[Mysteries On Marvel] Chapter 71/80

The exclamations ringing in his ears felt like blatant mockery, causing Flash's face to flush with shame and fury. In a fit of rage, he shouted, "You're asking for it!"

Flash sprang to his feet, clenching his fist to strike at Eren's face.

But the next second, his burning gaze met an icy, piercing stare that froze him in place. It was as though a bucket of cold water had doused his rage, extinguishing it instantly.

A surge of terror, as if being stared down by a prehistoric tyrannosaurus, engulfed him, leaving him breathless and dizzy.

"Bang!"

While Flash was momentarily paralyzed by the weakened version of [Dreadful Gaze], Eren delivered a swift kick, sending Flash flying like a kite with a broken string. He crashed into the corridor railing and passed out cold.

As Flash was flung aside, his group of basketball teammates hesitated, seemingly ready to intervene.

Eren, however, turned abruptly. The lingering remnants of the [Dreadful Gaze] in his eyes swept coldly across the group.

"Anyone else want to join him?"

Each student who dared to meet Eren's gaze felt an indescribable chill creep up their spine, and they quickly averted their eyes in terror.

At that moment, it felt like they were standing before a demon from the depths of hell—one too fearsome to face.

Satisfied with the sudden silence, Eren smirked.

[Dreadful Gaze] really turned out to be unexpectedly effective against ordinary people.

"Heh."

With no one daring to block his way, Eren helped the trembling, wide-eyed chubby kid out of the classroom.

Out of gratitude for the kid's earlier loyalty, Eren decided to treat him to lunch.

But soon, Eren regretted his hasty decision.

"Hey, Eren, did you see that? After you sent Flash flying, his whole basketball team got scared stiff when you just looked at them!"

"Pfft, useless bunch. All muscles, no guts."

"By the way, Eren, since when were you so strong? You've been hiding this from me!"

"Man, the way you handled them was so cool! If only I could be that awesome someday…"

"..."

Sitting across from the overly enthusiastic chatterbox, Eren felt his brain buzz as the endless prattle assaulted his senses. This chubby guy's constant rambling was worse than the whispers of an eldritch god.

If it weren't for their recent "shared hardship," Eren might have been tempted to tape that mouth shut.

Barely managing to eat a few bites, Eren finally couldn't stand the chatter. Using a bathroom break as an excuse, he secretly paid the bill and slipped away.

When the afternoon class bell rang, Eren returned to the classroom, greeted by the chubby kid's resentful glare.

The math teacher had already begun writing problems on the board.

Under the teacher's stern authority, the chubby kid didn't dare to act out again, giving Eren a moment of peace.

Apart from the chatterbox's antics, Eren noticed something else upon returning to class—the other students were looking at him with newfound respect and awe.

It was likely a result of the events earlier that day.

Eren didn't dwell on it, though.

The afternoon classes flew by.

When the dismissal bell rang, Eren declined the chubby kid's invitation to ride the school bus together. Instead, he pulled a black card from his pocket, hailed a cab, and headed to the address written on the card.

The destination was a minimalist, slightly aged building labeled "Tom's Shooting Club."

"So this is Tom's Shooting Club?"

Eren glanced at the signboard and then at the nearby street corner, where a police department logo was faintly visible. He shrugged.

No wonder George was so familiar with this club—it was practically around the corner from the 13th Precinct.

Running a shooting club under the cops' noses definitely required some skill.

Walking into the club, Eren handed the black card from George to the receptionist.

After a brief verification and a quick registration of Eren's details, he was escorted into the club's interior.

"Mr. Eren, since this is your first visit, would you like us to assign you a shooting coach to help you master the basics?"

Eren replied, "George from the 13th Precinct recommended Old Jerry. Is he available now?"

George's name carried weight.

Upon hearing it, the receptionist immediately confirmed that Old Jerry was available.

After notifying another staff member to fetch Old Jerry, Eren was led to an enclosed shooting range underground.

Not long after Eren entered the range, a man dressed like a Western cowboy, walking with a noticeable limp, approached him.

The name tag on his chest confirmed that this was the sharpshooter Eren was looking for.

Old Jerry eyed Eren's hands and remarked, "A beginner?"

"Yes."

"Got it. My fees are higher than the regular coaches—$300 per hour. If you're fine with that, we can start right away."

Despite retiring from the military, Old Jerry's straightforwardness still reflected his disciplined background.

"The price is fine. Let's start."

Seeing that Eren had no issue with the cost, Old Jerry summoned a staff member to sign a basic contract with him. Then, he began teaching Eren the fundamentals of firearms.

This was precisely what Eren needed most.

After about ten minutes of explaining the stats, strengths, and weaknesses of five common handguns, Old Jerry selected the most suitable gun for Eren based on his hand size and finger length. He handed it to him, signaling the start of their practice.

(End of Chapter)

"Glock 19, compact and lightweight, low recoil, standard magazine capacity of 15 rounds—suitable for beginners and practice," Old Jerry explained while tossing a Glock 19 to Eren.

Leading Eren to the shooting range, Jerry barked a command to the staff, "10-meter target."

They proceeded to a vacant slot marked as number 5, where Jerry began instructing Eren on shooting techniques.

Old Jerry's reputation as a retired military sharpshooter was well-deserved. His extraordinary sensitivity to firearms became evident as he corrected Eren's mistakes after just a few shots.

Following Jerry's advice, Eren adjusted some minor errors in his posture and grip, leading to a noticeable improvement in accuracy. The embarrassing scenario of missing the 10-meter target completely with his first two shots quickly became a thing of the past.

Gradually, Eren stopped blindly firing after barely aiming. Instead, he practiced repeatedly, tweaking his grip and adjusting his aiming angle before pulling the trigger.

