[Mysteries On Marvel] Chapter 1/2/3 (Patreon)

It was a deep, quiet night.

In the icy chill of December, New York's Chinatown lay still, an unusual silence replacing the usual hustle and bustle of the streets. Situated in Lower Manhattan, Chinatown spanned over forty streets, home primarily to Chinese-American residents.

At the edge of this vibrant community stood an old three-story brick building. Inside, a shadowy figure peeked through the gap in the curtains, observing the dimly lit street below.

Chinatown's architecture was a blend of Eastern and Western styles. Flying eaves and intricate rooftops mingled with tightly packed, boxy residential buildings. Narrow streets, lined with haphazardly hung Chinese signboards, felt suffocatingly claustrophobic.

Outside, a soft hum broke the silence.
A yellow taxi glided past, its pale headlights casting a fleeting, slender glow on the ceiling before fading into the distance.

The sound of the engine receding brought a sense of relief to Eren, who lay back on his bed. Moonlight seeped through the curtains, forming a single cold beam that illuminated the dim room. Eren lay with his hands behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought.

One day ago.

Eren had been at his desk, immersed in coding for a client project, when a sudden dizziness overwhelmed him. When he came to, everything had changed—his body, his surroundings, and even his age.

After a few minutes of shock, disbelief, and confusion, he began accepting his reality. There was no other choice. He had to think quickly, or risk being thrown into a far worse situation.

When he woke in this strange new reality, he was not alone. Beside him lay a stunningly beautiful young woman.

Don't get the wrong idea...

It wasn't his girlfriend.

It was Gwen Stacy.
Yes, the Gwen Stacy—the academic star of Midtown High. Even with her golden locks disheveled, partially covering her youthful face, her radiant beauty was unmistakable. Neither Eren nor the body's original owner could fail to recognize her.

Memories—disjointed and incomplete—flooded his mind. These belonged to another Eren, the Eren of this world, with whom he now shared a name. Though fragmented, they provided enough context to help him grasp the basics of his situation.

He quickly realized that Gwen Stacy wasn't his girlfriend. In fact, they weren't even acquaintances. Their only connection was that they both attended Midtown High, an elite school.

But Gwen Stacy was the school's shining star—a top student admired by many boys, including the former Eren. By contrast, the old Eren was an unremarkable student, decent-looking but otherwise average in every way, someone who blended into the background.

Under normal circumstances, their lives would never have intersected. And yet, here they were, lying on the same bed in a shabby motel.

The situation quickly turned alarming. Both of them had been drugged with a powerful aphrodisiac designed to ignite uncontrollable desires.

If that weren't bad enough, an old-fashioned camcorder sat in the corner, its faint red light blinking ominously. The sight instantly doused Eren's drug-fueled haze.

A trap.

Or rather, a conspiracy.

With his heart pounding, Eren managed to suppress his rising panic and wrestle free from the dazed Gwen. Pressing his ear against the door, he caught snippets of conversation from outside.

"Henry, why does the boss want us to trap some kid with that chick? She's a real beauty. What a waste to let some outsider have her. If it were me, I'd—"

"Shut up, Bud. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life picking up soap in prison, keep it in your pants. That girl's dad is the precinct captain of the NYPD. If it weren't for the big boss backing us, even our boss wouldn't dare touch her."

"Exactly. Bud, don't screw this up. If the boss finds out, we can't protect you."

"Fine, fine, I get it. But why this kid? What's his connection to Chinatown?"

"He owns a three-story building there. The boss wants to expand his operations into Chinatown, and controlling this kid could give us leverage."

The overheard conversation confirmed Eren's suspicions.

Dressing swiftly, he tiptoed to the window. Calculating the height of the drop, he exhaled in relief. The second floor overlooked a trash-filled alley. A jump from here might hurt, but it wouldn't kill him.

As he prepared to climb out, his gaze fell on Gwen's serene face. If he escaped alone, what would happen to her?

Biting his lip, Eren made a decision. He locked the door, dragged a cabinet to barricade it further, and climbed out the window.

Using a nearby public phone, he called the NYPD.

As for taking Gwen with him? He simply didn't have the strength or means to get them both out safely.

Fortunately, Gwen's father's position ensured that her kidnapping quickly garnered significant attention.

