Ninja of Marvel World - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Merchant of Death and the Ghost of Gulmira

The tunnel exit was blindingly bright. After the oppressive gloom of the caves, the Afghan sun felt like a physical weight pressing down on their shoulders.

Karan walked first, his senses extended in a spherical radius, checking for any lingering threats. Behind him walked Tony Stark, blinking rapidly against the glare, supporting a weary Ho Yinsen. Behind them, the twenty women shuffled out, clutching each other, their eyes darting around fearfully at the open sky they hadn’t seen in months.

And flanking them all were the snakes. A legion of white vipers, moving with a synchronized, eerie discipline.

They reached the outer perimeter of the camp. The bodies of the guards Karan had dispatched earlier were still there, baking in the heat.

Tony stopped.

He wasn’t looking at the bodies. He was looking at the crates stacked high against the canyon wall.

Hundreds of them. Wooden boxes stenciled with white letters: STARK INDUSTRIES.

There were missiles. Launchers. Crates of ammunition. Landmines. It was a dragon’s hoard of destruction, all bearing his name.

“Wait,” Tony said, his voice raspy.

Karan stopped and turned around. “We don’t have time for sightseeing, Stark. We need to move before reinforcements arrive.”

“That’s my stuff,” Tony whispered. He walked over to a crate, running a dirty hand over the logo. “This… this wasn’t supposed to be here. I didn’t approve these shipments.”

He looked at the mountains of weaponry. He looked at the women, the refugees whose village had likely been decimated by these exact weapons.

The guilt hit him like a hammer to the chest, harder than shrapnel.

“We can’t leave it,” Tony said, turning to Karan. His eyes were hard, burning with a new, manic intensity. “Burn it.”

Karan raised an eyebrow. “Burn it? With what? I don’t have a flamethrower, and I’m not wasting my energy to light a bonfire. We leave. Now. Plus blasting them will signal the reinforcement even more.”

“No!” Tony snapped. “We are not leaving this here for them to use. Destroy it.”

Karan sighed. He checked his watch. “Stark, I’m a retrieval specialist, not a demolition crew. My contract says ‘Safe Return of Tony Stark.’ It doesn’t say ‘Destroy Inventory.'”

“I’ll pay you,” Tony said instantly.

Karan paused. “You’re already paying me a hundred million.”

“I’ll double it,” Tony said. He didn’t blink. “Two hundred million. Total. But you turn this canyon into a crater. Nothing survives. No missiles. No bullets. Nothing.”

Karan stared at the billionaire. He saw the desperation. This wasn’t about money for Tony; it was about redemption. It was about erasing a stain on his soul.

For Karan, however, it was very much about the money.

“Two hundred million,” Karan repeated. “Deal.”

He walked toward the weapon cache.

“Stand back,” Karan ordered. “Way back. Behind those rocks.”

Tony and Yinsen ushered the women toward a rocky outcrop about two hundred meters away.

Karan stood alone before the mountain of explosives.

He opened the [System Mall].

“I need explosives,” he muttered. “Something volatile but controllable.”

He scrolled past the Kunai and Shuriken. He found it.

[Explosive Tag (Paper Bomb)]
Infused with fire chakra. Detonates on command or timer.
Cost: 10 Points per tag.

Karan had 35 points left.

“I’ll take three,” he decided. “Thirty points. A small investment for a hundred million dollar return.”

Three slips of paper materialized in his hand. They looked like innocuous prayer strips, inscribed with the kanji for ‘Explosion’.

Karan walked to the center of the weapon pile. He found a crate of missile warheads—highly unstable, incredibly powerful.

He slapped the first tag onto the warhead crate.
He placed the second on a stack of mortar shells.
The third, he placed on a fuel drum.

“Art is an explosion,” Karan muttered, channeling Deidara for a moment.

He turned and sprinted.

He used Body Flicker, blurring across the sand to reach the rocky outcrop where Tony and the others were waiting.

“Is it done?” Tony asked, looking at the pile. “I don’t see anything. Just some paper?”