After emptying a magazine, Jerry instructed Eren to take a short break, relax his tense muscles, and reload the magazine with fresh bullets.

Taking a moment to recall the sensations from earlier shots, Eren gripped the Glock 19 firmly, adjusted his posture slightly to suit his habits, and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The bullet struck the edge of the target—a score of one.

Not bad for a start.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gaining confidence, Eren continued firing, refining his technique through practice. After emptying another magazine, he stopped to reflect on his progress.

"Not bad. You've improved a lot, but your wrist muscles are still too stiff while shooting," Jerry remarked.

Satisfied with Eren's rapid progress, Jerry pointed out a few more issues in his shooting stance and technique.

Eren took the feedback to heart, made adjustments, and resumed his practice.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The gunshots echoed in the range as Eren alternated between practice and breaks.

Under Jerry's guidance, his accuracy improved steadily. He progressed from missing the target entirely to consistently hitting it, and eventually, he began aiming for higher scores.

After his seventh magazine, Eren shook his sore arms.

Jerry suggested, "Take a break. That's enough shooting for today. You've fired over 100 rounds for your first session. I recommend getting one of the staff to massage your arm muscles, or you might not even be able to lift your arms tomorrow."

Jerry hesitated briefly before adding, "Don't worry; the massage service is free."

Tom's Shooting Club charged a hefty annual fee, but it included such amenities to ensure a premium experience.

"Got it!"

As a novice, Eren gladly accepted the advice.

A slender female attendant arrived shortly after and began massaging Eren's arms.

While his body relaxed, Eren's mind remained active.

Seizing the opportunity, Jerry pulled up a chair beside Eren and began explaining firearm mechanics and shooting techniques in a simplified manner. The clear and concise explanations helped Eren grasp the concepts quickly, accelerating his understanding of firearms.

By the end of the session, Eren felt that the $300-per-hour fee for Jerry's lessons was well worth it.

After paying for two hours of Jerry's instruction and settling additional fees for ammunition and equipment wear, Eren left the club. The total came to under $50—a reasonable price.

Eren hailed a cab and headed back to Chinatown.

Once home, Eren referred to the Nutritionist's Recipe Manual, selecting ingredients he could source locally to prepare a nutritious, balanced meal for himself.

The meal, rich in nutrients, left him completely stuffed.

Despite following the smallest portion sizes in the manual, Eren couldn't help but marvel at the appetite of the gene-enhanced warriors described in the book. They must have stomachs like black holes to consume several kilograms of food in one sitting.

To Eren's surprise, the meal wasn't just palatable—it was effective.

As the food digested, he felt a warm flow of energy spreading from his stomach to his entire body. Though it wasn't as potent as consuming a nutrient solution directly, it was far superior to regular meals.

"Not bad," Eren mused, lounging on the second-floor sofa and watching TV. "Until the lab is set up, I can experiment with preparing more meals tailored to my needs."

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the cleanup was being handled autonomously. Dishes and cooking tools were washed until spotless, and even the scraps and leftovers from meal preparation were efficiently disposed of by his small companion.

On TV, nearly half the channels were broadcasting news about Tony Stark's return. The most shocking revelation was Stark's announcement that Stark Industries would cease its weapons development program entirely.

The idea of the world's largest arms dealer shutting down its most profitable division sounded absurd—like a joke too far-fetched for April Fool's Day.

The sensational news spread across the federation at lightning speed and was rapidly gaining traction worldwide.

The most immediate and significant reaction came from Stark Industries' stock prices.

Within an hour of the press conference, their shares plummeted.

(End of Chapter)

"Stark Industries' stock is plummeting. This is… fantastic news!"

For Eren, who had shorted Stark Industries' stock, the collapse was nothing less than a windfall.

This meant a considerable influx of cash was heading his way.

With such a pleasant thought, Eren resumed his meditation.

Above the ruins of Abbott Freezing Company's warehouse, reduced to rubble in a previous explosion.

"Humming~"

A figure wearing a top hat strolled nonchalantly under the moonlight, stepping over the police's caution tape as if it didn't exist, walking boldly into the wreckage.

Suddenly, his cheerful humming halted, and his steps froze.

Though he quickly returned to his usual carefree demeanor, a flicker of surprise—and delight—lingered beneath the shadow of his hat.

"Hehe."

"The aura of an eldritch god? Abbott, that incompetent fool, actually managed to catch the attention of an eldritch being and survived a sacrificial ritual?"

"What a… miracle!"

"However, for such a gaze to pierce through the Sanctum's barriers and reach New York… it seems the rumors about something happening at Kamar-Taj might be true."

"This is truly delightful news."

But before the delight faded, his face twisted into anger.

"To think such a promising start was ruined by a group of ordinary people! Abbott even lost his life to them. What a complete waste of my time. How could I have been blind enough to choose such a useless pawn out of everyone available?"

He wasn't upset about Abbott's death itself but about the stalled growth of the larva hidden beneath the altar due to the lack of blood and resentment to nourish it after Abbott's demise.

Despite his grim mood, the man raised his cane and tapped it heavily on the spot where the altar once stood.

Bang!

An invisible ripple spread from the cane, reaching deep underground.

Moments later, the crimson surface of a larva nestled deep below cracked with a sharp sound.

The next second, a writhing, shadowy form emerged from the shell.

Hearing the crack, the man's face lit up with unrestrained joy.

Just as he reached to claim the spider egg he had placed beneath the altar, a slender tendril shot out from the ground, piercing his chest.

Looking down at the wound, the man showed no fear. Instead, he grinned maniacally.

"Shadow Touch? It's already mastering spells of this level right after hatching. Has the eldritch god's influence caused some sort of mutation? This is… perfect."

Blood poured from the wound, staining the tendril and spreading into the ground below.