(End of Chapter)

It didn't take long after Eren's call for police cars to roar through the streets, surrounding the motel where he had woken up.

After a brief but intense firefight, the authorities carried out two bodies and successfully rescued Gwen Stacy, who was quickly sent to the hospital.

Gwen was safe, but Eren, observing from a hidden spot, felt a chill settle in his heart.

Two bodies.

The police only carried out two bodies. Yet, he clearly remembered hearing three distinct voices outside the room.

If there were three people and only two were accounted for, it meant one had escaped the police's dragnet.

Eren didn't know who the escapee was, but he knew this spelled trouble for him.

Regardless of whether the group had entered the room before the police arrived, the fact that Gwen was rescued alone would lead them to deduce that Eren had escaped before the authorities stormed the building.

Considering the precision of the police raid, it wouldn't take much for those criminals to connect the dots and pin the blame on him.

When that happened, Eren's safety would be in grave jeopardy.

Two options lay before him.

The first was to seek refuge with the NYPD, claiming protection as a victim.

After all, it was his call that had led to Gwen's rescue. Eren was confident that her father, George Stacy, wouldn't hesitate to help him out of gratitude.

But was it truly safe?

Eren couldn't ignore what he'd overheard during the criminals' conversation. Gwen's kidnapping stemmed from someone within George Stacy's circle of enemies. If George couldn't even protect his own daughter, could he protect Eren?

Moreover, the precision with which the group had tracked Gwen's movements suggested that someone within the NYPD might be involved.

If that were true, walking into the police station could be like stepping into a trap.

"No," Eren muttered, shaking his head. "I can't leave my safety in someone else's hands."

Newly arrived in this world, Eren's instincts were on high alert, his sense of security almost nonexistent. Trusting others with his life wasn't an option he was willing to consider.

That left only one alternative: solve the problem himself.

But first, he needed to return home.

Unlocking the door to the old three-story brick building his mother had left him, Eren stepped inside, only to see Pepper Potts sitting on the living room sofa, wrapped in a blanket and frowning in concern.

Hearing the door open, Pepper turned, her gaze landing on Eren.

Her tense expression softened, though only slightly, as she set the blanket aside and stood up. "Staying out all night isn't a good habit. Care to tell me where you were, Eren?"

Eren froze for a moment, surprised to see her waiting. It seemed she'd stayed up all night.

A quick flash of fragmented memories reminded him who Pepper Potts was.

Pepper Potts.
The personal assistant of Tony Stark, chairman of Stark Industries.

She had been a business partner at his mother's company and her closest friend. After Eren's mother, Carrie, had passed away in a car accident, Pepper had taken care of everything—from the funeral arrangements to the handling of Carrie's estate.

Without Pepper, the vultures circling the inheritance would have stripped Eren of everything. Even the fact that he still owned this building was a rare stroke of mercy.

Pepper had also played a major role in helping Eren get into Midtown High, one of New York's top schools.

Recalling these details, Eren's eyes lit up. Perhaps there was another way forward.

He didn't hold anything back. Eren recounted everything that had happened in detail.

"What?!"

Pepper's face turned pale as she listened.

She had assumed Eren had spent the night at a bar with friends or out with a girl. If that had been the case, she would have merely given him a stern reminder to stay safe. After all, she'd been young once, too.

But Eren's story was far more alarming—kidnapping, gangsters, police raids, and death. This was no teenage escapade.

Recognizing the potential danger, Pepper grabbed Eren's shoulders and said seriously, "Leave this to me. For now, you shouldn't stay here. Come to my place for a few days."

Eren shook his head. "Thank you, Aunt Pepper, but I can't do that."

Pepper lived in a predominantly white middle-class neighborhood. While the area's security was better than Chinatown's, it wasn't impenetrable. Staying there wouldn't guarantee safety and might even put Pepper in danger.

Mistaking his hesitation for stubbornness, Pepper tightened her grip and explained, "Eren, if what you're saying is true, those people have already marked you. Staying here alone isn't safe. Trust me—just a few days at my place, like when you were younger. Once it's over, I'll bring you back."

Before she could continue, Eren interrupted, "I understand, Aunt Pepper. I don't want to put you in harm's way. I'll find a place to hide for a few days. Chinatown is big, and outsiders don't have an easy time navigating it. Don't worry, I'll be careful."

