Hong Fei arrived in New York early the next morning. The city was unusually calm, with no fanfare about the upcoming United Nations General Assembly. Its main topics—Superpowered Beings and The Foundation—hadn't been publicly announced yet. Mei and Peter had returned, though reluctantly. After fleeing the nuclear disaster, they'd almost decided not to come back at all.
Mei had even reached out to Hong Fei, hoping to secure long-term residency for herself and Peter through his connections. First an alien invasion, then a nuclear threat—not to mention the Battle of New York before that. The outside world had grown increasingly perilous, and no one could predict what might happen next. In such chaos, who wouldn't want to find a safe haven? Especially for Mei, who had a child to protect. She wasn't joking; this was a serious request. Hong Fei had come to address it.
In his mind, Peter Parker was Spider-Man. He wasn't yet, but he would be—that much seemed inevitable. It had become such a fixed pattern that Hong Fei had never considered altering it. But Mei's request complicated things. If she and Peter relocated, Peter might never become Spider-Man. Did that matter? Not really. For Mei and Peter, this could be the best choice. It would grant them a peaceful life, free from worry, under the Dragon King's protection.
From this perspective, Mei's thoughts and Hong Fei's considerations aligned perfectly: both believed they were acting in Peter's best interest. Mei was an elder, as was Hong Fei—one a slightly unusual ordinary person, the other a superpowered being with knowledge of the future. To an outsider, this arrangement seemed ideal for Peter. But Hong Fei wanted the child's input. Perhaps Dr. Cho's words—"I want to have your child"—had sparked this divergence in his thinking. When Mei proposed changing the future, Hong Fei didn't immediately agree. Instead, he asked her to bring Peter back to New York for a conversation.
Every adult had been a child once. Most had experienced moments where their parents or elders forced them into something they didn't want to do. Setting aside childish desires like avoiding school—which clearly didn't align with societal norms—a child's choice wasn't necessarily wrong. Take, for example, the question: Should one become a superhero? If posed directly, not just children—who often idolized heroes—but adults of all ages might answer yes. The reasons behind their answers, however, would vary widely: helping others, fame, money, power, longevity.
But regardless, the fact that they wanted to be a hero wouldn't change, even if they might become a villain in the future. Yet if the same question were directed at elders—asking if they'd allow their children to become superheroes—the answer might differ drastically, if not outright oppose it. And the reason would be simple: danger. No parent wants their child living through daily crises, constantly teetering on the edge between life and death. They dream of ordinary lives for their children—not because they desire mediocrity or lack ambition, but because they crave the simple assurance of their child growing up safe and healthy. We're not debating which motivation holds more nobility here. One truth remains: there's no clear right or wrong in this matter. The distinction is too blurred. The resolution requires a different approach.
After a soft knock, Mei and Hong Fei shared a brief embrace before separating. Peter came barreling out of his bedroom at the sound. The boy's face lit up with excitement, but when he saw Hong Fei's smile, his eager words caught in his throat. His cheeks flushed crimson, sudden shyness overtaking him. Mei clicked her tongue in mock exasperation.
"What's this? Weren't you just telling me all the things you wanted to say to him? Cat got your tongue now?"
Peter studied his shoes intently until Hong Fei intervened.
"Maybe he doesn't recognize me anymore?"
"That's not true!" Peter's head snapped up in protest. Hong Fei chuckled, stepping forward to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder. To Mei, he said, "I'll take him out for some air."
Something in Hong Fei's gaze made Mei pause. Her mind flashed back to his earlier rejection of her proposal. Watching Peter now, understanding dawned.
"Hong, he's—"
"We'll talk when I bring him back," Hong Fei cut in smoothly. Mei's brow furrowed with concern, but Hong Fei's steady gaze left no room for argument. She reluctantly nodded.
Hong Fei's smile returned.
"Don't worry, we'll be back for dinner."
Mei gave a small nod.
"Stay safe. Let me get Peter's jacket."
She returned moments later with the garment, kneeling to help Peter into it. As she adjusted the collar, something shifted behind her eyes—a subtle change Peter missed entirely in his excitement, unaware how this moment would alter his future.
With both hands framing Peter's face, Mei said firmly, "No sweets. No ice cream. You remember?"
The boy nodded vigorously. Rising, Mei fixed Hong Fei with a sorrowful look.
"I know you care for him deeply—you've known him longer than me. But indulging his every whim isn't kindness."
"I understand."
The concept of spoiling wasn't lost on him—even grade schoolers grasped its meaning. Mei stepped forward for another embrace, whispering against his ear, "I don't know why you refused, or what plans you have for him... just keep him safe."
Hong Fei patted her back gently.
"I would never harm him."
Their parting smile lingered as Mei watched them go. Once buckled into the car, Peter cut straight to the point.
"Sir, you've got something to tell me, right? But Aunt May doesn't seem to like the idea?"
Sharp kid—he'd noticed the unspoken tension. Hong Fei grinned.
"Clever. There is something, but it can wait. First—time to change what you call me."
"Huh?"
"Uncle."
Destiny held no power over Hong Fei. His creed was simple: man masters nature. If fate truly governed all, The Foundation wouldn't exist in this world. If Peter could really jinx his uncle to death, it would only prove that his title as Master and Dragon King was too watered down, and he would deserve to die. Peter was first surprised and then happy. He gripped the seatbelt in front of him tightly with both hands, his eyes shining brightly as he shouted at Hong Fei, "Uncle!"
