Ninja of Marvel World - Chapter 6
Chapter 6: The Ten-Million-Point Gamble
The bass of the pop music thumped against Karan’s chest, a rhythmic reminder that he was currently standing in the epicenter of the American teenage experience.
The Stacy backyard was a chaotic ecosystem of red solo cups, laughter, and the distinct, hormonal electricity that only exists when a hundred high schoolers are gathered in one place without parental supervision—or, in this case, with parental supervision that was politely ignoring them from the kitchen window.
Karan leaned against the rough bark of the oak tree, nursing a can of Sprite. He had done his social rounds. He had nodded at the jocks who were now terrified of him, smiled at the girls who were suddenly noticing his jawline, and eaten enough sliders to feed a small village.
Now, he was content to observe.
His eyes scanned the crowd and landed on a figure sitting alone on a garden bench near the rose bushes. The boy was hunched over, nursing a drink, looking like he was trying to calculate the structural integrity of the plastic cup.
Peter Parker.
Karan pushed off the tree and navigated through the crowd.
“Too loud for you?” Karan asked, stepping into Peter’s line of sight.
Peter jumped, nearly spilling his soda. He looked up, his eyes wide behind his thick-rimmed glasses.
“Oh. Hey, Karan,” Peter stammered, adjusting his glasses. “I was just… uh… thinking. About the acoustics. The decibel level here is actually surprisingly high given the open-air environment.”
Karan smiled and sat down next to him. “It’s a party, Peter. The physics of sound takes a backseat to the physics of socializing.”
Peter chuckled nervously. “Yeah. I guess. I’m not really… great at the whole ‘mingling’ variable.”
“Join the club,” Karan said, clinking his can against Peter’s cup. “Introverts of the world, unite. Separately. In your own homes.”
Peter laughed, a genuine, wheezy sound. “Exactly.”
Karan studied him closely.
Peter was skinny. Not just slender, but fragile. His wrists were thin, his posture kyphotic from years of hunching over desks and microscopes. No super-strength hidden under that plaid shirt.
He hasn’t been bitten, Karan confirmed. This is pre-Spider-Man Peter Parker.
“So,” Karan asked, deciding to probe a little. “You’re the science whiz, right? I heard you’re doing an internship.”
Peter’s face lit up. The awkwardness vanished, replaced by the intense, laser-focused enthusiasm of a genius in his element.
“Yeah!” Peter said, leaning in. “I’m working under Dr. Curt Connors. Do you know him?”
“The herpetologist?” Karan asked. “The guy with one arm?”
“He’s brilliant,” Peter gushed. “We’re working on cross-species genetics. Using reptilian DNA to trigger regeneration in mammalian tissue. It’s revolutionary, Karan. Imagine a world where amputees can regrow limbs, where we can cure degenerative diseases by borrowing the resilience of a lizard.”
“Lizards,” Karan repeated slowly. “That’s… specific. Any other animals? Spiders, maybe?”
Peter blinked, confused. “Spiders? No. Oscorp has a biocable division that works with arachnids, but that’s mostly for high-tensile polymers. Dr. Connors is strictly focused on the reptilian genome. Why?”
“Just asking,” Karan shrugged. “Spiders are cool.”
“They’re pests,” Peter dismissed, taking a sip of his soda. “But lizards? Lizards are the key to the next stage of human evolution.”
Karan nodded, but internally, alarm bells were ringing.
In The Amazing Spider-Man movie, Peter finds his father’s briefcase, sneaks into Oscorp, and gets bitten by a spider in the Biocable room before he really connects with Connors. Here, Peter was already working with Connors, already obsessed with the Lizard, and treated spiders like annoyances.
The timeline is wrong, Karan thought. Or maybe this isn’t the movie timeline at all.
“You know,” Peter said, looking at the crowd where Gwen was laughing with Flash Thompson. “Gwen is amazing. She’s the head intern. She actually understands more science than me.”
“She’s the birthday girl,” Karan said. “Go tell her.”
Peter shrank back into himself. “Maybe later. When the amplitude of the music goes down.”
Karan patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t wait too long, Pete. Decay rates apply to opportunities, too.”