Within moments, the vegetation within a several-meter radius withered and decayed as if struck by a deadly poison.

In the next instant, the man's spirit emerged from his body. Grasping the tendril tightly, his soul flowed into the ground, merging with the shadowy form of the larva below.

...

The following morning.

While Eren was having breakfast, Pepper arrived with a group of people.

"This is…"

Seeing Eren's puzzled look, Pepper introduced the slightly overweight, greasy-looking man wearing a blue hard hat.

"This is Mr. Tom, the best project supervisor at Stark Industries. He's overseen everything from Tony's lab to other critical projects. He'll be responsible for the renovation and construction of your underground lab."

The man nodded politely at Eren and asked, "Mr. Eren, may I inspect your basement first? While Pepper has provided me with the design blueprints, I'd like to see the space myself to better plan the construction process."

"Of course, no problem."

Eren opened the door, allowing Tom and his assistant inside. After examining the first-floor layout, Tom headed straight for the basement.

As he descended the narrow staircase, Tom frowned and turned to Eren.

"Mr. Eren, I noticed that the lab will house some large, high-precision equipment that isn't easily disassembled. To ensure smooth transportation, may I suggest modifying this staircase?"

Eren nodded, "Sure."

Relieved, Tom continued into the brightly lit and spacious basement, his eyes lighting up.

"Ah, you've already cleared this area?" Pepper commented in surprise.

Eren nodded, "Since I'm building a lab, I had to clean out the clutter."

In reality, all the junk that had been in the basement was moved to a spare storage room on the second floor by his little helper.

After answering Pepper, Eren asked Tom, "How long will it take to complete the lab?"

Tom estimated briefly and replied, "Including equipment installation, it'll take about seven days."

Seven days?

"Alright. I'll set a seven-day access permission for you. You can bring your team and start work anytime," Eren said.

After instructing Tom, Eren and Pepper left the basement.

Once outside, Eren noticed Pepper's tired expression and asked curiously, "Pepper, how do you even have the time to handle my small project? I thought you'd be swamped after Tony's announcement about shutting down Stark Industries' weapons division."

"Don't mention him," Pepper groaned, massaging her temples in frustration. "I don't even want to hear his name right now."

Pepper had hoped that bringing Tony back would help stabilize the precarious situation at Stark Industries. However, Tony had blindsided her by dropping a bombshell at the press conference, announcing the closure of the weapons division without giving her any prior notice.

Now, she was left to deal with the fallout, facing the wrath of shareholders like Obadiah, while Tony secluded himself in his mansion without a care in the world.

Pepper was utterly fed up with it all.

(End of Chapter)

Life moves on, no matter how bad it gets.

Although Pepper was thoroughly fed up with Tony's whims and recklessness, she adjusted her mood and hurried back to Stark Industries after a brief respite.

Watching her leave, Eren could only chuckle helplessly.

Before heading out, he instructed his little helper to refrain from treating the construction workers as snacks. At the same time, he asked it to monitor their every move inside the house, restricting their access to the second and third floors.

With these precautions in place, Eren greeted Tom and then took off, heading to school.

Pepper and Tom's visit had disrupted Eren's original plan of jogging in the park. Since he still had time, he decided to test out jogging to school instead.

Home, school, shooting club—a simple routine formed the backbone of Eren's life that week.

His days were filled with learning, and life felt unusually fulfilling. By the time of Midtown High's mock exams, Eren's academic performance had improved explosively, placing him in the top three of his class.

This remarkable leap in his grades caught the attention of several teachers at school.

Meanwhile, his daily shooting practice at the club resulted in terrifyingly rapid progress in marksmanship.

Strangely, the week was unusually peaceful, as if all the bad luck from the previous week had been spent.

That peace lasted until the completion of the sterile lab in his basement.

Once Tom and his construction team left the house, Eren sat on the couch, shaking his head at the pile of bugs and micro-cameras that his little helper had found hidden around the house.

The classic spy tools—bugs and cameras.

According to his helper, these devices had been installed at noon by two delivery guys bringing lunch for the construction crew.

Interestingly, just after installing the cameras, those two delivery guys had been swallowed whole by the little helper at the stairwell corner.

"Fascinating," Eren muttered, rubbing his chin.

If the devices were planted by delivery workers, it likely wasn't Tony Stark's doing. After all, with a construction team already in place, Tony wouldn't need to send delivery workers to do the job.

So, who else could it be?

SHIELD?

Or Hydra hiding within SHIELD?

After pondering for a moment, Eren decided to confirm the source of the devices by using his tools for divination.

The answer came quickly.

"Well, well… it really is you, Fury."

Eren sneered, "I helped you guys twice already, and you repay me by planting bugs in my house? Fine. I'll remember this."

With a cold snort, Eren swept all the bugs and cameras into his little helper's mouth.

Gulp.

The devices were instantly absorbed, becoming part of the helper's body. Moments later, new surveillance nodes appeared in the corners of the house, now serving as its extended eyes and ears to monitor the surroundings.

Meanwhile, in a nearby apartment not far from Chinatown.

A man in a black suit frowned, "Any news?"

Another man, wearing glasses and fiddling with a pile of equipment, adjusted his frames and replied, "None. After picking up the lunch order, the Stark Industries workers claim they never saw Agents Six and Seven again. We questioned several of them separately, and their stories align, so collusion seems unlikely."

"Hmph. No one's lying, huh? So, what? Did two grown men just vanish under our noses? The team monitoring the house didn't see Six or Seven leave."

The bespectacled man tinkered with the equipment again but found no response from the bugs and cameras installed by Six and Seven.

"If they didn't leave, isn't it possible they're still inside?"

The suited man frowned, "You're suggesting…?"

"Let's request a warrant from the Director. I suspect Six and Seven are trapped inside that house."

