Marvel: A Man with a System

[David POV]

The last couple of days had been chaotic. Helping Jay, dealing with the loan sharks. But I played it smart. When their collectors came, I bribed them so they would forget about last night happenings and I had erased all evidence in phone in front of them.

And they bought it. I knew they were dumb, decided to gamble on it, and it worked like a charm. Of course, I had backups, multiple copies.

Still, despite the stress, these last few days had their moments. And now, I had a responsibility; Jayden.

I had brought it upon myself, but I couldn't just walk away and let that kid suffer. He reminded me too much of my past life. Maybe by helping him, just maybe, I could wash away some of my regrets.

Most people would call this reckless, even stupid. This world was dangerous, and taking in a kid like Jay could invite trouble. Didn't matter. I wasn't changing my mind.

After dealing with these thugs, there was one more thing I had to do. I headed to Ivan's Diner, the place I had worked for years. And now, it was time to leave.

I stood outside, staring at the big "Closing Soon" sign taped to the window. I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

Well, that makes quitting a little easier.

I stepped inside. The place almost empty, just a few regulars hanging around. For the first time, I didn't head to the back to change into my uniform. Instead, I went looking for Joe.

I found him in the kitchen, talking to someone. It looked like one of the cooks had already quit. That left only two, with all the young assistants long gone. I waited until Joe caught sight of me. He smiled but immediately knew something was up. I gave him a small nod, gesturing toward the kitchen door. Without a word, I walked outside.

Two minutes later, Joe joined me. "Hey, kid. What's up?" he asked.

"You should've figured it out by now," I said.

Joe let out a long sigh. "Yeah… I guess so." He didn't look surprised. Why would he? With the diner shutting down in a few days, everyone was leaving whether they liked it or not.

"Figured as much." He grabbed a coffee mug and poured himself a cup. "You're not sticking around for the funeral?"

"Didn't see the point."

Joe nodded. "Well, hell. Can't blame you."

I leaned against the counter, glancing around. The place might not have been much, but it had been a constant in old David's life.

"What about you?" I asked. "Any plans?"

"Yeah," Joe said, taking a sip of coffee. "I'll be moving out of New York soon."

I let out a low whistle. "Honestly? Sounds like the right move."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And why's that?"

I threw my hands up dramatically. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because we just had a full-scale alien invasion right in the middle of this city? And call me crazy, but I really don't think that was the last one."

Joe blinked at me. Then, he burst out laughing. "Shit, you might be right," he said between chuckles. "Maybe I should get out while I still can."

We both turned to look at the diner. A moment of silence. I exhaled and gave him a small nod. "Anyway, Joe… thanks, man. For everything."

Joe just shook his head. "Don't get sentimental on me, kid."

But his expression softened for a moment.

Then, he added, "Go see Mr. Thompson before you vanish into the wind. And don't forget to collect your last paycheck."

The meeting with my boss wasn't long. I walked into his office, and he barely looked up from the papers on his desk. "I'm quitting," I said, getting straight to the point.

Mr. Thompson didn't even react. He just reached into his drawer, pulled out an envelope, and tossed it onto the desk.

I picked it up and I felt it heavier than usual.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off with a grunt and a wave of his hand. "Get out of here," he muttered.

That was it. And I didn't linger any longer, I bolted out of there.

When I stepped outside, Joe was leaning against the diner's door, arms crossed, watching me with that knowing look. "How'd it go?" he asked.

I sighed. "All good. He grunted and waved me out."

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, sounds about right."

Joe clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Well, kid, good luck out there."

Before I left, I turned back to him. "If you ever run into trouble, call me."

He snorted. "You? Looking out for me?"

I shrugged. "Hey, you never know."

Joe just laughed, shaking his head. "Go on, get outta here before you get all sentimental on me."

I chuckled, shaking my head, gave him a wave, and walked away.

---

---

The world was becoming more dangerous by the day in the shadows, and New York would be at the center of chaos.

I needed to get stronger. And I had the means to do so.

But I had to be careful, not attract any unwanted attention. I wasn't aiming for anything grand. No world domination, no superhero dreams. I just wanted to live my life on my terms. To protect the people I cared about. Even if it meant going against the whole world.

The training in the warehouse had been monotonous, but it paid off.

My Hand-to-Hand Combat Mastery gave me knowledge, but knowledge without experience was useless. So, I put in the hours. Built the muscle memory. Turned technique into instinct.

I had just finished my night training when I heard it.

A scream.

Then, silence.

I stopped.

The sound came from a side alley, swallowed by the hum of the distant traffic.

I exhaled slowly.

Come on. It's not your problem. Not your problem at all.

You could just walk away.

Walk away like nothing ever happened here.

Yeah, keep walking.

You didn't hear anything.

I turned away.

