Against two scrawny, drug-wasted punks, Li Feng didn't even bother with sorcery. A few crisp punches and they were flat on the pavement, staring at the sky and rethinking life.
He swung onto the better Harley, kicked it to life, and peeled away. Behind him, the would-be muggers sat dazed among their empty wallets.
They'd tried to rob him. Instead, he'd stolen their bike, their last fifty bucks, and their pride. The disdainful look he'd tossed over his shoulder—calling them "pathetic paupers"—was just salt in the wound.
One groaned, clutching his jaw. "What now? Do we… call the cops?"
The other glared. Report what? That our mark beat us down, stole our stolen bike, and jacked our cash? He shook his head. Partnering with this idiot was suicide. Time to go solo.
Meanwhile, Li Feng gunned the Harley down the highway toward Louisiana, grinning as the wind tore past. At a roadside convenience store he grabbed a stack of playing cards.
By nightfall, the tank coughed dry. He abandoned the Harley in the weeds and trekked into the woods. Cool ride or not, it was stolen—no point tempting fate if the punks found their nerve. Besides, Harleys drank gas like a dragon drank ale.
In a clearing, he sparked a fire with a flick of his fingers and pulled out the cards along with scraps of magical material he'd lifted from Kamar-Taj.
Half a year in Jonah Hex's world had taught him how to form fireballs reliably, but fireball magic was still clumsy. Too weak to kill, too slow to cast, too easy to dodge. Unless the enemy stood still and waited to get hit, it was worthless.
He needed a ranged weapon. Guns were effective, but guns weren't sorcery—and he couldn't drag them across worlds. Magic tools, then.
Knives? Too suspicious. Airport security would love that. A deck of cards, though? Harmless. Lightweight, flammable, inconspicuous. Fifty-four blades hidden in plain sight.
By midnight, twenty cards glowed faintly, runes etched across them, Merlin's Circle inscribed in miniature. Fireball charms.
Li Feng flexed one between his fingers. "Not bad. Half my materials gone, but it worked."
He snapped a card at a rock. It struck and erupted in flames, leaving the stone cracked and blackened.
He grinned. Like a crossbow bolt, but faster—and with a curve to make dodging harder. The range was short, barely ten meters, but that would grow.
The math wasn't perfect. Each card consumed a third the mana of a fireball but hit harder. He frowned at the rock's fractured surface. "All right—a little harder."
Dawn came. After meditation, he jogged the roadside, worked up a sweat, and tore through two packs of jerky before his wallet begged for mercy.
Days later, dusty and worn, he reached Louisiana. His portal practice had sharpened along the way. No longer a half-minute ritual—still not battle-ready, but fast enough to run.
At a used RV lot, he spotted a private plane parked by the barn. Beyond, gleaming under the sun, something stranger—a sleek craft with lines that screamed not human. Not crop-dusting gear.
He rapped on the door, rehearsing his pitch. "Maria Rambeau? Hi, I'm Austin, we spoke on the phone…"
The door jerked open. A woman in a plain white T-shirt seized him by the throat. Her hand blazed with red-hot energy as she yanked him inside.
Li Feng gagged, mana surging wildly out of control. He tried to resist, but her grip crushed through his defenses.
"Talos," she sneered. "Next time try harder. Homeless guys on Planet C-53 don't knock politely." Her eyes flicked to his flip-flops. "Though I'll admit—solid taste in footwear."
Li Feng barely heard her. His gaze had locked past her—onto the black man in the room. Two eyes. Full head of hair. But unmistakable.
Nick Fury. Not yet bald. Not yet scarred.
Dammit. I came here for a used RV and walked straight into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s lap.
His mind raced. Carol Danvers. Captain Marvel. If she thought he was Talos, the Kree cruiser couldn't be far. And on that cruiser… an Infinity Stone.
He forced a smile. "Wait. I'm not Talos. Really. I just came to buy a secondhand RV."
Her grip tightened. Her eyes narrowed. But hesitation flickered.
And then the "ordinary" cat padded forward, sniffing at his sandal.
Li Feng froze. His blood went cold.
It wasn't a cat.
A Flerken.
Oh, hell. I'm dead.
