"A challenge?" A flicker of genuine surprise crossed Huang Wen's face. He had only just finished integrating his new, colossal power, and here was the world, already knocking on his door, eager to provide more materials for his legend. He wondered who possessed the sheer arrogance, or perhaps the ignorance, to challenge him so soon after the televised fiasco.
Whoever it was, a gift of $100,000 delivered to his doorstep was never to be refused. Thanks to Kingpin's high-stakes bookmaking from the Terry fight, Huang Wen's net assets had already ballooned to a respectable $10 million, providing a solid foundation of financial security. But in the Marvel universe, money was merely armor—and you always needed thicker armor.
The challenger's journey began several days earlier in a dimly lit, forgotten corner of a grimy dive bar in Hell's Kitchen.
A man sat slumped over a cheap glass of whiskey, his clothes rumpled, his face obscured by a thick, unkempt beard and perpetually messy hair. He reeked of stale alcohol and desperation. He was barely paying attention to the television flickering above the bar until the scene shifted to a Chinese martial arts hall.
He glanced up just as Huang Wen adopted his Wing Chun stance. Then, the single, blindingly fast punch that sent Champion Terry flying caught the man's full attention. His weary, bloodshot eyes immediately sharpened, recognizing the almost inhuman kinetic delivery.
"Not bad," the man grunted, sipping his drink. He wasn't impressed by the showmanship, but by the clean, explosive technique. However, it was Huang Wen's declaration that followed that truly galvanized him.
"...remember to prepare $100,000, otherwise, I won't make a move lightly!"
The man's eyes glowed with fierce, renewed purpose. "One hundred grand? That's mine."
Several days and several hundred miles later, the man arrived at the Wing Chun Hall in Chinatown.
Even days after the fight, the enthusiasm for enrollment hadn't cooled. The Hall was a controlled chaos of new students practicing with eager, clumsy dedication. Reece Fisk, now acting as the Hall's most zealous and rotund bouncer/manager, intercepted the new arrival at the door.
"Hello, sir, are you here to register?" Reece asked with a practiced, customer-service smile, his inherent wariness battling his forced politeness. "I'm terribly sorry, but our Wing Chun Hall is currently at absolute full capacity. We've started a waitlist..."
"I'm here to challenge him," the man rasped, his voice low and gravelly, cutting Reece off mid-sentence.
The challenger glanced at Reece, and the intensity of his glare—like that of a hungry, caged wild animal—was enough to make Reece Fisk instinctively recoil and take a half-step back. The sheer predatory aura radiating from the man was overwhelming. Recognizing a threat far beyond his capabilities, Reece choked out a quick apology and bolted upstairs to summon his teacher. Zhong Qiang, already nervous, quickly scrambled after him.
Not long after, Huang Wen descended the stairs, his movements graceful and effortless, contrasting sharply with the chaotic energy of the Hall. When his eyes locked onto the challenger, he paused, a genuine wave of stunned recognition washing over him.
Wolverine. Uncle Logan.
The man before him, Logan, the iconic mutant with the Adamantium skeleton, stood hunched, radiating a primal, untamed energy.
"Hmm?" Logan's pupils narrowed as Huang Wen approached. His enhanced, animal senses screamed a warning. This young man—the one who moved like a blur on TV—was not just physically strong.
Huang Wen's physical abilities, his Essence rating, were absolutely on par with his own current, unraged state. More concerning was the sense of tightly bound, impossible power—the Qi—that Logan couldn't classify but knew was lethal.
"You're far more impressive than the flickering screen showed," Logan growled, slowly straightening up. "Judging by that dumbfounded look, you know who I am?"
"Indeed," Huang Wen replied, his surprise giving way to a delighted smile. "I didn't expect to encounter a genuine, roaming wolf here, Mr. Logan. Are you here to issue a formal challenge? I trust you brought the requisite $100,000 entry fee?"
"You can't beat me, kid," Logan warned, clenching his fists. "If you truly knew who I was, you'd know that."
"Perhaps, Mr. Logan, but you cannot employ all of your unique methods in a simple, public, unarmed challenge, can you?" Huang Wen countered, shaking his head gently. "How about this: we spar under the established rules—fists and feet only, no extraneous moves. If you win, you collect the $100,000 cash prize, no questions asked."
Huang Wen paused, allowing a subtle, strategic glint to enter his eyes. "If I win, you forfeit the cash, but you agree to stay here for six months. You become a specialist instructor for my advanced students, teaching them real-world combat skills. I will still pay you a generous salary. How does that sound?"
