Mysteries On Marvel

Standing at the intersection of a bustling street, Eren seemed to find himself at a crossroads in life. He planted the black cane firmly on the ground, its silver inlay gleaming faintly under the streetlights.

Behind his sunglasses, his eyes deepened as he entered a semi-meditative state.

As his spiritual intuition surged, the ever-present, mysterious world of spirituality unfolded before him.

Mentally repeating the phrase, "Take me to a place where I can grow stronger," seven times, Eren released his grip on the cane.

In the next second, the black cane tipped forward, pointing straight ahead.

"Straight ahead, then?"

...

Two hours later, following the guidance of his cane's divination, Eren passed through one intersection after another.

Unknowingly, he found himself in one of New York's most chaotic areas: Hell's Kitchen.

This place was infamous—not just in New York but throughout the country—as a cesspool of filth and depravity, a breeding ground for sin.

The cracked, sunken roads were littered with discarded trash, exuding the pungent stench of rot that assaulted the senses.

Flickering streetlights, barely functioning from neglect, cast eerie shadows over the cold streets.

Graffiti-covered alleyways stretched into darkness, and beneath the vibrant murals, figures could be seen huddled in shadows—vagrants, addicts, or worse.

Sometimes these individuals were mere beggars or unfortunates. Other times, they transformed into demons, attacking lone passersby for a scrap of food or a dose of powder.

On one graffiti-covered wall, a bold slogan declared: "Welcome to Hell's Kitchen."

"Hell's Kitchen? Never thought the divination would bring me here," Eren muttered.

He had been here once before, seeking revenge on the Water Ghost Gang's leader, "Giant Ghost" Onik.

It seemed fate had brought him back.

But what opportunity for growth could possibly await him here?

This place was rife with gangs, addicts, and petty criminals.

Could it be that his growth lay in sacrificing these human scums with his Curse Threads?

While such sacrifices would boost the Curse Threads' power, it wouldn't significantly enhance Eren's own strength. What he needed urgently was to elevate his abilities.

For instance, he needed to quickly digest the Jester Potion and advance to Spiritual Sequence 7: Magician.

Becoming a Magician would mark a significant leap in power, granting him greater confidence in dealing with the world's emerging superheroes.

Shaking his head, Eren dismissed the idea of sacrificing random criminals.

"Or is this a sign I should emulate that clown from Arkham and unify Hell's Kitchen's criminal underworld?"

Hmm.

That didn't seem like a bad idea either.

New York's gangs were no pushovers. If Eren could consolidate their power under his control, they would at least serve as useful cannon fodder.

After all, if the Joker of Gotham could unite his city's crime syndicates and become a symbol of chaos, why couldn't he?

Though Eren wasn't as insane, they were both "Jokers." What one could do, the other could too, right?

Unconsciously, a grin spread across Eren's face.

"Alright. From today onward, call me Joker—Joker Eren. Perfect to distinguish me from my original self."

With this decision made, Joker Eren reached into his backpack and retrieved a clown mask he had acquired earlier.

Placing the mask over his face, he admired his reflection in a nearby store window.

"Now I really look the part."

As he stared at the reflection, something intangible seemed to break free from the mask, flooding Joker Eren's mind.

An overwhelming surge of terror, madness, and chaotic, incomprehensible energy crashed into his consciousness like a tidal wave.

"Hsss—!"

Joker Eren drew a sharp breath as the onslaught of madness consumed him.

Suddenly, a maniacal laugh echoed in his mind. Piercing and relentless, it reverberated as if the source of the laughter was laughing itself to exhaustion.

The laugh carried a strange power, an infectious quality that attacked Joker Eren's spirit and soul, attempting to reshape them in its image.

Under the influence of this laugh, Joker Eren's consciousness began to spiral into insanity.

At the critical moment, a cosmic brain-like image emerged in his mind—a construct that seemed to contain endless galaxies and stars.

This manifestation solidified his spiritual power into the shape of the cosmic brain, isolating the deranged laughter.

Thankfully, even with only half his soul, Joker Eren's mental strength far exceeded that of ordinary people.

Otherwise, forming the cosmic brain would have been impossible.

"What the hell is this thing?"

Freeing himself from the influence of the eerie laughter, Joker Eren quickly tore off the clown mask.

He knew full well that the sinister laugh was undoubtedly linked to this mask.

"Damn it! This was supposed to be a mundane item! How the hell does it have abilities like that?"

Upon closer inspection, Joker Eren noticed something peculiar about the mask.

Though it appeared unchanged, its texture and aura were now subtly different.

Even a casual glance at the mask gave him a sense of dissonance and distortion, leaving an unsettling impression.

He shuddered to think how this mask might affect others. Wearing it in battle would undoubtedly instill fear and chaos among his enemies, paralyzing them with psychological pressure.

Flipping the mask over, Joker Eren's sharp eyes caught sight of a previously unseen inscription on the inside.

"To my dearest love—Jerome."

Jerome?

Holy crap.

This mask had belonged to that lunatic, Jerome—the original Joker.

No wonder it carried such a twisted, eerie laugh. It was imbued with Jerome's essence.

Realizing this, Joker Eren began to understand why this supposedly mundane mask possessed such bizarre powers.

Well.

It seemed only fitting for something tied to the Joker to be a little... abnormal.

(End of Chapter)

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