“Wait for it,” Karan said.

He formed the ‘Ram’ hand seal.

“Katsu.”

BOOM.

It wasn’t a normal explosion. The chakra-infused tags didn’t just ignite; they detonated with a concussive force that shattered the casings of the missiles.

The sympathetic detonation was apocalyptic.

A massive fireball mushroomed into the sky, turning the orange canyon white. The ground shook violently, knocking Yinsen and several women off their feet. The sound was deafening, a roar that tore through the air and echoed off the mountains for miles.

Tony shielded his eyes, watching his legacy burn. The heat washed over them, hot enough to singe hair even at this distance.

Karan watched the EXP notification log, hoping for some hidden kills, but the camp was already empty.

“Beautiful,” Karan said. “Now, let’s get a ride.”

—

They found a truck near the camp entrance—a heavy-duty transport vehicle that had miraculously survived the blast, though its windshield was cracked.

Karan hotwired it. It wasn’t a ninja skill; it was just basic knowledge from his previous life in Delhi, where hotwiring scooters was a rite of passage for some.

The women piled into the back. Yinsen sat in the middle. Tony took the passenger seat. Karan drove.

The drive back to Gulmira was silent. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by the grim reality of their situation.

Tony looked out the window at the desolate landscape. “I built all of that,” he murmured. “I thought I was protecting people.”

“You were protecting your stock price,” Karan said, keeping his eyes on the road. “But hey, everyone needs a wake-up call. Yours just involved a cave and a car battery attached to your chest.”

Tony glanced at him. “You’re very cynical for a kid who looks like he should be in high school.”

“High school is worse,” Karan said. “More politics.”

They reached Gulmira an hour later.

The village was a ruin. Walls were crumbled, bullet holes pockmarked every surface, and the streets were empty save for a few stray goats.

When the truck pulled into the square, people emerged from the shadows. They saw the women in the back.

Cries of joy and anguish erupted. Families were reunited. Husbands found wives, children found mothers. It was a scene of raw, unfiltered emotion.

Yinsen climbed out of the truck. He walked slowly toward a small, partially destroyed house on the edge of the square.

Tony followed him, limping slightly. Karan trailed behind, keeping watch.

Yinsen pushed open the broken door.

The house was empty. Dust motes danced in the light beams cutting through the roof. There was a child’s doll on the floor, half-buried in rubble.

Yinsen picked it up. He dusted it off gently.

“Yinsen?” Tony asked softly, standing in the doorway. “Is your family…”

Yinsen turned. His face was a mask of quiet, crushing sorrow.

“They are gone, Stark,” Yinsen said. “My wife. My son. They died when the Ten Rings first took the village. Weeks ago.”

Tony looked stricken. “But… in the cave… you said you were going to see them.”

“I was,” Yinsen smiled, a sad, broken expression. “I thought I would die in that cave. I was ready to join them.”

He looked at Tony. “But then I saw you. A man who had everything, yet had nothing. You needed time. So I gave you time.”

Tony leaned against the doorframe, the weight of the revelation crushing him. Yinsen had saved his life, nursed him back to health, motivated him to build the armor, all while knowing he had nothing left to return to.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered.

“Don’t be,” Yinsen placed the doll on a shelf. “Do not waste your life, Stark. That is all I ask.”

Karan stood outside, listening. He felt a pang of sympathy. It was a classic tragic backstory.

“Alright,” Karan called out, breaking the heavy atmosphere. “Touching moment, really. But we are still in a war zone. Stark, make the call.”

Tony wiped his face, smearing grease and dirt. “Right. The call.”

He looked at Karan. “Do you have a phone? My captors didn’t let me keep my Blackberry.”

Karan pulled out his cheap Android. “International roaming is on. Don’t use up all my data.”

Tony grabbed the phone. He dialed a number from memory.

It rang twice.

“Colonel Rhodes.”

“Rhodey,” Tony said, his voice cracking. “It’s me.”

