"Oh?" Huang Wen raised a curious eyebrow, glancing at Logan with a flicker of surprise. This level of immediate, profound attachment and responsibility was unusual for the Logan he knew, who took years to accept the clone, X-23, as his daughter. Was this unusual depth of feeling caused by the genetic link to Sabretooth, or simply the sheer intensity of their shared trauma and rescue?
"Of course, there is no issue at all." Huang Wen smiled, seeing the hesitant yet deeply hopeful look in Yuriko's eyes. "You are both free to leave whenever you wish. A change of scenery will be excellent, and it's a perfect opportunity for her to experience the simple absurdity of a normal life."
"I'll take her now, and we'll be back within the week," Logan calculated, already mentally setting a schedule. He respected Huang Wen's plans. "We will return as soon as the martial arts school renovations start. We'll be ready to help secure the place then."
"A few days is a tight schedule," Huang Wen shrugged, utterly indifferent to the timing. "Why rush? Wait until the renovations are in full swing before you take off. That way, you'll have a clear departure point. As for Uncle Zhong and the others, I have ways of being back here faster than a thought if they truly need me. I will let them know about the new emergency contact protocol."
Logan paused, his gaze briefly flicking to Yuriko. She stood perfectly still, offering no input, simply accepting whatever instruction was given—a habit born of a lifetime of conditioning.
"Teacher, with all this talk of renovations and grand plans, when will you finally begin teaching me real martial arts?" John, the Fireman, having patiently stood by while the complex emotional drama unfolded, finally couldn't hold back his youthful impatience any longer.
"Patience, young apprentice. Your internal fire is strong, but your foundation must be rock solid," Huang Wen smiled, shaking his head gently. "You and Banner will first join the apprentice-level students to master the basic stances and movements. As for the true martial arts—the internal energy, the techniques—I will tailor those to each of you individually, based on your own unique qualities."
"Come, let's go downstairs first. It's time to give everyone an update on the situation and explain Logan's brief leave."
Downstairs, the atmosphere in the Wing Chun school was one of anxious anticipation. Zhong Qiang, the most vocal and loyal of the students, saw Huang Wen descend the stairs and immediately lit up.
"Brother Wen, you're back! Everything settled at the lake? Did you… clean up that whole mess?" Zhong Qiang quickly stood up, his eyes wide with concern and curiosity.
"It's mostly handled, yes, though I've made a few powerful enemies, as you might expect," Huang Wen said, giving his friend a comforting pat on the shoulder.
"Things might be tense in the city for a little while, as these groups reorganize. I will be traveling soon after the school renovations start, but I'm leaving you an emergency number. If anything—anything—goes wrong, you call it instantly. I will be back before the problem escalates."
Riesfisk, who had been practicing a form diligently in the corner, walked over, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Teacher, by the way, that unusual guy—the one who could teleport through shadows—he suddenly disappeared entirely right after the X-Men left."
"Ah, Nightcrawler. Yes, I noticed he was gone. He always was a slippery one," Huang Wen nodded, unfazed. He then focused on the quiet scientist. "Banner, how are you finding the training? Are the stances and the initial forms starting to feel natural?"
"It's tolerable, but… certainly challenging, Teacher," Bruce Banner admitted, managing a wry, strained smile. "The coordination and the precision required in the 'Goat-and-Horse Stance' alone are proving to be a much bigger hurdle than I anticipated. It requires a presence of mind that… well, I often lack."
"Teacher, thank you again for what you did this morning. I heard the news; you completely threw off the balance of power," Jack, the police sergeant who was keenly aware of the local power dynamics, stopped his shadowboxing to approach the gathering crowd.
"Don't worry. When the school is under renovation, I will personally ensure that my best contacts keep a watchful eye on this neighborhood. If any trouble surfaces, you will be the first to know!"
"That is good to hear, Jack." Huang Wen nodded, recognizing the value of this connection. Jack, a sergeant with family influence, represented the legitimate power structure.
His commitment ensured that Chinatown would have strong advocates on both the local law enforcement and the internal community security fronts—a crucial asset for stability. "In that case, I will certainly provide you with my emergency contact details. Your support means a great deal to the community."
"Consider it done, Teacher. I swear I will maintain the absolute stability of this entire Chinatown district!" Jack vowed solemnly, his eyes gleaming with the ambition of a man who saw his career path widening considerably.
Riesfisk pursed his lips slightly, but said nothing. He had originally seen himself as the sole conduit for providing security and resources to Huang Wen, but he couldn't openly complain about the sergeant's useful political influence.
