Marvel: Ned the Master of Mystic Arts

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To express his apology to Huang Xiwen, Ned decided to personally make a classic dish for her: tomato and scrambled eggs.

Don't overthink it—yes, this was the only dish Ned could cook in both of his lifetimes.

"Oh, Ned…"

Huang Xiwen looked at him with a helpless expression.

"Just relax, my little cutie." Ned gently pushed her onto the sofa, turned on the TV, and headed to the kitchen.

He didn't notice how Huang Xiwen's face turned completely red after his words.

'What does Ned mean by that? Could he… could he be… oh no! How embarrassing!'

With her thoughts in turmoil, Huang Xiwen couldn't focus on whatever was on the television. Meanwhile, Ned, who had sharp hearing, vaguely heard something about Norman Osborn succumbing to a severe illness and Harry Osborn inheriting his father's business empire.

Dinner Time

"So… does this mean your parents might be coming back soon?"

During dinner, Ned casually brought up the topic.

"Huh? Why would you think that?"

Huang Xiwen asked in confusion, already having composed herself.

"Didn't you watch the news earlier? Norman Osborn just died, and his son has taken over his position."

Ned looked at her with equal confusion. She should have been aware of this, right?

"Oh…"

Huang Xiwen nodded and replied, "They won't come back. Don't worry."

After saying this, she stopped talking and focused on eating.

Seeing this, Ned didn't press further and started eating his meal nonchalantly.

Late at Night

Once again, Ned donned his mage's robes, cloak, and mask. The Midnight Daredevil returned to New York City.

"Hey, old lady, hand over your cash and scram!"

At a street corner, a bald, knife-wielding thug was threatening a well-dressed elderly woman, his face full of greed.

The thug thought to himself, Judging by her fancy clothes and jewelry, this old hag must be loaded. After this score, I can live it up for a while!

But before he could count his imagined fortune, the old woman spoke up.

"I've heard of you—the infamous 'Midnight Thief.' They say you rob and assault women, and your nickname is 'Long-Tongue Ghost.' Every woman you've targeted has been tormented to the brink of life and death. Is that true?"

"Since you know my name, you'd better hand over your money! Or I'll stab you right now!"

The thug impatiently thrust his knife closer, not expecting what would happen next.

The old woman abruptly threw off her coat, revealing a completely naked body beneath. She screamed dramatically, "Well, what are you waiting for? Come get me! I've been waiting all night!"

"What the…!"

The thug was utterly stunned. He had assaulted countless women before but had never encountered someone so wild—this lady had to be at least sixty! Though young and strong, even he couldn't handle this level of craziness.

"Damn it! Mother—!"

The thug cursed and turned to run, but the old woman chased after him, yelling, "Yes! Come get me! I'm ready for you!"

After a while, the thug managed to lose her, his younger legs outpacing her cumbersome movements. Finally, he leaned against a tree by the roadside, gasping for breath.

"That damned hag," he muttered angrily, "I'm so tired now, and it's too late for another score. What a wasted night!"

Wham!

The thug punched the tree in frustration, gritting his teeth.

"Is that you, Fury?"

Suddenly, a voice startled him, making him jump in fear.

"Whoa!"

The thug turned toward the source of the voice, instinctively reaching for the gun on his belt.

"Not Fury, huh?"

Ned, standing in the shadows, could now clearly see the thug's face. Although he was just as dark-skinned, he looked nothing like Nick Fury.

"Shit! It's the Midnight Daredevil!"

The thug yelled in anger and pulled out his gun, preparing to shoot.

"Well, I'm not a fan of that nickname, honestly," Ned said calmly, casting a spell through his mask. A powerful illusion enveloped the thug.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The thug fired his gun wildly at a tree, shouting, "Die, you bastard! I'll kill you and become famous overnight!"

"Hey, you missed," Ned said, appearing behind him and tapping his shoulder.

"Damn it!"

The thug turned around in horror, utterly stunned to see Ned standing there unharmed.

"Damn you!"

Smack!

Ned slapped the thug with a magically enhanced blow, knocking him unconscious.

He then opened a portal with a wave of his hand, effortlessly tossing the thug at the entrance of the NYPD precinct.

Of course, Ned had already frisked him, ensuring he didn't have a single cent left. Additionally, he cast a spell to imprint glowing golden words on the thug's body: Midnight Thief, Long-Tongue Ghost.

These glowing words would fade after the NYPD took him into custody. Until then, they would remain visible, consuming a small amount of Ned's magic.

But as the personal disciple of the Ancient One, Ned didn't care about such a trivial drain on his power. After all, he was planning to learn how to openly draw energy from various dimensions soon.

Just as Ned closed the portal and prepared to move on, a bizarre laugh echoed from the darkness.

"Caw… caw… caw…"

Ned immediately turned toward the source of the sound, his senses heightened. He was ready to open a portal to escape at any moment.

He suspected this might be an accomplice of the Black-Robed Man, coming to avenge him.

The eerie laugh alone was enough to convince Ned that the newcomer was a major villain.

His fear stemmed from his self-awareness—though he had managed to kill the Black-Robed Man, it had been through sheer luck and trickery. In reality, he was far weaker than his opponent.

Yet, to others, Ned's strength would appear to surpass the Black-Robed Man's.

Anyone bold enough to seek revenge under such circumstances would likely be at least as powerful as the Black-Robed Man.

Back then, even with two functional hands, Ned hadn't been a match for his enemy. Now, with only one hand left, staying to fight would be suicide.

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