c6: The Second Task (1/4)
"You mean, you want me to formally assign you this as a mission?"
Bruce Banner, a man who had seen everything from gamma radiation-induced mutations to the fall of Sokovia, was genuinely baffled.
But because he needed the other man's help because Ryan Wong had done what even Thor or Iron Man couldn't—Banner was willing to entertain his strange request.
Ryan nodded. "Frame it as a mission: your objective is to prevent yourself from causing harm when you transform. Or, ideally, prevent the transformation altogether."
"This would be a long-term mission. Every time you're stopped or calmed down successfully, it counts as a completed objective."
Banner nodded slowly, trying to understand. "Okay… that works."
Ryan added, "Good. Now we talk about the mission compensation."
Banner blinked, surprised. That part hadn't occurred to him.
Ryan frowned. "What? You think this is charity?"
"No, of course not!" Banner said quickly. "What kind of… compensation do you have in mind?"
"Simple," Ryan said after thinking. "You work for me. That's your payment. Every time I stop the Hulk, you owe me a favor. A task. Something you do in return."
"Work for you?" Banner hesitated, visibly unsure. He was worried. Not about labor but about what kind of work a man this powerful might demand. The last time someone offered him a job with that vague a description, he ended up hunted by General Ross.
After all, aside from being the Hulk, Bruce Banner's only real asset was his intellect—his knowledge in nuclear physics, gamma radiation, biotechnology, and quantum mechanics.
Seeing the hesitation, Ryan clarified, "Don't worry. I won't ask you to do anything that crosses your moral line. No weapons programs. No biochemical weapons. You'll never have to replicate the Hulk."
Hearing that, Banner exhaled with relief and nodded. "Then… alright. Deal."
Ryan smiled, satisfied. "Good."
"But," he added, "I won't be following you around like a babysitter. I'll come when you need me."
Banner tilted his head. "How will you know?"
"I've already marked you. As long as you're still on Earth, I can be there in an instant," Ryan said calmly.
With that, he turned to leave. "Now, I've got to go."
He formed a seal and disappeared instantly, vanishing in a flash like a golden afterimage.
Leaving Banner alone on the rooftop.
"…Hey! You could've at least helped me get off the building!" Banner called out, throwing his arms in the air.
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After departing from Banner, Ryan Wong released the persona of Minato Namikaze, shedding the Hokage's blond appearance and reverting to his original form young, composed, and strikingly calm.
He turned and walked toward home.
Though the fight hadn't left him physically injured, his mind was still heavy from the strain of combat and the realization of what kind of world he had stepped into one where gamma monsters, secret government agencies, and ancient gods existed simultaneously.
He needed to unwind.
And for Ryan, there was nothing more grounding than his own apartment and his own bed.
As he walked, a thought occurred to him.
"How do I unlock other characters besides Minato Namikaze?"
He posed the question mentally to his system.
The response echoed through his mind with precision:
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[Every time the host reaches 50% completion with a persona, they earn one new character slot.]
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"Fifty percent, huh?" Ryan murmured.
Didn't seem too difficult. After all, he'd started at 15%, and just defeating Abomination, containing Hulk, and confronting General Ross had pushed him to 25%.
If he kept taking on appropriate missions, playing the role as Minato would naturally progress.
By the time he returned home, the familiar sights of New York's inner streets came into view.
He ignored the stares from civilians and tourists, unlocked the front door of his building, stepped into his restaurant, and locked the door behind him.
He wasn't just being cautious.
He was being smart.
Because the street outside his establishment wasn't just in Manhattan—it was located in a district that no sane local strolled through after dark.
This wasn't Times Square, and it wasn't Brooklyn Heights.
It was Hell's Kitchen.
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Eight blocks. One reputation. Endless danger.
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Locals had a saying: "If you value your life, stay away from that damned place."
And they all knew what "that place" meant.
Hell's Kitchen.
To outsiders, it was just another struggling part of the city. But to those who walked the darker paths thieves, smugglers, metahuman traffickers, and mercenaries—it was sacred ground.
In this very neighborhood, Matt Murdock had become Daredevil, Frank Castle had declared war as the Punisher, and the Hand had raised entire armies in the shadows.
Ryan Wong had opened a restaurant here.
To most, that sounded suicidal.
But Ryan wasn't most people.
He was building something.
And the shadows of Hell's Kitchen were the perfect cover.
Many ruthless figures had emerged from here—none more infamous than the uncrowned king of New York's underground, Wilson Fisk, better known as Kingpin of the Golden Union.
Fisk had ruled the city's criminal underworld from the shadows of Hell's Kitchen, using a mix of brute force, high-level corruption, and financial clout to keep law enforcement off his back and competitors in the grave.
Hell's Kitchen had always been treated like a gray zone. Over the years, North American law enforcement had developed a tendency to turn a blind eye to it sometimes due to political red tape, other times because of sheer fear.
This systematic neglect was exactly why the area had evolved into what it was today: a haven of crime, secrecy, and blood-soaked deals.
Ryan Wong's restaurant was positioned right next to the invisible border of this crime-ridden war zone. His predecessor, a low-key man with sharp instincts, had long developed the habit of keeping the restaurant shuttered and locked unless it was strictly open for business.
And Ryan had no desire to attract unnecessary attention either especially not with the powers he was hiding.
So he followed the same routine: low profile, quiet hours, and double-locked doors.
After returning home, Ryan made his way upstairs and collapsed onto his bed. The mattress creaked beneath him as his muscles relaxed but his mind didn't.
A sudden thought struck him.
Back when he'd first accessed the system's character draw feature, there were three prize pools available to him: Naruto, DC, and Dragon Ball.
He had drawn from the Naruto prize pool and ended up with Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage powerful, certainly, but not invincible by Marvel standards.
Which led him to a deeper concern.
He reached out mentally. "System, does drawing from the Naruto prize pool mean all future characters I play will also be from the Naruto universe?"
The system's response echoed with certainty: [Affirmative.]
Ryan's brow furrowed.
It wasn't that he looked down on the Naruto world—it boasted some serious top-tier characters. The likes of Kaguya Ōtsutsuki, Hashirama Senju, or even Madara Uchiha weren't exactly weak.
But when placed against the cosmic-level threats of the Marvel Universe beings like Dormammu, Galactus, Celestials, or Thanos wielding the Infinity Gauntlet Naruto's strongest warriors began to feel... limited.
Even Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki, the Sage of Six Paths, might struggle to hold his own against someone like Scarlet Witch during her House of M phase or Sentry when his mental stability collapses and The Void takes over.
And that's assuming Ryan would ever get a character that strong.
It wasn't guaranteed. For all he knew, the next draw might give him Konohamaru or Kiba Inuzuka fine ninjas, but practically useless in a fight against Hela or Dark Phoenix.
The DC Universe, by contrast, offered a different kind of power ceiling. Characters like Superman Prime One Million, Doctor Fate, The Spectre, and Martian Manhunter had power levels that could match or exceed Marvel's cosmic entities.
And Dragon Ball?
That was on a whole other scale.
Frieza, a galactic tyrant with planet-busting capabilities, was only a mid-tier villain in that world. Beerus, Jiren, and Ultra Instinct Goku were walking forces of destruction literal gods of combat.
So Ryan, still lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, asked with a flicker of hope:
"System, is there any way to switch or expand my character prize pool?"
He waited in silence for the reply, heart beating a little faster.
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