Most powerful Hunter in Marvel Universe - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Visible Invisible

Consciousness returned like a slow-motion car crash—inevitable, painful, and accompanied by regrets about choices made the previous night. Tony’s brain felt like it was trying to escape his skull through his eye sockets, each heartbeat a fresh reminder that cheap beer and cheaper hot dogs were not meant for billionaire digestive systems.

He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against light that felt personally aggressive, and tried to remember where he was.

Not his bedroom. Definitely not his bedroom. The ceiling was water-stained popcorn texture instead of custom Italian plaster. The furniture was from whatever decade had the worst taste. And he was on a sofa that felt like it had been stuffed with regret and broken dreams.

Oh. Right. Veer’s hotel room.

Memory filtered back in fragments: the underground fight club, the terrible music, the even worse beer, punching that guy in the face and somehow winning. The crowd cheering. More drinks. Talking about nothing important for hours because nothing important was exactly what he’d needed.

Tony sat up slowly, each movement requiring negotiation with his protesting body. He was still wearing the torn hoodie and gas station sunglasses, though the latter had migrated to somewhere around his neck during sleep. His mouth tasted like something had died in it, and his hand—the one he’d used to punch people—was definitely swollen.

Worth it, though. Totally worth it.

He looked around the room, orienting himself. Morning light filtered through the curtains, suggesting it was maybe eight or nine AM. The bed was empty but recently used, covers thrown back carelessly. The bathroom door was open, showing no one inside.

Which left—

Tony’s gaze found Veer sitting by the window in a position that looked deeply uncomfortable but which the younger man maintained with perfect stillness. Cross-legged, back straight, hands resting on his knees in some kind of meditative pose. His eyes were closed, his breathing so slow and measured it looked deliberate.

Meditation. Of course. The guy who killed three hundred people without breaking a sweat probably had some kind of zen routine to keep himself balanced. Or maybe to keep from becoming a complete psychopath. Hard to tell.

Tony was about to look away, to find water and possibly throw up in that order, when he noticed something odd.

There was something around Veer. Not physically visible in the normal sense, but… there. Like heat shimmer on summer asphalt, like the distortion around a candle flame, except it had a faint luminescence that definitely shouldn’t be there. It wrapped around Veer’s body like a second skin, maybe an inch thick, pulsing gently in rhythm with his breathing.

Tony blinked hard, rubbed his eyes, looked again. Still there. The shimmer-that-wasn’t-quite-shimmer, the light-that-wasn’t-quite-light, surrounding Veer like some kind of personal force field.

“What the hell,” Tony muttered, his engineer’s brain immediately trying to catalog what he was seeing. Energy field? Some kind of projection? A hallucination from the hangover?

But no. His head hurt, sure, but his vision was clear. This was real. Somehow, impossibly, he was seeing something that looked like special effects from a sci-fi movie, except it was happening in a cheap hotel room and there were no cameras or CGI involved.

Veer had superpowers. Tony had known that—you don’t tear through metal doors and kill hundreds of trained fighters without something beyond normal human capability. But seeing evidence of it, actually witnessing the mechanism behind the impossible feats, was different.

This was proof. Visible, measurable proof that the world contained things beyond conventional physics.

And Tony Stark, genius engineer who’d built weapons systems that redefined modern warfare, was fascinated.

He watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt whatever Veer was doing, as the shimmer around the younger man’s body shifted. It was subtle at first—a slight fluctuation in intensity, a change in the way it caught the light. Then it began to compress, drawing inward like a living thing responding to some unspoken command.

The process was mesmerizing. The energy field—because Tony’s brain had decided that’s what it had to be—condensed tighter against Veer’s skin, becoming more concentrated, more dense. It went from a soft glow to something harder, more defined, like the difference between diffuse light and a laser beam.

Tony found himself leaning forward without realizing it, his hangover temporarily forgotten in favor of scientific curiosity. This was revolutionary. This was proof that human bodies could generate and manipulate energy fields in ways that conventional science said were impossible. This was—

Veer’s eyes opened.

## From Veer’s Perspective

The notification appeared in Veer’s consciousness like a gentle chime, announcing what he’d been working toward for the past week.

[Skill Level Up: Ten Lv2 → Lv3]

[New Passive Ability Unlocked: Ten can now remain active during sleep]

[Note: Passive experience gain reduced to 50% efficiency]

[Estimated time to Lv4 at passive rate: 3,847 days]

Veer opened his eyes and immediately noticed Tony staring at him with an intensity that was mildly concerning. The billionaire was sitting up on the sofa, his hair doing things that expensive stylists would charge extra to recreate, looking like he’d just witnessed either a miracle or a particularly interesting car accident.

“Good morning to you too,” Veer said, shifting out of his meditation posture. His legs had gone slightly numb from sitting still for the past two hours. “Enjoying the view?”

