Ninja of Marvel World - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Vertigo of Growth

The heavy meal of chicken, eggs, and spinach sat in Karan’s stomach like a lead weight, but it was a necessary burden. His body was a furnace, and the fire needed fuel.

He stood in the center of his small bedroom, listening to the silence of the apartment. Chloe had left for her shift hours ago, leaving behind the faint scent of cheap hairspray and the lingering energy of her chaotic life.

Karan checked his watch. 8:00 PM.

The city outside was alive—sirens wailing in the distance, the low rumble of traffic on the expressway, the shout of a neighbor down the hall. But inside Karan’s mind, there was only the objective.

[Daily Quest: The Road of Youth]
Running: 0/30km

Yesterday, he had cheated. He had used rollerblades to trick the System, exploiting the lack of GPS precision or biomechanical feedback. It had been clever, a desperate move by a weak body.

Today, he felt different.

“No skates,” Karan whispered to himself. “Today, we run.”

He tied the laces of his worn-out sneakers, double-knotting them. He grabbed a bottle of water and stepped out into the cool night air of Queens.

The streetlights cast long, orange shadows across the pavement. He jogged toward the nearby park—a small patch of greenery that was mostly dirt paths and rusted swing sets, but it had a perimeter track.

He started slow.

Left foot. Right foot. Breathe in. Breathe out.

The first kilometer was easy. His legs, bolstered by the Level 15 stats and the passive chakra reinforcement, felt light. He wasn’t the wheezing asthmatic he had been two days ago.

The fifth kilometer was harder. The meal in his stomach sloshed uncomfortably.

The tenth kilometer was a grind.

But Karan didn’t stop. He found a rhythm, a trance-like state where the world narrowed down to the patch of illuminated concrete three feet in front of him.

He focused on the energy inside him. The chakra. It was sluggish, responding to his physical exertion. As his muscles tired, he instinctively pulled on that energy, letting it flow into his calves and thighs. It was like injecting adrenaline directly into the muscle fibers.

People passed him—dog walkers, other joggers, teenagers smoking on benches. They saw a skinny Indian kid sweating profusely, his face set in a grimace of determination. They didn’t see the internal alchemy taking place.

Twenty kilometers.

His lungs burned, but it was a good burn. It was the feeling of capacity expanding. The Jugo bloodline was singing in his veins, drinking in the oxygen and the trace amounts of natural energy in the air, repairing micro-tears as fast as he created them.

Thirty kilometers.

Karan collapsed onto a park bench, his chest heaving like a bellows. Steam rose from his skin in the cool night air.

Ding.

[Daily Quest Completed!]

[Running: 30/30km]

[Reward: 100 EXP, 10 Points]
[Trait Activation: A-Rank Talent (x8 Multiplier)]
[Total: 800 EXP, 10 Points]

Karan closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cold metal of the bench. He didn’t check the level up immediately. He just let the sensation of accomplishment wash over him.

No cheats. No loopholes. Just thirty kilometers of asphalt and will.

Soon he felt his chakra in his body actually started to increase.

“System,” he croaked, taking a long swig of water. “Status.”

The blue screen shimmered into existence against the backdrop of the night sky.

—

Name: Karan Malhotra

Ninja Level: 20 (60/231) [LEVEL CAP REACHED: ACADEMY GRADUATE]

Status: Ninja Academy Student (Peak)

Bloodline: Jugo (Passive Regen, Nature Affinity)

Affinities: Wind, Lightning

Talent: A-Rank

Skill: Chakra Control Lv1 (0/1000)

Jutsu: None

Points: 20

—

Level 20.

Karan stared at the number. In the world of Naruto, Level 20 was the threshold. It was the point where a student stopped playing ninja and started being one. It was the graduation requirement.

“I’m technically a Genin now,” Karan murmured. “Well, stat-wise. Skill-wise, I’m still a toddler.”

He looked at his hands. He could feel the chakra pool in his gut—it had grown denser, heavier. Before, it felt like a cup of water. Now, it felt like a bucket.

“Mitsuki… Orochimaru’s son,” Karan thought. “The template is doing the heavy lifting. I’m growing too fast. If a normal person did this, they’d be in the hospital for rhabdomyolysis. I’m just sitting here, catching my breath.”

He sat up, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The park was emptying out as the night grew deeper.

“Chakra Control,” he said.

He needed to grind the skill. Level 1 was basic. It allowed him to stick a leaf to his head. That was a party trick. He needed combat utility.

He looked at the large oak tree near the center of the park. It was old, its bark rough and knobby.

I could try climbing it, he thought.

He stood up and walked toward the tree. He channeled chakra to the soles of his feet. He could feel it—a magnetic hum.

But then, he stopped.

A police cruiser rolled slowly down the street adjacent to the park. Its spotlight swept over the grass, checking for vagrants or drug deals.

Karan stepped back into the shadows.

“Bad idea,” he realized.

This wasn’t Konoha. In the Hidden Leaf Village, seeing a kid run up a vertical wall was a Tuesday. Here, in the Marvel Universe, specifically the Amazing Spider-Man universe, it was a one-way ticket to a government black site.

