignoring the slightly suggestive implications of Note 3, Li Ran's focus turned toward the final item revealed from the chest—a card. A familiar ripple of tension stirred in his chest. The rarity marker glowed:
[C-Rank Bronze Card: Ancient Sword Soul – Fire Cloud Evil God]
Skill: Tathagata Palm – Ninefold Style
Lore Origin: From "Palm of the Tathagata," a wuxia martial arts classic. Depicts a reclusive martial artist in his late forties, notorious for his disdain for societal norms and revered as the "Evil God" due to his unmatched strength. In his world, he was a one-man martial apocalypse.
Note: The first form of Tathagata Palm has toppled mountain fortresses and shattered battlefields...
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While this wasn't the ultimate version of the Fire Cloud Evil God Li Ran had previously referenced through Ah Xing, it was clear that this iteration, designated as "Ancient Sword Soul," represented one of the peak C-rank combatants available in the system. The Tathagata Palm technique—legendary even among martial arts fantasy is practically the wuxia universe's version of a Hulk-level impact strike.
A martial arts nuclear option.
In his antique shop, as incense curled in the air and the remnants of Kilgrave's death echoed in system notifications, Li Ran allowed a grin to creep across his face. He now had a martial artist on par with the likes of Batman in pure physical training—except this one could split a mountain with his palm.
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Meanwhile, in Hell's Kitchen.
Danny Rand, the Immortal Iron Fist, had returned from Cambodia—his latest foray into tracking the movements of the Hand, the ancient ninja clan that plagued him since childhood. Despite the defenders' recent victories, the Hand had adapted. They'd gone deeper underground, harder to trace—even for someone like Danny, who had trained in Kunlun and punched a dragon to gain his chi powers.
"I'm telling you, I don't know anything!" the street informant insisted. "I've seen weirdos—ninjas, even—but they haven't shown up in days."
"You're lying," Danny said, his voice calm but resolute. His hand pulsed with golden chi, lighting up the alleyway like Mjolnir in a thunderstorm. "And if I find out you are..."
The man broke.
"Okay, okay! They were spotted not long ago, near Hell's Kitchen—on Fisk's turf!"
"Fisk..."
Danny released his grip, the golden glow dimming. He muttered the name to himself: Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin. Not just a crime lord, but someone whose ties to the Hand ran deeper than the public suspected. The man Danny had interrogated bolted, nearly knocking over a pedestrian.
Said pedestrian—an Asian man in a traditional Tang suit—sidestepped calmly and adjusted his sleeve. His gaze lingered briefly on the fleeing man, then turned back to the alley.
"Excuse me, little brother..." he said softly, approaching Danny.
Years of Kunlun conditioning kicked in. Danny reacted on reflex—spinning with a tight elbow strike before he could stop himself.
"Oh crap."
Mid-strike, he realized his mistake. This was New York, not a Hand ambush.
The man wasn't an enemy—at least, not yet.
And it was far too late to pull back.
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