“I—” Tony started, then seemed to struggle with how to phrase whatever he wanted to say. “There was—you had—” He gestured vaguely at Veer’s general existence. “What the hell was that?”

Veer’s mind raced. What had Tony seen? The Ten technique was supposed to be invisible to normal people, perceptible only to other Nen users or those who’d awakened their aura nodes. But Tony was definitely not a Nen user, and unless something very strange had happened overnight, he hadn’t undergone any kind of aura awakening.

Which meant Tony had enough natural talent to perceive aura without training. That was rare. Very rare. In the Hunter x Hunter world, maybe one person in ten thousand had that level of innate sensitivity.

But then again, Tony Stark wasn’t exactly a normal person. His brain worked on frequencies most people couldn’t reach. Maybe that extended to perceiving things that shouldn’t be perceptible.

Before Veer could formulate a response, Tony spoke again, his words tumbling out in the rapid-fire way that suggested his mind was processing at maximum speed.

“There was energy around you. Like a field. I could see it. Glowing, kind of. And then it compressed, got tighter, more concentrated. What is that? Some kind of bioelectric field? Controlled electromagnetic projection? Quantum entanglement manifestation?”

Veer stood up, stretching muscles that had been still for too long, buying himself a few seconds to think. Tony had seen his Ten. That was problematic but not catastrophic. The question was how much to reveal and how much to deflect.

He decided on a strategy somewhere between truth and misdirection.

“It’s called—” Veer started, then paused dramatically. “Actually, first, I need to make something very clear.”

He took an exaggerated step backward, putting distance between himself and Tony, his expression shifting to mock alarm. “I have no interest in homosexual relationships. None. Zero. So if this intense staring is going somewhere romantic, I’m going to need you to redirect those feelings toward literally anyone else.”

Tony’s face went through several expressions in rapid succession: confusion, understanding, outrage, and finally amusement. “What? No! Jesus Christ, I’m not—I don’t—I’m very straight, thank you very much. Aggressively straight. Ask any supermodel from the past decade.”

“Just making sure. You were staring pretty hard. Thought I should establish boundaries.”

“I was staring because you were glowing like a human nightlight, not because of your sparkling personality.” Tony stood up, swaying slightly, grabbing the sofa arm for balance. “Now stop deflecting and explain what that was.”

Veer moved to the mini-fridge, pulling out two bottles of water and tossing one to Tony. “That ‘glow’ you saw is called aura. Or life force, if you want to be poetic about it. It’s energy generated by living beings. Everyone has it, but most people can’t perceive it or control it.”

“Life force.” Tony opened the water bottle and drank half of it in one go. “You’re telling me I just witnessed literal life force. The thing that mystics and spiritualists talk about but science says is bullshit.”

“Science says it’s bullshit because science hasn’t figured out how to measure it yet,” Veer corrected. “Doesn’t make it less real. Just makes it less understood.”

Tony was silent for a moment, his engineer’s brain clearly working to fit this new information into his worldview. “And you can control it. The compression I saw—that was deliberate manipulation of this aura.”

“Correct. The technique is called Ten. It’s a basic defensive application that wraps your aura around your body to protect against physical and supernatural attacks. I was refining the density, which increases its effectiveness.”

“Supernatural attacks,” Tony repeated flatly. “This conversation has gotten weird fast. Even by yesterday’s standards, and yesterday involved me punching strangers in an illegal basement fight club.”

Veer couldn’t help but smile. “Welcome to the weird side of reality. It’s been here the whole time. You just couldn’t see it until now.”

“So what, I have aura too? Everyone does?” Tony looked down at his hands like he expected to see them glowing. “Why can’t I see my own?”

“You probably do, but perceiving your own aura without training is nearly impossible. And the fact that you could see mine…” Veer paused, considering how much to reveal. “That’s actually impressive. Most people can’t perceive aura at all, even with another person right in front of them demonstrating it. You’d need specialized training or exceptional innate talent.”

Tony’s expression shifted to something more speculative. “Talent. So this is something that can be developed, not just a biological fluke you were born with.”

“It can be learned,” Veer confirmed carefully. “But it’s difficult. Extremely difficult. Most people who try never get past the basics, and the basics alone can take months or years to master.”

He could see the gears turning in Tony’s head, see the moment when the billionaire genius connected dots and arrived at a conclusion that Veer had been trying to avoid.

“This is what makes you superhuman,” Tony said slowly. “The strength, the speed, the durability. You’re not some kind of mutant or science experiment. You’re manipulating this life force to enhance your physical capabilities.”

“Partly,” Veer admitted. “The aura provides a foundation, but there are specific techniques for applying it. What you saw was just the most basic defensive application. There are dozens of others, each with different effects and purposes.”