"Impossible. They're seasoned agents. They wouldn't be trapped just installing bugs. If they were, wouldn't they have called us for help? Besides, the Stark Industries workers spent the entire day there. If Six and Seven were really stuck, someone would've noticed something."

The bespectacled man frowned deeper, puzzled by the situation.

According to the workers, the house had no signal interference. Even in the basement, they could communicate freely with their families.

If the signal was fine, why hadn't Six and Seven called for help?
Unless they were dealt with immediately after entering.

But… could that really be possible?

Later that evening, two SHIELD agents disguised as NYPD officers arrived at Eren's house with a search warrant, ringing the doorbell.

"Hello. We've received a report from Pinocchio Catering about two employees who went missing while delivering food to your home. We need to search your premises. Please cooperate."

Looking at the two officers, Eren replied, "Wait a moment while I verify this warrant," snapping a photo and sending it to George.

The disguised SHIELD agents exchanged a brief, relieved glance.

Thankfully, they had taken the precaution of obtaining a legitimate warrant. Otherwise, things could've gone south quickly.

But before they could relax, Eren added, "By the way, let me verify your badge numbers too…"

The two disguised agents froze momentarily, clearly caught off guard.

After a tense verification process using SHIELD's virtual identity database, the agents were finally allowed into the house.

Of course, with the delivery workers already digested by the little helper, not even bones remained. The agents found no trace of their missing colleagues.

After searching the house thoroughly for over half an hour, the two frustrated agents left empty-handed.

Watching them walk away, Eren smirked, "If they'd actually found something, that'd truly be a miracle."

(End of Chapter)

"No, even if you could see ghosts, you wouldn't find those two unlucky guys."

What the little helper devoured wasn't just their flesh and blood—it consumed their souls as well.

Ghosts?
Heh.

Anyone consumed by the little helper didn't even have the chance to reincarnate, let alone linger as a spirit.

The Marvel world undeniably had ghosts and spirits, given its real dimensions of hell and the underworld.

However, most souls were naturally drawn to dimensions like Hell or the Underworld upon death, rarely lingering in the material world.

Even when they did, most ordinary people couldn't perceive spirits or ghosts due to their ethereal nature.

Thus, encounters with actual ghosts in reality were exceedingly rare—at least, Eren had never seen one himself.

"Whoosh..."

Just as Eren was about to close the door after watching the two agents leave, a sudden icy wind swept through the street in front of him.

The chill seemed to sink deep into his bones, and the temperature around him plummeted as though it had dropped dozens of degrees in an instant.

The biting cold cut through him.

"Whoosh!"

A gust of sinister wind slammed into Eren, forcing him back into the house and shutting the door with a loud bang.

At the same time, a faint, guttural growl echoed near his ears.

"What the hell?"

Sensing something was off, Eren quickly activated his Spiritual Sight.

Under the enhanced perception of his spiritual vision, Eren immediately noticed a dark mist swirling inside his house.

The mist coalesced like a translucent black cloud, rolling and twisting before taking the vague shape of a short-haired man in a black suit. His eyes emitted a smoldering black smoke.

The ghostly figure's pale, translucent limbs hung at unnatural angles as he dangled upside-down from the living room ceiling.

Thick, ink-like smoke swirled around him, accompanied by chilling wails. Within the black haze, Eren could vaguely discern countless distorted human faces writhing and screaming.

The oppressive, frigid aura of the ghost felt like countless blades slicing into Eren's skin.

Shivering involuntarily, Eren stared at the ghastly specter suspended from his ceiling, his mind racing with confusion.

"What the hell? Where did this guy come from?"

Judging by its appearance alone, Eren could tell it was a particularly malevolent ghost. The terrifying aura surrounding it was nearly tangible, capable of lethally harming living beings.

This level of malice suggested the ghost had claimed numerous lives during its mortal existence.

But why had such a powerful ghost suddenly appeared in his house?

Was it some bizarre twist of fate? He had just joked about seeing ghosts, and now here one was!

"Did my words have some kind of supernatural power?"

As Eren pondered, the ghost hanging from the ceiling took a deep "breath," inhaling deeply.

Eren's senses picked up faint remnants of malice from two recently deceased individuals in the house, transforming into thin streams of black smoke as they were drawn into the ghost's gaping mouth.

The ghost's face twisted into a euphoric expression, like an addict getting their fix.

But the pleasure was fleeting. Once the malice was consumed, the ghost's ecstasy turned into rage and frustration, its hunger unfulfilled.

Its anger surged, driving it to lash out at the only living being in the room—Eren.

"ROAR!"

The ghost's twisted face contorted further as it lunged at Eren, black smoke trailing behind it like a vengeful specter.

"Such malice…" Eren muttered, just as his little helper appeared with near-instantaneous speed.

With its maw filled with razor-sharp teeth, the little helper lunged at the ghost with unimaginable speed.

The ghost seemed instinctively terrified of the abyss-like jaws bearing down on it and tried to evade.

But before it could escape, a thunderous voice echoed, shaking its very soul:

"Wretch, look at me!"

Caught off guard, the ghost instinctively raised its head.

In that moment, it locked eyes with a gaze of cold, regal authority—a gaze that seemed to belong to a king of the underworld.

BOOM!

A freezing chill and oppressive force surged through the ghost's soul, paralyzing it.

The brief hesitation was all the little helper needed to clamp down, devouring half the ghost's translucent body in one bite.

The ghost's incorporeal form stood no chance against the little helper's voracious jaws, as its body was ripped apart and swallowed.

After consuming most of the ghost, the little helper shuddered as if savoring a delicious meal. Its greedy gaze turned toward the remaining portion of the ghost.

In the air, the ghost wailed pitifully, unaware of the imminent danger targeting its fragmented form.