He stood up, leaving the future superhero—or perhaps, just a brilliant scientist—to his thoughts.
—
The party wound down around midnight. The music faded, parents arrived in station wagons to collect their offspring, and the fairy lights dimmed.
Karan walked home through the quiet streets of Queens. The cool night air felt good against his skin.
He felt restless. The conversation with Peter had unsettled him. If Peter wasn’t Spider-Man, who was protecting New York? Or was the city currently undefended?
He climbed the stairs to his apartment, the smell of stale cooking oil greeting him in the hallway. He unlocked the door. The apartment was dark; Chloe was likely at the club or asleep.
He went into his room and booted up his laptop. It was a clunky, refurbished machine that sounded like a jet engine taking off, but it connected to the internet.
He opened Google.
Search: “New York Vigilante”
The results loaded.
There were blurry photos. Shaky cell phone videos taken from alleyways.
He clicked on a YouTube video titled “QUEENS GHOST CAUGHT ON TAPE!!!”
The video was grainy. It showed a figure swinging between buildings on a white web. The figure was wearing a white hooded suit with black and pink accents.
Karan paused the video and squinted.
The physique was slender. Agile. Distinctly feminine.
And the suit… he recognized it.
“Ghost Spider,” Karan whispered. “Spider-Gwen.”
He scrolled through the comments.
User123: “I saw her! She stopped a bus with her bare hands!”
NYGrit: “Another freak. First the mutants, now this.”
SpideyFan: “She’s hot though. Look at that form.”
Karan leaned back in his chair. “So, in this universe, Gwen Stacy got the bite. That explains why Peter is still normal. And why he’s working so hard on the Lizard serum. If Gwen is out there saving lives, Peter might feel inferior. He might want to be special too.”
This was dangerous. In the comics, when Gwen becomes Spider-Woman, Peter often becomes the Lizard out of jealousy and a desire to be “special” like her. And usually, he dies.
“Messy,” Karan muttered.
He opened a new tab. He needed to know the scale of this world. Was it just the Spider-Verse?
Search: “Superheroes”
Top result: Captain America.
He clicked the Wikipedia page.
Steve Rogers (1918 – 1945). Died crashing the Valkyrie into the Arctic to stop the Red Skull and Hydra.
“Okay,” Karan nodded. “So the MCU history is intact. Cap is on ice.”
He searched for “Fantastic Four.” No results.
He searched for “X-Men.” No results, but lots of conspiracy theories about “Mutants”.
“So Mutants exist, but they are underground. No Avengers yet.”
Then, he saw the banner ad at the top of the news site.
BREAKING NEWS: TONY STARK MISSING.
Karan clicked the link. The page loaded a CNN article.
Billionaire industrialist Tony Stark has been missing for 72 hours following an ambush on his convoy in the Kunar Province of Afghanistan. Stark was in the region demonstrating his new Jericho missile system.
There was a photo of Tony Stark—arrogant, wearing sunglasses, holding a scotch glass.
And below it, a statement from Obadiah Stane, acting CEO of Stark Industries.
“We are doing everything in our power to bring Tony home. Stark Industries is offering a reward of $100,000,000 USD for any information leading to his safe recovery.”
Karan stopped breathing.
He stared at the zeros.
One hundred million dollars.
He did the conversion in his head.
System Exchange Rate: $10 USD = 1 System Point.
10,000,000 Points.
Karan’s heart began to hammer against his ribs, harder than it ever had during his training.
He opened the [Mall] interface.
Sharingan (3-Tomoe): 1,000,000 Points.
Mangekyou Sharingan: 10,000,000 Points.
Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan: 10,000,000 Points.
Rinnegan: 100,000,000 Points.
Wood Release (Senju Bloodline): 20,000,000 Points.
Flying Thunder God Jutsu: 5,000,000 Points.
With Ten million points, Karan wouldn’t just be a ninja. He would be a God.
He could buy Mangekyu Sharingan.
“This…” Karan swallowed, his throat dry. “This is the exploit. This is the golden ticket.”
But then, reality crashed back in.
Tony Stark was in Afghanistan. In a cave. Being held by the Ten Rings.