Then, against my better judgment

Screw it.

I turned back and stepped into the alley.

And I didn't like what I saw.

Five men.

Three restraining a struggling woman, while the other two loaded an unconscious woman into the back of a truck.

My jaw clenched.

I slipped behind a dumpster, exhaled through my nose, and cursed inwardly.

"Fuck. Me and my big mouth. Just when I thought I'd have a peaceful night."

If I didn't intervene now, those women were gone. I knew I could take them. It was dark enough that I had an advantage.

I reached into my inventory, pulled out my newly bought hockey mask, and slid it on. My hoodie went up.

I took out one of my knuckle dusters and fitted it over my right hand.

Then I moved. I closed the distance with a burst of speed.

The first thug didn't even register what was happening before my knuckle-duster-clad fist crashed into his jaw. He crumpled like a sack of bricks.

The second guy barely had time to react before my elbow slammed into his temple. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped, unconscious before he even hit the pavement.

Two down.

The third one realized what was happening and swung wildly. I ducked, caught his wrist, twisted it behind his back, and slammed him face-first into the truck. A brutal hammer-fist to the back of his head finished the job.

Then when I turned, the fourth guy had drawn a pistol, aiming it right at my chest.

Shit.

I panicked. I wasn't bulletproof. I didn't have super speed. I had no way to dodge a point-blank shot.

Time slowed.

I felt my heartbeat hammering in my chest.

Then my vision sharpened.

I saw everything in painstaking detail, the flicker of streetlights on the gun's barrel, the twitch of the thug's finger as he pulled the trigger.

And my body moved.

Before I even realized it, I shifted just enough for the bullet to graze past me.

BANG!

The shot whizzed past, missing by inches.

The thug's eyes widened in shock.

He fired again.

But this time, I was ready.

I lunged forward, grabbed his wrist, twisted it sharply.

BANG!

The next shot went wild, hitting the pavement near my feet.

With a brutal wrench, I disarmed him, ripped the gun from his grip, and tossed it aside. Then, a bone-crunching punch to the ribs.

He collapsed, screaming.

The last guy—the one standing by the van—froze. His eyes darted around, looking for an escape. Then, in desperation, he swung wildly.

Didn't matter.

I closed the gap in an instant, ducked under his swing, and drove a hard right hook into his jaw. His head snapped back.

He dropped. Out cold.

My eyes snapped back to the fourth guy.

The bastard who tried to shoot me.

A burn of anger built in my chest.

That asshole actually tried to kill me.

I walked over to him. He was groaning, clutching his ribs, barely conscious.

I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him up just enough to send a vicious right hook into his face. His head whipped back.

I hit him again, my knuckle duster making a sickening crunch against bone. His nose exploded with blood.

Another punch and another.

I only stopped when his body slumped completely. Unconscious.

I exhaled sharply, shaking out my fist. The rage somewhat simmered down.

Then, I pulled off my knuckle duster and tossed it into my inventory. My hands were aching from the impact, I just brushed it off.

Then I switched to my full-finger gloves, slipping them on with a deep breath.

I took out my phone and snapped pictures of the five men, making sure to get clear shots of their faces. Then, I turned to the two women, taking pictures of them as well just in case.

Next, I rummaged through the truck.

Duct tape. Rope. Perfect.

I scanned the thugs who were sprawled on the ground. Butterfly knives. Wallets. Phones. Money.

I took photos of their driver's licenses for later, if needed. I emptied their wallets and pockets of their cash. Hehe.

Then, I grabbed the duct tape and rope and got to work.

One by one, I tied their hands behind their backs and bound their feet together. For extra measure, I wrapped duct tape over their mouths. Once secured, I neatly arranged them by the van, side by side, like garbage waiting for pickup.

Then, I turned to the women.

I carried them away from the scumbags, placing them separately in a safer spot. I checked their pulses, steady. At least they were still breathing. I also looked for their purses which I quickly found. I checked for any identification but there was none. Maybe be they had it on them.

I looked down at them.

Yeah not my problem.

Then, using one of the thug's phones—the one who tried to shoot me—I dialed 911.

I took short breaths, making it making sure to sound panicked.

"H-Hello! I just heard gunshots—two of them! In an alley near XX and XX! Please, send help! I think someone's hurt!"

My voice trembled just enough to sell it. I didn't wait for a response.

I dropped the phone onto the thug's chest and quickly stepped away.

Without a sound, I scaled a fire escape of the nearest building, found a dark spot, took out my Binoculars which I had brought earlier that month.

From there, I watched as two patrol police officers went inside the alley, then securing the scene, they called in. Soon some more patrol cars arrived followed by ambulances.

The police started doing their jobs and while paramedics checked on the women.

With one last glance, I turned and escaped.

To Be Continued...