Just as the little helper prepared to finish devouring the intruder, a subtle tremor rippled through the Scales of Fate hidden within Eren's soul.

An invisible shockwave dispersed the ghost's remaining consciousness, while a twisted vortex appeared in the void, swallowing the rest of its body entirely.

Ding!

[Residual traces of a fate-bound artifact detected in the spirit. Source identified as the "Loom of Fate" from this world. Host is strongly encouraged to seek out this artifact and offer it to the Scales of Fate. Doing so is expected to partially restore the Scales' functions and alleviate some of the xxx corruption.]

[Additionally, the host will unlock at least one unique function of the Scales and gain a substantial amount of Fate Points.]

(End of Chapter)

Hmm?

The moment Eren heard the message in his mind, his consciousness was pulled into the space of the Scales of Fate.

As before, upon entering, Eren quickly noticed another grayish orb of light hovering near the Scales.

With a motion of his hand, the orb floated toward him, coming to rest before him in no time.

The previous red orb was a reward for eliminating an Eldritch God's servant. What could this gray orb be?

Curious, Eren reached out and touched the gray orb.

With a soft sound, the orb merged seamlessly into his body.

Huh?
This is…

A flood of information rushed into Eren's mind. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to absorb the knowledge contained within the orb.

The gray orb held a memory—specifically, fragments of the life of the malevolent spirit that the Scales of Fate had consumed earlier.

Abel Smith, alias X, male, 46 years old. A top-tier assassin from the Brotherhood of Assassins in the dark underworld.

One day prior, this unlucky man was killed on the rooftop of a metropolitan skyscraper by a Brotherhood traitor known as "Cross."

"Wow, X. The Brotherhood, Cross… This is straight out of the plot of Wanted! X was that poor guy who got offed by Cross at the very start!"

Despite his unfortunate end, X's reputation as a top-tier assassin in the underworld was undeniable.

The deadly malice that clung to his soul after death, transforming him into a vengeful ghost in just one day, was proof enough of his lethality.

That malice stemmed from the curses of the countless souls he had slain.

Moreover, it was precisely this skill and experience that left a trace of the fate-bound artifact's aura on his soul. Ordinary assassins in the Brotherhood wouldn't have the privilege of interacting with the mystical "Loom of Fate."

Beyond fragments of X's memories, the orb also contained a skill etched deeply into his soul:

Gun-Kata.

Upon absorbing the orb, Eren's understanding and mastery of firearms shot to unimaginable heights. He even felt that he had surpassed his instructor, Old Jerry, the retired sharpshooter.

This was because the knowledge Eren inherited included an advanced firearm technique unique to the Brotherhood—something Old Jerry could never master.

Curved Ballistics.

This skill was rare even within the Brotherhood, reserved only for a select few assassins.

Of course, mastering Curved Ballistics didn't automatically make an assassin invincible. Not every practitioner was destined to be the best. After all, a gun's ultimate purpose is to kill. As long as it gets the job done, who cares if the bullet curves or not?

That said, the ability to curve bullets added a versatile and unpredictable edge to a shooter's arsenal, especially when combined with their adrenaline-boosting techniques.

It was no wonder assassins who mastered Curved Ballistics often climbed to the apex of the dark underworld.

Savoring the knowledge now etched into his mind, Eren smirked.

"This… feels pretty damn good."

With his reward from the Scales of Fate secured, Eren began strategizing how to acquire the Brotherhood's Loom of Fate.

Ordinarily, the Loom, guarded heavily within the Brotherhood's textile mill, was utterly inaccessible to outsiders. Even X, one of the Twelve Apostles of the Brotherhood, was prohibited from interacting with it directly. Only Sloan, the leader of the Brotherhood, had daily access to the artifact.

Recalling the plot of Wanted, Eren murmured, "In the original storyline, Cross's death and Wesley's awakening led to the Brotherhood's annihilation, thanks to Fox's help.

"So, could I just wait for the Brotherhood to get wiped out and then stroll in to pick up the Loom without breaking a sweat?"

Wait.

Eren paused. After crossing into this world, he had already disrupted numerous events. Could the butterfly effect have altered the original plot?

The thought of relying on others suddenly seemed unreliable.

Besides, he couldn't ignore the possibility that his interference might have already diverted the story's course.

"X just died, so we're likely still in the early stages of the story. Should I try to contact Cross?"

The idea lingered for a moment before Eren dismissed it.

As one of the world's top assassins, Cross was exceedingly dangerous. Other than his son, he had no emotional attachments.

Approaching Cross now could easily result in Eren taking a bullet to the head.

Though Eren had extraordinary abilities, Cross's skill with firearms still posed a significant threat.

Fortunately, as a Diviner, Eren didn't need direct contact to glean valuable information. By following the guidance of fate, he could gather the insights he needed without risking his life.

Additionally, there were other ways to weaken the Brotherhood aside from relying on Wesley's actions in the original storyline.

Exiting the space of the Scales of Fate, Eren found his little helper sulking, staring at the air where half the ghost had vanished.

Amused, Eren patted its head.

"Don't be upset. I'll get you something even better next time."

Though it didn't understand why its delicious "meal" had disappeared, the promise brightened the little helper's mood, prompting it to wag its tongue enthusiastically.

After amusing the little helper for a bit, Eren hailed a cab and left Chinatown.

Before taking on the Brotherhood, he planned to familiarize himself with his newly acquired skills.

Twenty minutes later, Eren arrived at Tom's Shooting Club.

Guided by a staff member to a moving target range, he picked up a handgun from an empty slot and began shooting at a target 10 meters away.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

(End of Chapter)

The thunderous roar of gunfire echoed relentlessly through the underground shooting range.

As the rounds continued to fly, Eren rapidly assimilated the firearm techniques he had inherited from X's memories.