“And this is how you stay young longer? You mentioned that could extend your lifespan.”

“Ten, specifically, slows cellular degradation. Your body ages because cells break down over time. Wrapping yourself in a protective field of life energy reduces that breakdown. I could potentially live for a thousand years, maybe more, if I master the advanced techniques.”

Tony sat back down on the sofa, water bottle forgotten in his hand, staring at nothing while his brain processed implications. “A thousand years. You’re telling me humanity has had access to functional immortality this whole time, and it’s just been hidden in mystical traditions that science dismissed.”

“Not immortality,” Veer corrected. “Extended longevity. I can still die from violence, disease, or accidents. I just won’t die from old age anytime soon.”

“Still. This is…” Tony trailed off, searching for words. “This is bigger than arc reactor technology. This is bigger than most of my weapons systems. This is fundamental biology and physics being rewritten.”

Veer watched Tony’s face, seeing the moment when desire warred with social convention. The billionaire wanted to ask—desperately wanted to ask—if Veer could teach him this ability. But asking meant acknowledging that there was something Tony Stark couldn’t figure out on his own. It meant admitting he needed help.

And more than that, it meant asking for something deeply personal. Superpowers, abilities, techniques that extended life—these weren’t things people shared casually. They were guarded secrets, passed down carefully or hoarded jealously. Asking to learn was like asking for someone’s DNA, their most intimate biological secrets.

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. Finally: “Can this be learned by someone who’s not… I mean, if someone didn’t have the natural talent you mentioned, could they still…”

He couldn’t finish the question, and Veer felt an unexpected sympathy. For all his confidence and genius, Tony Stark was still human. Still limited by the same social conventions and fears of rejection that everyone else dealt with.

“You’re asking if you specifically could learn this,” Veer said, deciding to be direct.

Tony met his eyes. “Yes.”

Veer considered the question seriously. In the Hunter x Hunter world, anyone could theoretically learn Nen if properly taught. The awakening process was standardized, if dangerous. But this wasn’t the Hunter x Hunter world. This was the MCU, where the rules might be different, where forcing an awakening might have unforeseen consequences.

And beyond the practical considerations was the philosophical one: should he teach Tony Stark, genius billionaire who would become Iron Man, how to manipulate life force? Would that help or hurt the timeline? Would it make Tony stronger for the battles to come, or would it introduce complications that derailed everything?

“You already have enough talent to perceive aura without training,” Veer said slowly. “That’s a good sign. But perceiving and manipulating are different things. The training process is… difficult. Painful. And there’s no guarantee of success even with ideal conditions.”

“But possible?” Tony pressed. “It’s possible for me to learn this?”

“Possible, yes. Probable?” Veer shrugged. “That depends on a lot of factors. Your dedication, your natural affinity, your willingness to completely overturn your understanding of reality. And…” He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “Your reasons for wanting it.”

“My reasons?”

“Why do you want to learn this, Tony? Is it curiosity? The desire to understand something new? Or is it something else?”

Tony was quiet for a long moment, and Veer could see him wrestling with honesty. Finally: “I spent two months in a cave, completely helpless, dependent on terrorists who could have killed me at any moment. I built weapons my entire life, and they were used to make me a victim. And then you showed up and saved me, and you did it because you have abilities I can’t match with any amount of engineering.”

He stood up, pacing the small room with restless energy. “I don’t want to be helpless again. I don’t want to depend on someone else swooping in to save me. I want…” He gestured frustratedly. “I want to be able to protect myself. To protect the people I care about. And if that means learning mystical life force manipulation or whatever you want to call it, then yes, I want to learn it.”

It was honest. Raw. The kind of vulnerability that Tony Stark probably didn’t show often. And it was exactly the kind of motivation that could drive someone to master Nen—fear transformed into determination, trauma channeled into power.

But it was also the kind of motivation that could lead someone down dark paths. The desire to never be helpless again had driven countless people to become exactly the kind of threats they’d feared.

“If I agreed to teach you,” Veer said carefully, “and that’s a big if, you need to understand something. This power—aura manipulation, life force control, whatever you want to call it—it’s not like building a machine. You can’t engineer it. You can’t shortcut it with genius and resources. It requires discipline, patience, and accepting that there are no instant solutions.”

“I can do discipline and patience,” Tony said, though his tone suggested even he didn’t entirely believe that.

“Can you? Because the first stage of training alone could take months. Months of meditation, of exercises that feel pointless, of progress so slow you’ll think you’re wasting your time. And that’s assuming you have the talent to progress at all.” Veer leaned against the wall, studying Tony’s face. “Are you really willing to put in that kind of work for something that might not pay off?”

Tony met his gaze steadily. “I spent two months in a cave building a miniaturized arc reactor and a suit of armor with parts scavenged from my own weapons. I think I can handle meditation and slow progress.”