Mutants. Inhumans. Enhanced individuals. The public feared them. The government hunted them. If a cop saw a teenager defying gravity, he wouldn’t applaud; he’d call SHIELD, or worse, struggle for his gun.

“I can’t train here,” Karan decided. “I need privacy.”

He turned and jogged back to the apartment, keeping his pace normal, looking like just another kid heading home after a workout.

—

Back in his room, Karan locked the door and pushed his dresser in front of it. Paranoia? Maybe. But he preferred to call it operational security.

He looked at the wall next to his bed. It was painted a dull, peeling white.

“Okay,” Karan exhaled. “Let’s defy physics.”

He took off his shoes and socks. Bare skin was easier for beginners.

He focused on the soles of his feet. He visualized the chakra not as a glue, but as tiny hooks, microscopic tendrils of energy latching onto the imperfections of the surface.

He lifted his right leg and placed his foot flat against the wall, about two feet off the ground.

He pushed chakra.

Stick.

His foot stayed there. It felt solid, as if he were standing on a stair.

“Step one,” he muttered.

Now, the hard part. Trust.

He lifted his left leg. For a split second, he was suspended only by the chakra on his right foot. Gravity grabbed him, trying to pull him down onto his back.

He slammed his left foot against the wall, higher up.

Stick.

He was horizontal now, his body parallel to the floor, his feet planted on the wall.

The blood rushed to his head. The disorientation was instant. His inner ear screamed that this was wrong, that he was falling.

He wobbled. The chakra flow on his right foot fluctuated.

Slip.

“Whoa!”

He crashed to the floor, landing on his shoulder with a heavy thud.

“Ow,” he groaned, rolling over.

[Chakra Control: +8 EXP]

“To get to Level 2… I need to do this a lot.”

He stood up, dusted himself off, and faced the wall again.

“Again.”

He climbed. He fell. He climbed. He walked three steps. He fell.

He learned that too much chakra repelled him from the wall, launching him backward onto his bed. Too little chakra made him slide down, leaving friction burns on his heels.

He had to find the equilibrium. A constant, adjusting flow that matched his weight and the angle of gravity.

An hour passed. Then two.

Sweat dripped from his nose—which was confusing, because he was currently standing on the ceiling, looking down at his messy bed.

“Don’t look down. Or up. Whatever,” Karan gritted his teeth.

His hair hung down toward the floor. The blood pressure in his face was intense.

[Skill Level Up!]

[Chakra Control: Level 2 (0/10,000)]

Karan released the chakra flow and dropped from the ceiling, landing in a crouch on the mattress. The springs groaned in protest.

“Level 2,” he panted. “Genin level control.”

He checked the progress bar.

Next Level: 10,000 EXP.

“Ten thousand,” he sighed. “That’s exponential growth for you.”

He did the mental math. Walking on walls was now “easy” for the System. It would probably yield only 4 EXP per minute now. And if he do the leaf concentration exercise, then he might only earn 2 EXP per minute.

“To maximize efficiency, I need to escalate. The next step is water walking.”

He looked toward the small bathroom connected to the living room.

“Bathtub?” he wondered. “No. Too shallow. I need a lake. Or a pool.”

But Queens wasn’t exactly known for its accessible, private lakes. And doing it at the public pool was out of the question.

“I’m capped for now,” Karan realized. “Unless I find a secret sewer river or break into a YMCA at midnight, I’m stuck at Level 2 for a bit.”

His stomach growled. A loud, angry protest that vibrated through his ribs.

The run had burned 2000 calories. The chakra training had burned another 1000.

“I am going to starve to death before I become a Ninja,” Karan muttered.

He unlocked his door and shoved the dresser back into place.

He walked out into the living room, heading for the door.

The front door rattled. Keys jingled.

The door swung open, and Chloe stumbled in.

She didn’t look like the confident, sharp-tongued aspiring actress he knew. She looked defeated. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a severe bun, but strands had come loose. She was wearing a trench coat over her club outfit, clutching her purse to her chest like a shield.

She kicked the door shut with her heel and slumped onto the worn-out beige sofa without taking off her coat.

Karan paused in the doorway.

“You’re back early,” he said. Usually, she worked until 2 AM. It was barely 10:30 PM.

Chloe didn’t look at him. She stared at the blank TV screen.

“I left,” she said, her voice flat. “I told the manager I was sick.”

Karan didn’t press. He walked to the fridge, hoping for a miracle. There was none. Just the empty space where the pizza used to be.

“I’m going out for food,” Karan said, grabbing his hoodie. “Pizza place down the block.”

Chloe didn’t respond.

Karan put his shoes on. He had his hand on the doorknob when he paused.

He looked back at her. She was shivering slightly, though the apartment wasn’t cold.

“You want to come?” he asked. “My treat.”

Chloe blinked. She turned her head slowly to look at him.

“You’re treating?” she asked, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. “Mr. I-Need-My-Parents-Check?”

“I had a good day,” Karan said simply. “Come on. You look like you need to get out of here.”

She hesitated. Then, with a heavy sigh, she stood up.