10-meter targets…
20-meter targets…
30-meter targets…
Finally, 50-meter moving targets…

No matter the distance or speed of the target, Eren's bullets always struck the bullseye at seemingly impossible angles.

What's more, his speed in raising his weapon and reloading grew visibly faster with each round.

If not for the higher cost of the 50-meter range, which kept it relatively empty most of the time, Eren's astonishing accuracy and speed would have drawn an audience of shocked onlookers.

Even now, the two muscle-bound men training on the range were starting to eye him with a mix of curiosity and awe.

Fortunately, Old Jerry had already clocked out for the day. If he were here to witness Eren's progress, his jaw would undoubtedly hit the floor.

"Phew…"

After emptying another magazine, Eren's arm began to cramp from the intense strain. Yet, despite the spasms, a satisfied smile spread across his face.

The session had allowed him to fully absorb X's firearm expertise, transforming it into his own.

While the advanced technique of adrenaline-induced reflexes required a unique innate talent that Eren lacked, he wasn't too concerned.

After all, adrenaline could be artificially induced. With his current mastery of self-hypnosis, Eren could easily stimulate his body to produce adrenaline, forcefully entering that heightened state.

Placing the handgun back on the bench, Eren noticed the increasingly fervent gazes of the two muscle-bound men nearby. Their eyes burned with admiration, as if they wanted to absorb his skills into their very being.

The intensity of their stares sent a shiver down Eren's spine.

Though he overheard snippets of their conversation through his headphones—apparently, they just wanted tips to improve their shooting—Eren wasn't taking any chances.

He quickly fled the range, skipping even the post-session arm massage from the club's staff.

Without a backward glance, he paid his bill and left the moving target range in a hurry.

A few minutes later.

Standing outside Tom's Shooting Club, Eren let out a sigh of relief. Glancing back at the club's neon-lit sign, he made a silent decision.

"I'd better avoid this place for a while. If anyone familiar sees me, I won't be able to explain how my shooting skills improved so drastically in such a short time."

"Besides, with my current proficiency, there's not much more Old Jerry can teach me. Skipping the club won't hinder my progress."

Instead of heading home, Eren stopped by a cosplay shop on the way and purchased a set of vintage fortune-teller attire and a few props for divination games.

By now, enough time had passed since he consumed the Seer's potion. With a wealth of divination techniques under his belt and most of the potion's effects assimilated, Eren could confidently call himself a true Seer.

What he lacked now was complete digestion of the potion, the final step before advancing to the "Clown" stage. Advancing would give him greater leverage in obtaining the Brotherhood's Loom of Fate.

To accelerate the digestion process, Eren decided to embrace the role of a Seer more fully.

In a multicultural city like New York, posing as a Seer was relatively easy.

Eren planned to roam the city's streets and crowded areas in his fortune-teller guise, offering readings to those who crossed his path.

Over the next few days, whispers spread through New York's night scene about a wandering fortune-teller with uncanny accuracy.

According to rumors, if you were lucky enough to encounter a strangely dressed fortune-teller at night, you could pay a single dollar for a reading on any topic—career, luck, love, family, or even lost pets.

The mysterious Seer never turned anyone away.

To everyone's astonishment, every prediction came true with startling accuracy.

The low price of one dollar and the consistent success of the readings quickly turned the wandering Seer into a citywide phenomenon.

Some even filmed their encounters with the mysterious figure, sharing their stories online.

The video that truly catapulted the Seer to fame came from a YouTube blogger.

In the video, the blogger detailed how the Seer's guidance led them to uncover a treasure worth over a million dollars using a family heirloom map.

The discovery made headlines, drawing the attention of local authorities and lending credibility to the story.

As the video went viral, Eren's fortune-teller persona became a household name.

Countless people roamed New York's streets at night, hoping to meet the mysterious Seer and strike it rich.

Even well-dressed professionals and socialites joined the search, some women dressing extravagantly in hopes of catching the Seer's attention for a memorable encounter to boast about later.

But just as quickly as he had appeared, the Seer vanished without a trace, leaving his admirers to wonder if they'd ever encounter him again.

(End of Chapter)

The internet buzzed with speculation about the mysterious wandering fortune-teller who had suddenly vanished. Theories ran wild.

Some claimed he had been invited by a powerful corporation or wealthy magnate, becoming a valued guest and leaving his street days behind.

Others whispered he had angered a crime syndicate and fled New York in disgrace.

A few even joked that he'd met too many beautiful women, overexerted himself, and perished in a lover's bed.

But the most common belief was that the enigmatic Seer had simply moved on, continuing his travels to the next city, leaving behind only rumors and intrigue.

What no one knew was that the Seer in question was currently sitting in a house in Chinatown, his eyes closed in deep reflection.

Moments ago, after gaining the belief and recognition of tens of thousands—possibly hundreds of thousands—of people online, Eren had entered a peculiar state.

It felt as if he had pierced an illusory bubble, shattering it with a faint popping sound.

At that very instant, he sensed something within him dissolve completely, merging seamlessly with his mind and spirit.

Eren didn't need anyone to tell him—he instinctively understood that this marked the complete digestion of the Seer potion.

For a long time, Eren lay quietly on the sofa, savoring the rare clarity of this experience.

Finally, he opened his eyes and exhaled.

"So, the Seer potion is fully digested now?"

"Strictly speaking, it's only been about two weeks since I consumed the potion. Even for a Sequence Nine potion, digesting it this quickly is quite impressive."

"Of course, compared to those freakishly talented individuals in Lord of Mysteries who were practically born with demigod or angel characteristics, I still fall short. But I did manage to beat Klein's digestion time for the Seer potion."

Eren chuckled at the thought, though he knew better than to let it go to his head.