Karan was in Queens. He was a Level 23 Genin, a snake contract, and a mean right hook.
He wasn’t Bulletproof. He wasn’t Iron Man.
“If I go there,” Karan whispered, “I’m entering a war zone. Real bullets. Real bombs. Terrorists who don’t care about my health bar.”
But he had knowledge. He knew exactly where Tony was.
“Gulmira,” Karan recalled the movie. “The Ten Rings operate near Gulmira. Stark is being held in a cave system in that valley. He escapes when Yinsen dies.”
If Karan could get there… if he could get Tony out before the Mark 1 armor was finished…
“Or even just help him escape,” Karan reasoned. “I don’t need to solo the army. I just need to be the one who brings him back.”
He looked at the bank tab open on his browser.
Checking Account: $842.50
This was the rent money. His parents had sent it yesterday. If he spent this, he was homeless.
He checked flight prices.
New York (JFK) -> Kabul (KBL). Economy. One Way. With layover in Dubai.
Price: $780.
He would have sixty dollars left. Enough for a taxi in Kabul and maybe a falafel.
“It’s suicide,” the rational part of his brain screamed. “You are a teenager. You will get shot. You will die in the desert and no one will know.”
Karan looked at the System panel.
[Ninja Level: 23]
[Status: Genin]
Genins in the Naruto world were child soldiers. They went on missions. They killed. They died.
“I died once already,” Karan said to the empty room. “I died clicking a pop-up ad because I wanted to be a ninja.”
He looked at the reflection of his eyes in the dark screen. They looked hungry.
“If I stay here, I grind for years. I fight muggers for pocket change. But will I be strong enough to survive when Thanos comes.”
“If I go… I might have chance.”
He moved the mouse cursor over the [Book Flight] button.
His finger hovered.
The rent. School. Chloe. His fake life.
He clicked.
[Booking Confirmed.]
Karan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He felt lightheaded.
“Okay,” he stood up, his legs shaking slightly. “Okay.”
He grabbed his backpack—his school bag. He dumped out the textbooks. Calculus hit the floor with a heavy thud. History followed.
He packed:
Two changes of clothes (dark colors).
A flashlight.
A first-aid kit.
Protein bars (all of them).
A water bottle.
His passport.
The charger for his phone.
He pulled up the contact for his homeroom teacher, Mr. Harrington.
It was 1:00 AM. He sent an email.
Subject: Emergency Family Leave
Dear Mr. Harrington,
I am writing to inform you that I will be absent for the next week due to a family emergency. My grandmother in India has fallen critically ill, and we are flying out immediately to be with her. I will catch up on all assignments upon my return.
Sincerely,
Karan Malhotra.
“Lying is a ninja skill,” Karan muttered, hitting send.
He looked around the room one last time. If he didn’t come back, Chloe would probably sell his stuff to cover the rent.
He scribbled a note on a piece of paper and left it on the kitchen counter.
Chloe – Going out of town for a gig. Be back in a week. Don’t eat my protein powder. – Karan.
He walked out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.
—
JFK International Airport was a purgatory of fluorescent lights and tired travelers.
Karan moved through the terminal like a ghost. He wore his black hoodie, hood up, headphones on. He didn’t look like a superhero. He looked like a moody teenager running away from home.
Security was tight. He had to take off his shoes.
“Anything to declare?” the TSA agent asked, looking at his meager backpack.
“Just snacks,” Karan said.
“Have a safe flight.”
Karan walked to Gate B42. The plane was a massive Boeing 777.
He boarded. Economy class. Seat 42E. Middle seat.
“Of course,” Karan sighed, squeezing past a large man who smelled of onions and a woman clutching a crying baby.
He sat down, his knees pressing into the seat in front of him.
The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Flight 890 with service to Dubai. Flight time will be approximately twelve hours and forty minutes.”
The engines roared to life. The plane began to taxi.
Karan looked out the small porthole window over the shoulder of the onion-man. He watched the New York skyline drift by. The Empire State Building. Stark Tower, glistening in the distance with the name STARK illuminated in blue.
“I’m coming for you, Tony,” Karan whispered against the glass. “Don’t die on me.”
The plane accelerated. The G-force pushed him back into his seat.