“Fine. But if we see anyone I know, you’re my cousin.”

—

The walk to Tony’s 99 Cent Pizza was quiet. The streetlights buzzed overhead, and the air smelled of exhaust and damp concrete.

Karan walked with his hands in his pockets, his stride long and relaxed. Chloe walked next to him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“A guy came in tonight,” she said suddenly.

Karan didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes forward, sensing she needed to talk to the air, not to him.

“Fat. Sweaty. Had a suit that cost more than my life,” she continued, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. “He… he didn’t touch me. Not technically. But the way he looked at me. The things he said.”

She shuddered.

“He offered me five thousand dollars to go to his hotel. Said I looked like his daughter.”

Karan’s step faltered for a fraction of a second, but he kept walking.

“Disgusting,” Karan said. One word. Flat. factual.

“I wanted to throw my drink in his face,” Chloe said, clutching her elbows. “I wanted to scream. But… five thousand dollars, Karan. That’s three months of rent. It’s headshots. It’s acting classes.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “And the worst part? I didn’t say no because I was noble. I said no because I was scared. And then I ran away and told my boss I had a migraine.”

She looked at Karan, expecting… something. Judgment? Pity? Advice?

In America, everyone had advice. You should quit. You should report him. You should empower yourself.

Karan remained silent. He knew he had no right to speak. He was a sixteen-year-old boy living on borrowed money (and stolen bully money). He couldn’t pay her bills. He couldn’t fix the broken system of the city. Telling her to “be strong” when she was trying to survive was an insult.

He just nodded.

“Some people are rot,” Karan said finally. “You stepped in it. It smells. But it wipes off.”

Chloe looked at him, surprised by the blunt, strange analogy.

“Yeah,” she exhaled, her shoulders dropping an inch. “Yeah, it wipes off.”

They reached the pizza shop.

It was a hole-in-the-wall, literally. A counter opening onto the sidewalk, fluorescent lights blazing white, the smell of oregano and burning cheese wafting out like a siren song.

“Five cheese slices,” Karan ordered, slapping a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “And a Coke.”

“Five?” Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Are you feeding a family?”

“Bulking season,” Karan said. “What do you want?”

“One plain slice,” she said. “And a diet soda. I have a fitting on Thursday.”

They got their food and stood at the high metal counter near the window. There were no chairs. This was New York eating—stand, fold, chew, leave.

Karan attacked his pizza. He ate with a ferocity that was almost alarming. He folded two slices together and bit through them like a shark.

Chloe picked at her single slice, watching him with a mixture of horror and fascination.

“You’re going to get fat,” she teased, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “Keep eating like that, and you’ll lose that… whatever new jawline thing you have going on.”

Karan swallowed a massive bite of cheese and dough. He wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“It’s not about being slim,” he said. He looked at his reflection in the dark window of the shop.

“I looked like a junkie, Chloe,” he said quietly. “For years. Skinny. Weak. Dying.”

Chloe stopped chewing. She looked at him. She knew about the drugs. She had found the foil in the bathroom trash when he first moved in, though she never mentioned it.

“I’m not doing that anymore,” Karan said, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection. “I’m tired of blaming everything, and live in trance.”

He picked up the third slice.

“I decided to stop taking drugs, and concentrate on my body,” he said, gesturing to his body. “Because if I don’t change, my situation won’t change. And I really, really hate my situation.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavier than the grease smoke.

Chloe looked down at her half-eaten slice. She thought about the club. The man in the suit. The acting auditions where she was told she was “too old” at twenty-two.

She felt stuck. Trapped in amber.

Karan was moving. He was running. He was eating like a starving wolf who had just discovered hunting.

“You’re weird, Karan,” she whispered.

“I know,” he smiled, finishing the third slice. “Hey, can I have your crust?”

Chloe laughed. It was a genuine sound, breaking the tension.

“Take it, garbage disposal,” she pushed her paper plate toward him.

Karan finished his five slices and her crust. Then, he went back to the counter.

“Three more pies,” he told the pizza guy. “To go. Whole pies.”

“Three?” The pizza guy looked at him. “You having a party, kid?”

“Something like that,” Karan said.

He wasn’t having a party. But he had a long night ahead. He had hit a wall with Chakra Control, but his physical stats could still be improved. He had the Might Guy approach to fall back on.

If he couldn’t walk on water, he would do five thousand pushups until his arms fell off.

Chloe walked back with him, carrying the soda bottles while he balanced the stack of pizza boxes.

“Thanks,” she said as they reached the apartment door. “For the pizza. And for… listening.”

“Anytime,” Karan said.

They entered the apartment. Chloe went to her room.

“Karan?” she called out before closing her door.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to that audition on Thursday. Even if I’m tired.”

Karan grinned. “Break a leg.”

“Don’t say that to a dancer,” she chuckled, and the door clicked shut.

Karan went into his room, placed the pizzas on his desk, and looked at the clock.

Midnight.

He had six hours until dawn.

He took off his shirt. He dropped to the floor.

“Let’s see if I can reach Level 21 before breakfast.”

He began to push.