He smiled warmly. "Though I would appreciate it if you could call the school for me and explain my absence."

(End of Chapter)

Convincing Pepper Potts was no easy feat.

But in the end, Eren managed it.

The compromise was that he had to check in with her twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, to reassure her of his safety. For Eren, this was a small price to pay.

Before anything else, he needed to buy a new phone at the nearby mall—his original phone had vanished when his former self was knocked out and abducted. Whether the thugs had stolen it or discarded it somewhere, he couldn't be sure.

After seeing Pepper off in her car, Eren returned home and secured the building's entrance with its lock and deadbolt.

While Chinatown wasn't as chaotic as Hell's Kitchen, it wasn't exactly safe at night. Getting ambushed in an alley before was proof enough of that. And now, with a potential enemy after him, extra caution was warranted.

Back in his room, Eren quickly packed a few sets of clothes before sliding his bed aside and peeling back the carpet. Using tools he had prepared, he pried up a loose floor tile.

Beneath the tile lay a hidden stash: a bank card and three rolls of cash.

These were the lifelong savings of his late mother and grandparents.

Eren's mother, a hardworking Chinese-American businesswoman, had died in a car accident a year ago. With Pepper's help, the inheritance—after taxes—had left Eren with enough to sustain himself: $300,000 in savings and ownership of this three-story building on the edge of Chinatown.

As for his father, he was a nonentity. According to Eren's mother, she had used a sperm donor to avoid pressure from her parents to marry. Her choice had nearly caused a rift with her family but was ultimately accepted after Eren's birth.

Growing up, Eren had lived with his grandparents while his mother worked tirelessly to support them. Tragically, he lost his grandfather to illness at age ten, followed shortly by his grief-stricken grandmother.

The building, originally left to Eren's mother, had been handed down to him after two rounds of inheritance taxes, which had drained a significant portion of the family's wealth.

Still, Eren's assets far exceeded the average person's. With $30,000 in cash reserves at home and a building whose ground floor could be rented as a storefront, he was relatively well-off.

This wealth, however, was likely what had drawn the gang's attention.

With the cash and bank card safely stashed in his backpack, Eren restored the floor and bed to their original state.

Next, he retrieved a key from his drawer and descended to the building's basement.

The old wooden door to the basement, worn from years of neglect, resisted his efforts to open it. Only after several heavy kicks did it finally budge, dislodging a New Testament calendar from the wall in the process.

As dust swirled in the air, Eren pressed a switch on the wall, illuminating the room with a blinding array of incandescent lights.

His grandfather, wary of the dark, had once meticulously outfitted the basement with an abundance of lights. The result was almost overkill but undeniably effective.

Once the air had cleared, Eren descended the creaky wooden stairs and searched the hidden compartment in a drawer near the entrance. From it, he retrieved a pistol wrapped in oilcloth.

The weapon, a well-maintained Beretta 92F, gleamed in the light. This was his grandfather's prized possession, a gun that had protected the Lin family for generations. Stories of this pistol had been a part of Eren's childhood, passed down as a symbol of resilience.

Holding the firearm in his hands for the first time, Eren felt a surge of confidence.

With the money and pistol in hand, Eren wasted no time. He left home and rented a room at a small Chinese-run motel several blocks away.

Lying on the unfamiliar bed, Eren reflected on his eventful day.

"This life is already more thrilling than my last," he muttered, turning over.

As he reviewed his predecessor's fragmented memories, a peculiar weariness settled over him. The more he focused, the heavier the fatigue grew, until his thoughts blurred and he began to drift off.

Suddenly, Eren felt the air around him grow dense and still, an oppressive sensation that made his skin crawl.

Then came the whispers.

Maddening, eerie, and strangely alluring, the voices surrounded him as if dozens of unseen figures were murmuring directly into his ears.

No matter how hard he tried, Eren couldn't decipher the words. Instead, the whispers only intensified his headache, each syllable like a hammer to his skull.

As the pain reached its peak, the cacophony abruptly ceased. The whispers retreated like a receding tide, leaving behind an unsettling silence.

Eren's surroundings felt weightless and surreal, as though his very soul had been unmoored. It was as if he had crossed an invisible boundary, entering an unknown realm.

When he opened his eyes again, his vision was consumed by swirling white mist.

(End of Chapter)