There was a silence on the other end. Then, a choked sound. “Tony? Tony, is that you? Oh my god. Where are you?”

“I’m in a village called Gulmira,” Tony said. “I’m… I’m headed for the Funvee, Rhodey. Come get me.”

“Sit tight. We have birds in the air. ETA twenty minutes.”

Tony hung up and handed the phone back to Karan.

“They’re coming.”

“Good,” Karan said. “I’m going to take a walk. I need to check the perimeter.”

—

Karan walked away from the reunion, finding a secluded spot behind a ruined wall overlooking the valley.

He needed to check his harvest.

The notifications had been scrolling in the corner of his vision for the last hour, but he had ignored them to focus on driving.

Now, he opened the floodgates.

[Enemies Defeated: 143]
[Total EXP Earned: 14,300]

Karan’s eyes widened.

Fourteen thousand.

In the Naruto scaling system, leveling up in the early stages required hundreds of EXP. But as the levels got higher, the curve steepened.

However, 14,000 was a massive injection of raw power.

“System,” Karan commanded. “Process Level Up.”

The sensation that followed was not the warm soup of the early levels. It was a tsunami.

Heat exploded in his core. It rushed through his chakra network like liquid fire. His muscles convulsed, tightening and relaxing rapidly as the Jugo cells went into overdrive, adapting to the sudden influx of energy.

His bones ached. His skin tingled. His perception expanded, the world becoming sharper, louder, more vivid.

Level 29… 35… 40… 45…

It stopped at Level 47.

[Congratulations!]

[Rank Achieved: Chunin (Mid-Tier)]

[Bonus Reward: 50,000 Points]

Karan gasped, falling to his knees as the energy settled. He felt… dense. Powerful.

He summoned his status.

—

Name: Karan Malhotra

Ninja Level: 47 (1025/1176)

Status: Chunin

Bloodline: Jugo (Passive Regen, Nature Affinity)

Affinities: Wind, Lightning

Talent: A-Rank

Skill: Chakra Control Lv2, Body Flicker Lv1, Sensing Technique Lv2

Jutsu: Transformation Lv1, Clone Lv1

…

Points: 50,030

[Quest]

[Mall]

—

“675 chakra,” Karan breathed, clenching his fist.

Before, he had 280. Now, he had more than twice…

The jump from Genin to Chunin wasn’t linear; it was exponential. A Genin was a foot soldier. A Chunin was a captain, a leader, a force of nature.

“I can use C-Rank Jutsu a few times now,” Karan realized. “I can use B-Rank Jutsu if I buy them. As for summoning Manda level summon is still impossible.”

And the points. 50,000 Points.

Combined with the impending 200 million dollar payout from Tony (which he would convert to 200 million points), he was about to become the richest ninja in the multiverse.

He stood up, dusting off his knees. He felt lighter. Stronger.

He walked back to the village square.

—

As he approached, a group of four women separated from the crowd of locals.

They looked different. They weren’t wearing the traditional Afghan clothing; they wore tattered western clothes—jeans, shirts that were stained and torn.

They spotted Karan and hurried over.

“Excuse me,” one of them said. She was blonde, French by the accent. “Sir?”

Karan stopped. “Yes?”

“We… we are not from here,” she stammered. “I am a journalist from France. She is an aid worker from Germany. We were taken two months ago.”

She looked at Karan with awe and fear. They had seen him command the snakes. They knew he wasn’t normal.

“We need help,” the German woman added. “We need to get to our embassies. We don’t know if we will be safe.”

Karan looked at them. He felt a twinge of sympathy, but he was currently playing the role of the mysterious mercenary.

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder towards Tony, who was sitting on a stone bench talking to Yinsen.

“See the guy with the goatee and the glowing chest?” Karan said. “That’s Tony Stark. He’s got the US military coming for him. Stick to him like glue. He’s your ticket out.”

The women looked relieved. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me,” Karan said. “Just don’t mention the snakes.”

They nodded vigorously and ran toward Tony.

Karan walked up to Tony as the women began pleading their case. Tony, to his credit, immediately switched into CEO mode.

