In the morning. Every channel. Every station. Every goddamn media outlet in America. The entire country was tuned in. Across New York, televisions in bars, apartments, offices, and subways played the same footage.
The catalyst? Jack Hou. Or rather—his clones.
The footage showed them, brazenly walking through the entrance of Mount Sinai Hospital, each one carrying an unconscious woman or child.
Their bodies were in terrible condition. Malnourished. Bruised. Some barely clinging to life. It should have been a moment of horror. A moment that exposed the absolute filth rotting away in the heart of New York City.
But instead? The media had a different focus.
A news anchor for NY1, stiff in her posture, adjusted her papers before speaking.
"Breaking news: An unidentified criminal, responsible for multiple violent acts across Hell's Kitchen, has been spotted at Mount Sinai Hospital. Witnesses claim he and multiple individuals resembling him carried several women and young girls into the emergency ward, though the extent of their injuries remains unclear. Law enforcement has yet to make a statement, but sources suggest this could be related to the recent gangland massacres linked to this dangerous figure."
The screen switched to a panel discussion, where a political commentator, a retired NYPD officer, and an 'expert on meta affairs' argued over the implications.
The commentator, a middle-aged woman with pearl earrings, pursed her lips.
"This is classic vigilantism. Who is this Jack Hou, and why does he think he can operate outside the law?"
The former officer leaned forward.
"This isn't just some vigilante. This is someone escalating gang wars to unprecedented levels. And let's not forget—Fisk himself was targeted. That's a dangerous precedent."
The meta affairs expert adjusted his glasses.
"And there's something else here—his ability to duplicate himself? That suggests a high-level meta power. Possibly Omega-level. We could be looking at another Brotherhood situation."
The headline at the bottom of the screen flashed:
"'UNKNOWN META-HUMAN MENACE TAKES OVER NYC – IS THIS THE NEXT MAGNETO?'"
Cut to another station.
Fox News was running with a different spin.
"Is Hell's Kitchen under attack by a mutant warlord?"
A host waved his hand dismissively at the screen.
"Look, I don't care what anyone says—this is why the Mutant Registration Act needs to be reconsidered. You're telling me some lunatic with magic powers is now deciding who lives and dies in New York? This isn't superheroism—this is terrorism!"
MSNBC had a more subtle take.
A blonde anchor furrowed her brow.
"While the authorities investigate, one thing is clear—this situation is deeply concerning. The people of New York deserve safety, not chaos."
Everywhere. Every station. The narrative was set. Jack Hou was a criminal. And the women and girls? Barely a footnote.
But on the newly rising social media platform, Twitter…
The people weren't buying it.
=====
@truthwatchNY:
"So let me get this straight. We have a HUMAN TRAFFICKING RING operating in the heart of NYC, but the media is mad at the guy who dropped off the victims at the hospital? How the fuck does that make sense?"
100K Retweets | 350K Likes
=====
@MetaRightsNow:
"Oh, so Jack Hou is the problem? Not the gangsters, not the human traffickers, but the guy who literally SAVED these women and girls? Y'all are insane."
90K Retweets | 200K Likes
=====
@CityGirlLiz:
"Are we just gonna ignore the fact that we're literally almost in 2010 and there's STILL a fucking human trafficking ring running under New York?!"
120K Retweets | 500K Likes
=====
@WilsonFiskHateClub:
"Poor Mr. Fisk 🥺 He was just trying to launder money, move guns, and traffic people in peace 😭 Why did the big bad handsome man ruin his day? So sad."
300K Retweets | 800K Likes
=====
@BigDickVinny:
"The fact that people are unironically trying to paint Jack Hou as a terrorist while we have actual billionaires funding modern slavery is crazy."
150K Retweets | 600K Likes
=====
Twitter was on fire. The hashtag #WhoIsJackHou started trending. People were beginning to question everything. The media's attempt to spin the story? Backfiring.
…
Atop his new home, Jack Hou sat on the roof, his back against the curved tiles, watching the city wake up. A cool morning breeze rustled his hair.
A clone sat beside him, lazily eating a stolen meat bun. "So… we're the villain now, huh?" the clone mused.
Jack grinned. "Kekekeke. Guess so."
The clone waved a hand. "You upset?"
Jack tilted his head, then snorted. "Nah. This just means they're scared."
The clone chuckled. "So what now, boss?"
Jack leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. "Now?"
His golden eyes gleamed. "Now… we give them a REAL reason to fear us."
The clone grinned, tossing the meat bun into the air. Jack snatched it midair, took a bite, and laughed into the hopeful morning. But, before Jack could finish his contemplation, reality itself wavered.
A shimmering portal appeared before him, the golden-orange sparks illuminating the rooftop. The morning sun cast its gentle glow upon the figure stepping through.
Yao, the Sorcerer Supreme.
Jack and his clone, in perfect synchronization, greeted him like mischievous schoolboys. "Good morning, Yao."
Yao smiled, stepping fully into Jack's domain. His eyes flickered over the dark red crimson hanfu Jack wore. "You are stylish as ever."
Jack grinned, running a hand down his sleeve. "Well, I was contemplating a white hanbok, but I figured I'd be knee-deep in another bloodbath today, so I went with red. Can't stain red with another red, right?"
One of his clones leaned against a wooden pillar, smirking at Yao. "And what about you, old man? You afraid someone's gonna piss on you, so you wore yellow today?"
A moment of silence. Then—Yao burst into laughter. It had been a long time since he conversed with someone on equal footing.
But before he could respond—another Jack clone delivered a swift slap to the back of the first one's head.
"You dumbass, that's not how you talk to a guest!"
"Ow! You little—"
The two clones immediately descended into a bickering match, throwing playful slaps and arguing like children.