His rapid progress wasn't due to superior aptitude but rather a combination of foreknowledge, strategic role-playing as a Seer, and the modern world's ability to spread information quickly.

By leveraging these advantages—along with props and his knowledge of certain key events—Eren had successfully played the role of a Seer before figures like Coulson and Tony Stark, digesting a significant portion of the potion.

The final push came through his widely publicized fortune-telling and the viral video, cementing his image as a mystical Seer in the minds of thousands and allowing him to digest the last remnants of the potion.

Interestingly, Eren's success wasn't entirely coincidental.

The viral YouTube video, for instance, had been part of his plan. By predicting the discovery of a treasure during a fortune-telling session and subtly orchestrating the event, Eren ensured that the blogger's encounter with him would culminate in uncovering the fortune.

The result was a win-win situation: the blogger became rich, and Eren solidified his reputation as a Seer, completing his potion digestion in the process.

Yet the deeper mechanics of fate left Eren pondering:
Had his fortune-telling led to the discovery of the treasure? Or had the treasure's discovery created the conditions for his fortune-telling?

Either way, both parties had benefited immensely.

Just as Eren was musing over his recent success, his phone buzzed with a notification.

Glancing at the screen, he saw a photo from Gwen.

The image was unmistakably of him—disguised as the wandering Seer, performing a fortune-telling.

Beneath the photo, Gwen had written:
"I think I've uncovered someone's little secret?"

Amused, Eren quickly replied:
"Oh really? Looks like I'll have to silence you, then!"

He added a playful "evil overlord" emoji to the message before sending it.

Moments later, he followed up with another text:
"How'd you figure it out? I thought my disguise was pretty solid."

On the other end, Gwen hesitated, typing and deleting several times before settling on a reply.

Her first instinct was to type "your body," but she quickly realized how that could be misinterpreted and erased the words.

Instead, she sent:
"You mentioned being a Seer before. Plus, your build and some intuition gave you away."

Eren read the message, nodding at the first two points. But "intuition"?
"Are women's instincts always this accurate?" he muttered, bemused.

After chatting for a while, their conversation naturally shifted to an earlier promise Eren had made—to use his divination to help find a way to heal Helen's scars.

As the topic came up, Eren decided to press forward.
"How's Helen doing? Would she like me to do a reading for her now?"

(End of Chapter)

On the other end of the phone, Gwen's mind flashed to memories of Helen often staring blankly at her legs in a daze after the surgery.

She hesitated for less than a second before replying, "Tomorrow. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I'll have time during the day."

"Tomorrow works. I'll come by your place," Eren offered.

"No need, I'll come to you," Gwen insisted. Since she was asking for Eren's help, she wouldn't take advantage of him by having him come over.

After agreeing on a time for the divination, they ended the call.

After chatting with Gwen, Eren found that the joy from fully digesting the Seer potion had begun to settle.

Seizing the moment, he decided to enter the space of the Scales of Fate and retrieve the vial of "Clown" potion he had previously drawn.

Holding the potion in his hand, Eren didn't immediately drink it.

Instead, he took out his divination coin—an item imbued with spirituality from frequent use—and prepared to perform a divination to ensure the success of his advancement.

The coin's simplicity made it perfect for "yes" or "no" questions, and for this purpose, it was more than sufficient.

Focusing his spirituality, Eren closed his eyes halfway and murmured:
"Will my advancement succeed?"
"Will my advancement succeed?"
He repeated the question seven times before flipping the coin into the air.

Opening his eyes, he saw the coin land in his palm, face-up.

A positive result.

This affirmation brought Eren a sense of relief. While he had confidence in his preparation, having the divination confirm his success felt like a good omen.

After pocketing the coin, Eren turned his attention back to the vial of "Clown" potion.

Removing the stopper, he raised the vial to his lips and tipped it back, swallowing the liquid in one gulp.

Immediately, an intense bitterness overwhelmed his senses, far surpassing anything he had ever tasted. It felt like swallowing a concentrated extract of raw herbs, leaving his tongue numb and his voice strained.

"This is so much worse than the Seer potion!" he thought bitterly.

A wave of heat surged through his face and body, making his skin flush a bright red. He felt as though he were a lobster being boiled alive.

Meanwhile, his consciousness seemed to detach, fragmenting into countless threads that intertwined with the potion as it coursed through his body.

Though Eren had not yet reached a level where he could fully perceive his inner self, he found himself vividly observing the potion's essence merging into every cell of his being.

It felt as though his body was being meticulously restructured by an impossibly precise instrument.

Time passed in a blur.

In the depths of his consciousness, Eren saw a reflection of himself—a distorted yet fascinating image.

Through this surreal projection, he realized he now had near-perfect control over his facial expressions and body movements, as if his very being had become a malleable canvas.

Then came the whispers.

An unsettling cacophony of ethereal murmurs and frenzied screams filled his ears:
"Corruption… Break the veil… Fall… Death… Ascend…"

The indescribable pollution and madness emanating from the voices seemed to claw at his psyche, urging him toward ruin.

However, as the advancement process neared its conclusion, the whispers began to fade, their influence weakening.

With immense effort, Eren suppressed the lingering spiritual overflow and brought his newfound abilities under control.

When he finally stabilized his spirit, he knew without a doubt—he had succeeded.

Eren was now a Sequence 8 "Clown."

Opening his eyes, Eren noticed the world around him seemed sharper and more vivid, as though a veil had been lifted.

"This… feels incredible," he murmured.

Clenching his fist, he marveled at the explosive strength now coursing through his muscles.

"Oddball, sandbag!"

At his command, a ripple spread across the ceiling as if the air itself were water. Moments later, a worn training sandbag dropped from a hidden storage space, hanging neatly before him.

With a sharp crack, Eren delivered a full-force punch, the sound of his strike splitting the air like a whip. The impact sent the sandbag flying, nearly ripping it from its chain.