This is a jackpot! Huang Wen thought, his mind racing. This was a perfect opportunity for two massive, high-value tasks.
He instantly accessed the Task Page:
Task: Defeat Wolverine Logan in unarmed combat under Wing Chun Hall rules. Reward: One draw for a Super Item.
Task: Make Wolverine Logan agree to become an unarmed combat instructor at the Wing Chun Hall for a minimum of six months. Reward: One draw for a Super Skill.
"I accept both!" Huang Wen thought, clicking Accept on both tasks with zero hesitation. A Super Item and a Super Skill draw! Logan wasn't just a lucky charm; he was a walking, six-clawed treasure chest!
Huang Wen was about to generate another, more audacious task—perhaps forcing Logan to reveal the location of a secret Hydra base—when Logan's impatience reached its boiling point.
"Cut the talk, kid! Win first, then we'll talk contracts!" Logan roared, his patience snapping. He lunged forward, throwing a piston-like, heavy punch at Huang Wen's center mass.
"Always so short-fused," Huang Wen sighed inwardly, pursing his lips. He muttered, "I really do like the idea of you as my instructor, but honestly, dealing with your temper day-to-day might be a massive chore."
The first collision was violent and shocking.
BANG!
Huang Wen met the punch head-on, delivering a synchronized, full-body straight punch of his own. The sound of bone meeting bone was deafening in the confined space.
Logan staggered back two steps, shaking his head, genuinely stunned. No ordinary man could absorb and counter a blow from his Adamantium-reinforced skeleton without shattering every bone in their hand.
Huang Wen also took two steps back, his fist throbbing with sharp, searing pain. He looked at his knuckles, which were already bruising and turning purple.
The Adamantium is brutal! he realized. Logan's strength itself was roughly equal to his new, enhanced Essence of 105, but the fact that his bones were the hardest metal on Earth meant every counter was like punching a solid steel rod.
However, the power of his 105 Essence manifested instantly. The sharp, debilitating pain was already subsiding. The incredible recovery rate granted by his enhanced physical state meant that while the initial impact hurt severely, the damage was localized and rapidly healing—a preliminary form of self-healing, far superior to any normal human, though still leagues below Logan's regeneration factor.
A direct confrontation is idiocy, Huang Wen concluded instantly. His durability is the game-changer. I must rely on technique, speed, and leverage.
"Whoosh!" Before Huang Wen could fully compose himself, Logan, fueled by animal rage and surprise, launched another furious, sweeping haymaker. Logan would not let a moment of recovery pass.
Huang Wen responded by activating the Snow-Treading Plum Blossom Search (Qing Gong) skill. His extraordinary reaction time combined with the specialized lightness skill allowed him to move like a ghost. He wasn't just fast; he was evasive.
He slipped past Logan's punch, the wind of the blow whipping his hair. Instead of punching, Huang Wen executed a swift, elegant Wing Chun deflection, trapping Logan's arm, and then used the Tendon-Dislocating and Bone-Setting Hand skill to slap the back of Logan's head, not with force, but with a precise application of pressure that leveraged Logan's own forward momentum.
The powerful force, combined with Logan's momentum and the subtle manipulation of his neck muscles, instantly destroyed Logan's balance. The seasoned warrior went down hard, crashing to the wooden floor.
But Logan was not merely a boxer; he was a killer. Even as he lay prone, he executed a furious, low sweep kick, aiming for Huang Wen's lower body—a brutal, debilitating move designed to break a knee.
Huang Wen knew colliding with an Adamantium-laced limb would be catastrophic. He utilized the Qing Gong skill again, leaping clean over the sweeping leg with gravity-defying grace. He landed softly in a low lunge position, simultaneously seizing Logan's exposed, stationary leg.
With a powerful surge of his 105 Essence strength, he used the sudden grab to execute a perfect Wing Chun leverage throw, tossing the three-hundred-plus-pound mutant (Adamantium is heavy) clear across the remaining open space.
THUMP!
Logan lost his footing for the second time, slamming into the wall with a sickening impact that even the students gasped at. He spat a curse, grit his teeth against the pain (which was minimal, thanks to his healing, but the humiliation was not), and began to clamber up, his face a mask of primal, murderous fury. He was about to unleash his full, mutant power.
"Wait, Mr. Logan, that's enough!" Huang Wen shouted, stepping forward with confidence, blocking the path back to the center of the hall. "You have already fallen twice—and the second time, you fell clearly off the marked arena floor. The challenge is over!"