"Alright, John, you stay here. Familiarize yourself with the basic forms alongside everyone else. Zhong Qiang and the others can guide you through the motions," Huang Wen instructed, turning his attention back to his teaching strategy.
He silently ran through his immediate training plan, calculating the short time he had left before his extended journey.
"Logan and John need to focus on internal energy, the Qi cultivation techniques and meridian routes. That is a slow burn; the real practice must be done by them, alone, over time, but the introduction must be immediate."
"Zhong Qiang's lightness skill is rudimentary. He requires immediately practical skills. I'll teach him the Sunflower Acupuncture Technique for disabling opponents quickly, and perhaps some advanced Wing Chun sticky-hands for rapid self-defense. That way, he has simple, direct ways to neutralize a threat long enough to contact me."
"As for Banner, the core problem is control. I will teach him a specialized mental enhancement ability to strengthen his conscious will, and then the foundational forms of the Tiger-Crane Paired Form Fist. The Hulk, while pure muscle, will eventually internalize the movements and efficiency of the style once Banner has truly mastered them. However, his natural talent for delicate, subtle Qi manipulation seems very low, which will be his greatest hurdle."
While Huang Wen was quietly deciding the fate of his disciples and preparing for his own mission, the chaotic drama at Alkali Lake was reaching its own, painful climax.
"UGH!"
In the wreckage-strewn, water-seeping control room, Magneto suddenly woke up. The paralysis from the pressure point strike had been momentary, just long enough for Huang Wen to achieve his goal. But the residual effect was devastating.
He instinctively tried to push himself up from the cold, wet floor. He managed to sit up, but his lower body remained a dead weight. His heart gave a sickening lurch.
"What… what is this?! I can't feel my legs!"
In a sudden surge of blind panic and fury, Magneto tried to activate his mutant power. He focused his will, attempting to manipulate the jagged metal scraps lying near him to lift his body. The metal instantly strained, levitating a mere few inches off the floor.
But the moment his power was successfully channeled, a shattering, catastrophic pain exploded inside his skull—a pain far worse than Charles's psychic probe. It felt as if his very consciousness had been struck by an unseen, metaphysical hammer.
"AAAAHHH!" Magneto screamed, the raw agony wrenching from his lungs.
"CLANG!" The levitated metal instantly dropped back to the floor with a heavy crash. His body, already twitching from the earlier nerve damage, convulsed violently.
Charles, who was still trying to recover from his own mental ordeal, stared at his friend in horror. "Eric, what is it? What happened to you?"
"How is this possible?" Magneto gasped, slumping back against the destroyed console, his eyes wide and terrified. "I was wearing the helmet! I should be protected! That young upstart… he inflicted a devastating psychic injury! And my legs… I can't move my legs! I have no sensation below the waist!"
The X-Men, witnessing the once-omnipotent Master of Magnetism reduced to a terrified, screaming wreck, felt a collective shiver of fear run down their spines. They dimly realized that this was no mere physical attack; this was a calculated, precise, and utterly ruthless counter-blow left behind by the golden warrior.
Huang Wen had not just defeated Magneto, he had engineered a customized, long-term punishment. The pressure point strike had caused internal nerve and spiritual damage, and the mental assault was designed to backfire the moment Magneto tried to use his own power, essentially punishing him with his own strength.
"Professor, we must leave! Now!" Jean Grey, seeing the dam walls groan and the water rushing in with alarming speed, urgently shouted.
"Get Eric out! Rogue, get Mystique! We have to move!" Charles ordered, his voice strained but commanding.
The X-Men scrambled, their exit now an emergency scramble for survival, not a tactical retreat. Cyclops and Storm carried Charles, while Iceman helped lift the paralyzed Magneto. They ran toward the exit, their original plan completely forgotten, their rescue mission now turning into a desperate escape.
However, without the benefit of Nightcrawler's spontaneous teleportation, or Logan's primal, navigating instincts, they quickly found themselves funneled into a collapsing service tunnel—a dead end.
"ROOARR!"
A colossal wave of ice-cold lake water, freed by the catastrophic failure of the main dam structure, surged down the tunnel towards them. Iceman, Bobby, screamed, throwing up a colossal wall of ice with every ounce of his energy.
But the sheer volume and force of the torrent was overwhelming. The ice wall cracked, groaned, and began to give way, the freezing water beginning to seep through and sweep over the floor. The X-Men were trapped.
The consequences of their moral miscalculation—attacking their only savior—were immediately apparent. They were about to perish in the very facility they had come to save.
Their mentor, Charles, was abandoned in a wheelchair, and their nemesis, Magneto, was broken and paralyzed. The true lesson of the golden martial artist was sinking in: the cost of treachery is always higher than the risk of trust.