“Okay, okay,” Tony was saying. “I’ll get you on the bird. Rhodey won’t mind. We’ll get you to the base, and then the State Department will handle the rest.”

He looked up as Karan approached.

“You’re popular,” Tony noted.

“I’m efficient,” Karan corrected. “Stark, a word.”

Tony stepped away from the group. “What’s up? You want an advance on the check?”

“No,” Karan said, his voice lowering. “I want anonymity.”

Tony frowned. “Come again?”

“When the military lands, they’re going to ask who saved you,” Karan said.

“And?”

“And you’re going to tell them it was a private contractor who wishes to remain nameless,” Karan said firmly. “I don’t want my face on CNN. I don’t want to be famous.”

Tony studied him. “You just did the most magical thing I’ve seen since the newsreels, and you want to hide?”

“I’m a mercenary. Fame is good for business, but bad for personal life.”

Tony chuckled. “I respect that. Fine. You’re a ghost. I found my own way out. I escaped. The explosion was… a serendipitous accident.”

“And the snakes?” Karan asked.

Tony shuddered. “I am definitely not mentioning the snakes. People will think I’m hallucinating from dehydration. I’ll make sure Yinsen and the others keep their mouths shut too. NDAs for everyone.”

“Good.”

Just then, a low thumping sound began to vibrate in the air.

Thwup-thwup-thwup.

Dust began to swirl in the square. The villagers covered their faces.

Two US Air Force Pave Hawk helicopters crested the mountain ridge, banking hard toward the village.

“Here comes the cavalry,” Tony said, a grin breaking across his tired face.

The helicopters landed in a storm of sand. Marines poured out, weapons raised, securing a perimeter.

A man in a flight suit jumped out of the lead chopper. He scanned the crowd.

“Tony!”

“Rhodey!”

James Rhodes ran toward his friend. Tony stumbled forward. They collided in a hug that nearly knocked them both over.

“Next time,” Rhodey yelled over the rotor wash, “you ride in the Funvee with me!”

Tony laughed, tears mixing with the dust on his face. “Deal. Definitely deal.”

Karan stood back, hands in his pockets, watching the reunion.

Rhodey pulled back and looked at Tony. “You okay? You look like hell.”

“I’ve been better,” Tony admitted. “Hey, we got passengers. Friend of mine, Dr. Yinsen. And some civilians who need extraction.”

Rhodey looked at the group. He saw Karan.

“Who’s the kid?” Rhodey asked, eyeing Karan’s local garb.

“That’s…” Tony paused.

“That’s my intern,” Tony improvised. “Local hire. Critical to the escape. He’s coming with us.”

Rhodey looked skeptical, but he didn’t argue. “Alright. Load ’em up! Let’s go home!”

—

Ramstein Air Base, Germany -> Andrews Air Force Base, USA.

The C-17 Globemaster was loud, cold, and uncomfortable, but to Karan, it felt like a luxury suite.

He sat on a cargo netting seat, wrapped in a wool blanket. Across from him, Tony was sleeping, an IV drip attached to his arm. Yinsen was reading a magazine, looking fascinated by the advertisements.

Karan closed his eyes.

He didn’t have to pay for a flight ticket. He didn’t have to dodge customs. He was flying military transport straight back to the States.

“Mission accomplished,” he thought.

As the plane began its descent into Maryland, the System chimed.

[Quest Completed: Rescue Iron Man]

[Rank: C-Rank (upgraded to B-Rank due to complete destruction of enemy base)]

[Rewards:]

100,000 Points.

One (1) Free B-Rank Jutsu Scroll.

Karan smiled under his blanket.

Total Points: 150,035.

Pending Transfer from Stark Industries: $200,000,000.

The plane touched down. The tires screeched against the American runway.

Karan opened his eyes.

He had left as a desperate kid with a few hundred dollars. He was returning as a Chunin warlord with the GDP of a small island nation.

“Welcome back to America, Karan,” he whispered to himself. “Time to go shopping.”