"Hmm, sit tight. Let's go!"
Stepping on the gas, the engine roared, accompanied by the child's unique, joyful laughter. The roads in the city had long been cleared and repaired, and most of the buildings on both sides that had originally turned into ruins had already begun to be rebuilt. This city had already regained its vitality, and one could no longer see any of the ruins and mess from that time here.
Correspondingly, now the entire New York City government, from bottom to top, all officials big and small were underlings of Master Hong. A few of them were replaced, but most were controlled. The direct controller was Black Widow, and the top controller was the Dragon King. Sooner or later, everyone here would become his own people, and this territory would become a Han territory within Cao Cao's camp. Still the same saying: professional matters should be handled by professional people. Black Widow and her team were not proficient in how to govern an international metropolis.
If the controlled politicians were proficient in this, they wouldn't have been easily controlled. The Foundation didn't need to directly master such functions either, so the person behind the scenes planning and even truly occupying the dominant position was still someone Hong Fei had picked up while taking a walk. The future New York would be very prosperous and very safe. To be honest, this was not a change Hong Fei made specifically for Peter. Otherwise, the best thing he could do was nothing at all. God knows if the spider that caused Peter Parker to mutate would still be born in the New York of the future. Don't ask. If you ask, it's about a wily rabbit having three burrows, or dragon bones. This is not that time.
In the future, if aliens want to come again, the best place will always be Washington D.C. With such a conspicuous White House, the aliens can just bomb it. The destination of this trip was the suburbs. Hong Fei was preparing to visit that inconspicuous old man who had already gone into seclusion. No matter what his name was, he only had one nickname: Ghost Rider.
The vehicle left the main road, the road surface suddenly became uneven, and soon one could see weeds growing on the road. Peter's gaze became increasingly puzzled. If his trust in Hong Fei were a little lower, he would be thinking now whether Hong Fei really wanted to sell him out. He didn't ask, and Hong Fei naturally didn't say. The music in the car had a soothing rhythm, and the road outside the car became increasingly rugged. Half an hour later, Hong Fei stepped on the brake, and the vehicle stopped outside a wooden house that obviously looked very old.
The wooden house had weathered many storms, moss grew at the corners of the walls, the wooden fence was crooked, and the lawn inside could be seen to have not been mowed for a long time. Free-range poultry were happily walking on the lawn, occasionally leaving a pile of excrement. The warehouse not far away was equally dilapidated, but it seemed to be much sturdier than the main house. A rusty motorcycle was parked at the door of the warehouse, both the front and rear tires were flat, and some of the surrounding grass leaves had even grown taller than the seat.
"This is an abandoned..."
Peter didn't finish his sentence before swallowing it back. Because at this moment, a very slovenly old man suddenly walked out of the warehouse. He was wearing a pair of muddy Dr. Martens boots caked in black grime. His cargo pants were stained and threadbare at the knees, nearly worn through. The leather jacket bore chaotic smudges, and the cowboy hat perched on his head looked freshly salvaged from a dumpster.
Deep wrinkles carved his face and hands, each crease telling of hard years. Even his eyes swam in exhaustion so profound it threatened to spill over. From a distance, Peter saw what appeared to be a man clinging to the last threads of life.
"Uncle," he asked Hong Fei with undisguised pity, "who is that?"
"A legend who burned bright in his prime—and still does, in his own way."
Hong Fei stepped out of the car mid-sentence. Peter froze at his words, only scrambling after him when the car door slammed shut. To Hong Fei's eyes, this decrepit exterior hid a furnace of raw power. The old man might look one breath from death's door, but that was by choice. True immortality lay at his fingertips. They say nothing compares to a broken heart—but Hong Fei knew a dead heart was crueler than any grave. It was slow torture without end.
He approached at a measured pace while the hunched figure watched in silence. Peter caught up, falling into step beside Hong Fei, his pity now replaced by fascination. A flamboyant powerhouse? The description made no sense against this withered frame. They halted three meters away. Hong Fei smiled.
"You knew who I was. Knew I'd come."
The old man nodded. At first, no sound came when he opened his mouth. He strained visibly before forcing words from his throat.
"I know you. Wasn't sure you'd show."
Hong Fei nodded, then surveyed their surroundings with a sigh.
"From daredevil stunt driver to mountain hermit. That's quite the story."
The old man didn't react.
"I'd trade every chapter for blank pages."
"I get that. But men like you—reality can't sand down your edges. You'll follow your own path before kneeling to another's."
A flicker of a smile crossed the old man's lips before vanishing. His gaze shifted to Peter.
"Didn't expect you'd bring a kid."
"He's not a child," Hong Fei said evenly. "Past time he saw how the world works."
Peter beamed.
The old man shook his head.
"Still green."
Peter's face fell. Hong Fei clarified, "Not like that. He's just observing."
The old man studied Hong Fei for a long moment before speaking again.
"However you know so much about me... I also know you're no one's mouthpiece."
Mephisto's name went unspoken—the devil everyone loathed.
"If you want it, it's yours now. But I need your word." Hong Fei answered without pause, "I'll kill him."
Instantly, strange black-gray thick fog suddenly drifted into the clear sky, the sunlight was blocked by more than half in the blink of an eye, and at the same time, a gloomy power spread rapidly. The suddenly intensifying wind roared continuously, terrifying and miserable.