Fair point. Tony Stark’s determination, when properly focused, was legendary. If he decided he wanted to master aura manipulation, he’d throw himself at it with the same intensity he applied to everything else.

The question was whether Veer should encourage that.

He pulled up his system interface, checking his status one more time.

—

[Template: Zeno Zoldyck]

[Synchronization: 53.7%]

Aura: Lv37

Power: 43 (Physical Strength Equivalent: ~21.5 Tons)

Affinity: Emitter

Abilities: Electric Resistance Lv3, Poison Resistance Lv3, Healing Factor Lv1

Skills: Assassin Mode Lv1 (0%), Snake Awaken Lv1 (0%), Silent Gait Lv2 (16%), Rhythm Echo Lv1 (0%), Claw Lv2(16%)

Nen Techniques: Ten Lv3(0%), Zetsu Lv2(2%), Ren Lv1(0%), Gyo Lv1(0%), In Lv1(0%), En Lv1(0%), Shu Lv1(0%), Ko Lv1(0%), Ken Lv1(0%), Ryu Lv1(0%)

Hatsu: Dragon Lv1(0%)

—

His Ten had reached level three, which meant he could maintain it even while sleeping. Passive experience gain, though slower, would continue accumulating. The system estimated nearly four thousand days to reach level four through passive means alone—over ten years of constant, automatic training.

That was the reality of mastering these techniques. Slow, grinding progress measured in years and decades. Tony might have the talent and the determination, but did he have the patience?

And more importantly, did Veer have the right to make this decision? Teaching Tony Stark aura manipulation could change everything. It could make him stronger for the battles ahead, or it could create complications that derailed the timeline entirely.

“I need to think about this,” Veer said finally. “This isn’t something I can decide on a whim. Teaching someone aura manipulation is a serious responsibility. If I do it wrong, I could permanently damage your ability to generate aura. If I do it right but you’re not ready, you could hurt yourself or others.”

Tony looked like he wanted to argue, to push for an immediate answer, but he managed to restrain himself. “How long do you need to think about it?”

“I don’t know. Days, maybe. Weeks.” Veer shrugged. “I’m supposed to be retiring, remember? Flying somewhere tropical and watching beautiful women on beaches. Teaching a billionaire genius how to manipulate life force wasn’t in my retirement plans.”

“I could make it worth your while,” Tony offered. “Financially, I mean. Or access to my workshops, my technology, whatever you need.”

“I already have more money than I know what to do with, and I’m not much of an engineer.” Veer smiled slightly. “If I agree to this, it won’t be because you paid me. It’ll be because I think you can handle it and because I think the world might need you to be stronger than you currently are.”

“The world?” Tony’s eyebrows rose. “That’s ominous. You know something I don’t?”

“I know lots of things you don’t,” Veer said, which was both true and completely unhelpful. “But that’s a conversation for another time. Right now, you need a shower, actual food, and probably medical attention for that hand you punched people with.”

Tony looked down at his swollen knuckles like he’d forgotten about them. “Right. Yeah. Punching people. That happened.” He grabbed his phone from where it had fallen next to the sofa. “Pepper’s probably sent approximately one million worried texts by now.”

“You should answer her before she assumes you’ve been kidnapped again.”

“Funny.” But Tony was already typing, his thumbs moving across the screen with practiced speed. Then he looked up, his expression serious despite the hangover and the torn hoodie. “Thank you. For last night. For… just being a person I could exist around without all the other bullshit.”

“You’re welcome,” Veer said. “Thanks for punching strangers in a basement for territorial bar space. That was weirdly therapeutic to watch.”

“Right?” Tony grinned. “I should do that more often. Really gets the blood flowing. Though maybe with less cheap beer next time.”

“Definitely less cheap beer.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, two people from completely different worlds who’d somehow found common ground in the chaos. Then Tony gathered his things—what little he had—and prepared to return to his actual life of board meetings and press conferences and trying to save the world through engineering.

At the door, he paused. “Think about it? The teaching thing?”

“I will,” Veer promised. “I’ll think about it.”

Tony nodded and left, and Veer was alone in his cheap hotel room with a decision that could change everything.

He looked out the window at Los Angeles sprawling below, thinking about Tony Stark with aura manipulation, thinking about how that might change the coming battles, thinking about whether he was making things better or worse by even considering it.

The future was uncertain, the timeline already altered, and every choice carried weight he couldn’t fully calculate.

But then again, that had been true since the moment he’d arrived in this world.

All he could do was make the best decisions he could with the information he had and hope the universe would forgive him if he got it wrong.

He activated his Ten again, feeling the protective aura wrap around him, and began planning for whatever came next.

One way or another, the world was about to get more complicated.

He just hoped it would also get more survivable.