The raw power of his punch exceeded his expectations.

Unlike the Seer potion, which had only slightly enhanced his physical capabilities, the Clown potion had drastically improved his strength, agility, and coordination.

As the sandbag swung back toward him, Eren twisted his torso and delivered a spinning kick.

Boom!

The kick connected with a thunderous explosion, tearing the aged sandbag apart and scattering its contents across the room.

To Eren's surprise, the sand and debris didn't stay scattered for long.

As he watched, the grains of sand sank into the floorboards, furniture, and walls, which seemed to absorb them like a sponge. Moments later, the sandbag reformed itself, whole and intact, as though it had never been damaged.

This miraculous repair was one of Oddball's abilities—it could consume energy to restore any object within the house that it had assimilated.

But Eren's focus remained on his body.

Through a series of experiments, he confirmed that his strength, agility, and reflexes had all undergone significant enhancement.

Most impressive was his newfound balance and coordination.

Under normal circumstances, Eren realized he would never lose his footing again. Even if he were to fall down a flight of stairs, his body would instinctively realign itself, twisting midair to land safely.

"This is… incredible," he muttered, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

(End of Chapter)

"Truly worthy of being called a jester! This ability is simply perfect for performing tricks on stage," Eren thought, marveling at his new powers.

The extraordinary coordination and control over his body not only allowed him to maintain balance even in the most unpredictable situations but also made him exceptionally adept at learning physical skills. Whether it was martial arts or combat techniques, his newfound talent vastly accelerated his progress.

What might take an ordinary person a year—or even several years—to master could be achieved by Eren in just a month, or perhaps even two or three weeks. This was the stark difference between the extraordinary and the mundane.

The innate talents bestowed upon him through his ascension had elevated Eren beyond the limits of ordinary humans. With such a powerful physical gift, he couldn't help but contemplate learning some advanced combat techniques. Leaving this talent untapped would be a waste.

After completing the tests on his physical changes, Eren picked up a brand-new deck of cards that had been sitting on the table. With a flick of his wrist, he infused a card with his spirituality and threw it.

Whizz!

The soft card shot out like a knife and embedded itself precisely in the red brick wall he had been aiming at. Only one-third of the card remained visible outside the wall.

Looking at the card lodged deeply into the bricks, Eren couldn't help but smile with satisfaction.

With spiritual energy infused, even the sturdier-than-average bricks of this wall were no match for the card, which cut two-thirds into it. On a living target, the card would undoubtedly pierce through flesh and organs, inflicting fatal damage.

What made this ability even more remarkable was its versatility. It required no special materials; any paper in daily life could achieve similar effects. The only difference was the degree of power.

This ability turned ordinary paper—found everywhere—into lethal weapons in Eren's hands, significantly enriching his arsenal of combat techniques.

This transformation also marked a turning point for Eren. Having ascended as a Jester, he transitioned from being a semi-supportive extraordinary to someone capable of direct, overwhelming combat.

Moreover, coupled with the top-tier shooting skills inherited from "Mr. X" and the mind-affecting sorcery Disheartened Stare, Eren's strength after becoming a Jester had soared to unprecedented heights. His combat capabilities were now formidable.

"Finally... my chances of obtaining the 'Fate Loom' from the textile factory have greatly improved," Eren thought with satisfaction, exhaling deeply.

After testing his new powers, he took a relaxing bath and began meditating on his bed.

Following his ascension, his spiritual energy had surged explosively. Although he had managed to stabilize it somewhat, controlling the sudden influx of power remained challenging. Seizing the quiet of the night, Eren planned to meditate and gain better mastery over his spiritual energy.

While Eren was meditating after his ascension, elsewhere...

...

In Tony Stark's expansive private villa, a highly advanced Iron Man suit was slowly taking shape.

Since his abduction in Afghanistan, Stark had been consumed by a sense of insecurity. Determined to protect himself, he had poured all his energy into refining the inspiration he had gained in that cave. He was building a suit of armor that could envelop him entirely, safeguarding his life.

Now, from the steadily forming humanoid structure of metallic components, it was evident that Stark's armor was nearly complete.

Soon, the Iron Man, the harbinger of the Marvel Universe's age of the extraordinary, would emerge—heralding the beginning of an era of unimaginable change.

Unbeknownst to Eren, the moment he consumed the Jester Potion and ascended, the Scales of Fate hidden deep within his soul trembled.

In that imperceptible vibration, faint black streams of energy and scattered dark specks dislodged from the scale's base and fell into the boundless River of Fate below.

As the river rippled with their entry, the black streams and specks quickly vanished into its vastness.

In the depths of the Atlantic Ocean, a minuscule black speck emerged from the void and landed on a giant squid that was preying on a sperm whale.

The speck, smaller than a sesame seed, seemed utterly inconsequential against the squid's massive body. Yet, the moment it touched the creature, it began spreading like ink in water, rapidly polluting the squid's entire form.

In mere moments, the giant squid underwent horrifying mutations. Its body expanded at an alarming rate, with grotesque tumors appearing all over its surface. These tumors transformed into writhing black tentacles, emanating a sinister aura with black mist and glowing red spots flowing between them.

Nearby, the sperm whale sensed something amiss and turned to look, only to witness an unspeakable monstrosity in the dark depths.

A piercing cry echoed through the ocean, spreading far and wide.

Meanwhile, a slightly larger black speck drifted upstream through the River of Fate, piercing through the boundary between reality and illusion.

After exhausting most of its energy, it eventually fell into a specific region of the sea, landing on a giant cruise ship in motion.

While the black specks struggled within the River of Fate, the faint black streams drifted passively, scattering into various corners of the world under destiny's guidance.

(End of Chapter)

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