Jack sighed, rubbing his temple. "Oi, if you want to bicker, don't do it here."
The clones turned, nodded, then vanished into thin air to 'settle their argument elsewhere.'
Yao watched, mildly amused. "Is it wise to let them go like that?"
Jack shrugged. "They're adults. Let them handle their own business."
Jack gestured for Yao to follow him toward the gazebo. As they stepped in, Yao waved a hand, conjuring a low tea table with two delicate porcelain cups.
Jack grinned, taking a seat. "See, this is why I like you, Yao. You always bring tea."
Yao chuckled as he poured them both a cup. The aroma of high-quality oolong filled the air. Jack took a sip, savoring the taste, then leaned back. "So, what do you need from me?"
Yao set his cup down gently. "I came to bring you news."
Jack tilted his head. "News? What news? If it's about me being a villain, you're late. The whole of New York already ran that story."
Yao shook his head. "No. This news comes from the gods of the dead."
Jack's expression turned sharp. His golden eyes narrowed slightly. "Which ones?"
He listed them off casually, as if discussing old acquaintances. "Hades? Pluto? Anubis? Hel? Yama? Shinigami? Ah Puch? Or even some other ones?"
Yao sighed, rubbing his temple. "All of them."
Jack's brows raised slightly. "Huh. Well, that's new."
Yao sipped his tea before continuing. "They have heard your... threat. About not allowing the souls of human traffickers to rest."
Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "And?"
Yao gave him a steady look. "They want to make it clear to you—the realm of the dead is not your jurisdiction. It is not something for you to meddle in. They will not allow your threats to misguide them from their duty."
For a moment, there was silence. Then—Jack laughed. "KEKEKEKEKEKEKE!"
He leaned back, resting his head on one hand. "Man, they're so dramatic. I didn't 'threaten' anyone—I merely gave them a suggestion. They've been poaching souls from our planet for eons. They should be thanking me for my input."
Yao smiled knowingly. "Still, I would advise you not to anger the gods further. They can be... particular about their authority."
Jack snorted, waving a hand dismissively. "I do whatever I want. They're just glorified cosmic bureaucrats siphoning energy from our world like leeches."
Yao shook his head, chuckling. "You truly are a force of chaos."
Jack grinned. "And you wouldn't have it any other way."
The two of them continued their tea, shifting the conversation to lighter topics. The morning sun rose higher, casting golden light over the quiet sanctuary of Jack's new home.
For a brief moment—there was peace. But deep within the realms of the dead… The gods watched. And they were not amused.
…
Two Jack Hou clones stomped down a quiet street, their voices growing louder as they bickered like an old married couple.
"Why are you always on my goddamn nerves, man?" one clone snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"Because you still need to learn some damn manners!" the other shot back. "Yao is the Sorcerer Supreme! You don't go around cracking piss jokes at the guy who can send your ass into another dimension!"
"Ohhh, so now you're a bootlicker?" the first one sneered. "Weren't you the same dumbass going around yesterday, yelling at everyone about the 'FUCK YOU' body arrangement?"
The second clone crossed his arms. "Because your placement was off by at least five bodies! There's an artistic way to do it!"
"Who the hell cares?!" the first clone scoffed. "Kingpin still got the message! As long as he can read it from above, what's the problem?"
The second clone pinched the bridge of his nose. "And what if we went with your placement and it read 'PUCK YAOI' instead? You wanna be the guy responsible for that?"
The first clone froze. "…Oh."
The second clone smirked. "Yeah. That's right. We almost declared our love for gay hockey manga to the entire criminal underworld. Good job, genius."
The first clone turned red. "HEY! I don't even LIKE YAOI!"
"Sure you don't," the second clone said smugly.
Then—they tackled each other. A full-on street fight broke out. Punches were thrown, legs kicked, heads smacked against pavement. A trash can got involved at some point.
Until—
"OIIIIIIIIIIII!"
The booming voice of auntie Vivi stopped them cold.
Auntie Vivi stood outside her store, arms crossed, an unmistakable look of disapproval on her face. "Why the hell are you two bickering in the middle of the damn road?! You're grown men! What are you, children?"
Both clones immediately stopped fighting, standing up and dusting themselves off like nothing happened.
"Uh, morning, Aunty," one clone said sheepishly.
"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" the other added.
Auntie Vivi stalked toward them. "DON'T YOU TRY THAT SWEET-TALKING BULLSHIT ON ME!"
Before they could react, she grabbed both clones by the ear and dragged them toward her store.
"OW! OW! AUNTIE! SORRY! SORRY!"
"Not my ear, not my ear—AUNTIE, MERCY!"
Auntie Vivi marched them straight into her shop, pulling them inside like a mother scolding her kids.
She pointed at an empty section of the store near the wall. "You two—face the damn wall. NOW."
The clones exchanged horrified glances. "Auntie, please—"
"NO BACKTALK. You stand there, and you think about what you did wrong."
With defeated sighs, both clones trudged over to the corner and stood still, heads bowed in shame.
Auntie Vivi shook her head, muttering to herself. "Two fully grown men acting like goddamn ten-year-olds…"
Outside, life in Jack's territory carried on as usual. And inside—two of the world's deadliest clones stood, nose to the wall, serving their time under the absolute rule of auntie Vivi.
**A/N**
Hey guys, do you have any ideas and suggestions? Tell me about it. Anyway I see my friends watch daredevil born again, they seem to like it, I'm so FOMO but I never seen the original netflix one. Is it worth the time? Should I just jump into the new one or start from the netflix one?
~Read Advance Chapter and Support me on p@treon.com/SmilinKujo~
~🧣KujoW
**A/N**