Nick Fury had been in the field too long not to notice the way Li Feng looked at him. Recognition. Not curiosity, not intimidation—recognition.
But how?
Fury's memory was ironclad. He would've remembered this kid. Li Feng looked like a drifter pulled off a back alley, yet the familiarity in his eyes was unmistakable.
That gnawed at Fury. His cover identities were buried deep. Had someone leaked him? What faction did this stranger belong to?
He narrowed his gaze, mind running through possibilities. Li Feng didn't look afraid. Even with Carol Danvers' glowing hand clamped around his throat, the kid seemed more annoyed than terrified—like a man tired of déjà vu.
Is that his play? Cozy up to Carol? Clever, if it works.
Maria Rambeau stepped in, flustered. She had no patience for Carol's suspicion, nor for a guest dangling off her friend's glowing fist. "Sorry, Mr. Austin," she said quickly, trying to wedge Carol's arm away. "We're… in the middle of something. Another day, we'll talk about the RV. I'll even knock more off the price."
Carol shot her a warning look, but Maria pressed. "He's here for a deal, Carol. Let him go."
Li Feng rasped, nodding furiously. "Cough—just here for the RV. You let me walk, you won't see me again."
Carol's eyes narrowed. She hadn't missed the flare of energy when he tried to resist. No ordinary man carried that spark. But Skrulls didn't either. Whatever Li Feng was, he wasn't Talos.
She released him.
Li Feng staggered back, rubbing his throat, barely catching his breath when a knock rattled the door.
Maria winced. The last thing she wanted was another neighbor dragged inside by the neck. But Carol shoved her gently aside, positioning herself by the door. Fury crouched for cover, pistol ready.
Li Feng was already calculating escape. He knew what came next. Skrulls. If they walked in, Fury would never let him leave. Alien secrets weren't things civilians were allowed to know.
And sure enough, Talos stepped through.
The Skrull commander froze the moment his eyes landed on Li Feng. He reached instinctively for a scan—genetic imprint, memory probe—but nothing registered. Impossible.
Talos' throat went dry. Not human. Or not just human. First Carol. Now this? Can I catch one damn break?
He swallowed hard, muttering inwardly. All I want is to find my family. Why does this keep getting harder?
Maria's gasp cut him short. Out the window, she saw another Skrull—her duplicate—talking with her daughter.
Talos raised his hands calmly. "No need for blood. As long as you don't kill me, she's safe."
Li Feng rolled his eyes and wandered to the counter. He poured himself water, gulping greedily. After days of dry rations, even tap water felt divine. He sat back, resigned.
Fine. If I'm trapped in this circus, I'll enjoy the show. Shame there's no popcorn.
Then the prickle of danger hit him. He looked down.
Goose.
The orange tabby rubbed against his ankle, whiskers twitching.
Li Feng froze. Talos did too. The Skrull commander actually stepped back, eyes wide.
Carol laughed, scooping the cat into her arms. "What? Don't tell me you're afraid of a tabby."
Talos' voice shook. "That's no cat. That's a Flerken."
Fury barked a laugh. "Now you're telling me housecats are alien monsters? What's next, golden retrievers run the galaxy?"
The room chuckled—everyone but Li Feng. His blood ran cold. He knew Talos was right. And if Fury realized how he knew, Li Feng would end up with a gun to his head and one question: What planet are you from?
Talos wasn't finished. He jabbed a finger at Li Feng. "He knows. Look at him. He's as scared of it as I am."
Li Feng sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. I came here to buy an RV.
He lifted his glass, hiding his face. "I don't know anything."
He cleared his throat. "Excuse me. Bathroom."
"I'll come with," Fury said flatly, pistol steady.
Li Feng groaned. "What, you think I'll sprint out the window? Fine. But really? Two guys, one bathroom? That's… awkward."
Fury smirked, dry as desert air. "Just keeping you close."
But inside, suspicion burned deeper. Li Feng's composure, his knowledge didn't fit any civilian profile.
When they returned, the others were hunched around a computer. The black box from Carol's fighter was uploading its data—painfully slow. Talos looked ready to smash it apart.
Fury frowned. He didn't like Li Feng hearing more. But the damage was done.
He already knows about aliens, Fury thought grimly. What's one more secret?
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