The Next Day - Marvel Entertainment Headquarters
"Hello everyone, my name is Ken Kaneki. I'm from Japan," the boy smiled gently, bowing his head slightly.
He wore a stylish, layered haircut; the hair on the top of his head was pitch black, while the bangs and sideburns framing his face were stark white. He was dressed neatly in a black turtleneck shirt and a mid-length white trench coat.
Standing next to him with a highly satisfied look, Light Inksworth addressed the bustling bullpen of artists and editors. "Kaneki is the youngest member of our staff, so don't bully him."
"We wouldn't dream of it! He's such a cute kid," a few of the female staff members cooed, already completely won over by his polite demeanor.
"Don't worry, Boss. Nobody is going to mess with him on my watch," Uncle Andy said, walking over with a reassuring pat on his own chest.
Technically, Kaneki was an undocumented, extradimensional anomaly. But overnight, thanks to Alice slicing through the highest levels of U.S. government firewalls, Kaneki was now a fully legal, documented citizen with an airtight, tragic backstory designed to bring a tear to anyone's eye.
Kaneki looked a little depressed by the whole charade. He turned to his boss. "Light..."
"It's okay, you'll do great here. It's all for the company," Light said, clapping Kaneki on the shoulder to encourage him. Before Kaneki could complain further with his sad, puppy-dog eyes, Light quickly turned and fled the room.
"Haha, you might be a little uncomfortable when you first enter society, but come here. We actually have another new hire today, so you two can get acquainted," Andy said cheerfully.
As Andy spoke, a very mature, breathtakingly beautiful woman walked into the office. She had voluminous, wavy red hair, flaming red lipstick, and a devilish figure. She wore a tight, scarlet pencil skirt that perfectly highlighted her long, slender legs and exquisite curves.
The moment the woman walked in, it was as if the sun in the room had been overshadowed. The female employees couldn't help but look down at themselves in defeat, while the men practically swallowed their own tongues, staring like dogs in heat.
"Ahem!"
Andy, who had already been introduced to her earlier that morning, coughed heavily. The staff instantly snapped out of their daze and scrambled back to their drafting tables, though their eyes frequently darted back toward the redhead.
"Come here, you two. Since you joined on the same day, you should meet," Andy smiled. "Kaneki, this is Natalie Rushman. Natalie, Ken Kaneki. You'll be colleagues from now on."
After a brief introduction, Andy turned and hurried off to manage the printing department.
"I'll just call you Kaneki. How are you doing, little brother?"
Natalie smiled flawlessly, not showing her teeth. She casually twirled a strand of red hair around her finger, speaking in a soft, sultry tone that dripped with charm, like a dangerously intoxicating rose. She extended a slender, manicured hand toward him.
Kaneki felt his mouth twitch into a forced smile. Internally, he was cursing Light for throwing him into such a dangerous pit.
The woman standing in front of him wasn't 'Natalie Rushman.' It was Natasha Romanoff.
The Black Widow. A Level 10 S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent.
Light knew exactly what S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to do. Since Nick Fury was too paranoid to launch a direct assault, he sent a spy. And since Light's inner circle of trusted combatants was currently very small, he had to send his best vanguard, Kaneki, right to the front lines of the corporate office.
As long as Kaneki didn't wear his leather mask or deploy his Kagune, nobody would know his true identity. Right now, he was perfectly mimicking his 'Haise Sasaki' persona from his days as a CCG Investigator. Since the Tokyo Ghoul manga was still in its early serialization, the public had no idea the protagonist would eventually look like this. Only Peter Parker had a slight clue, and Peter was far too confused to be certain.
'Kaneki, you are my good friend,' Light had told him that morning with a totally fake, solemn expression. 'Now, the time has come for you to help your friend in trouble. Go forth, Kaneki. I believe you can defeat this evil agent.'
'Defeat her? You just pushed me into a landmine,' Kaneki thought bitterly.
Maintaining a polite, plastic smile, Kaneki politely bowed. "Well, it is nice to meet you. I need to get to work now."
Instead of stepping forward to shake her extended hand, he turned and walked quietly away toward his desk.
Natasha stood there, her hand still hanging in the air. "...Too small? No reaction at all?"
She looked at Kaneki's retreating back, genuinely surprised. This was the first time a male target had completely ignored her appearance. She had deliberately dressed to play the role of a stunning personal assistant to get close to the boss, but Light Inksworth hadn't even shown up to the orientation.
'Too bad,' Natasha thought. 'I'll just apply for other administrative positions and work my way up.'
Was the boy just too young? Had he not hit puberty yet? No, a teenager his age should be a bundle of restless hormones. Her complete failure to elicit a reaction made him stand out.
'Interesting,' Natasha mused, her eyes narrowing slightly. 'Light Inksworth personally recommended him for this job. I'll start my investigation with the boy.'
Natasha turned and walked away, her hips swaying deliberately in a catwalk strut, leaving a trail of regretful male editors and roaring team leaders in her wake.
Time passed quickly. Soon, it was lunch.
Because of the massive expansion of staff and the staggering revenue coming in, Marvel Entertainment had opened its own high-end cafeteria. Most employees ate there. However, Kaneki simply picked up his backpack and left the building.
Natasha, who had been preparing to casually bump into him in the cafeteria line, was taken aback, though she didn't follow him immediately so as not to appear suspicious.
Kaneki walked down the bustling streets of Manhattan. Looking at the prosperous, peaceful scene, his mind drifted back to the agonizing tragedy of his past life. He couldn't help but sigh. He found a quiet cafe, sat down at a small table, and gave a simple order.
"One cup of black coffee, please."
He waited quietly. Suddenly, a shadow fell over his table. Kaneki raised his head.
Sitting directly opposite him was a man wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. The man had dark skin, a strong, muscular build, and wore a heavy leather coat. He looked like an incredibly ruthless character.
Kaneki just glanced at him indifferently, then lowered his head to play with his phone.
The waitress arrived and set the coffee down. Just as Kaneki was about to reach out and pick up the mug, the man opposite him leaned forward.
The man wrinkled his nose, taking a deep sniff of the air. He spoke in a low, gravelly voice. "I smell a very strong scent of blood on you. What exactly did you eat this morning?"
Kaneki's hand paused for a fraction of a second. Then, pretending he hadn't heard anything, he casually picked up the mug and took a sip.
"Not going to speak?" the man continued, completely ignoring his own coffee. He rested one arm on the table, his other hand sliding casually toward the back pocket of his pants, where a weapon was undoubtedly concealed. His voice dropped to a cold whisper.
"That's human flesh."
Kaneki still didn't change his expression. He didn't respond. He just kept drinking his coffee, as if the man were speaking a foreign language.
But beneath his trench coat, at the base of his lower back, two small, distinct hills began to slowly protrude. His Kakuhou was activating. The faint red glow of his dormant Kagune was barely concealed by the fabric of his shirt.
The tension at the table was stretched to a breaking point. Violence was seconds away.
"Kaneki? Why are you drinking coffee all the way out here?"
A cheerful voice suddenly broke the silence. Natasha stepped over to the table. She had come out to observe the perimeter of the Marvel building and happened to spot him.
The suffocating, lethal atmosphere was instantly shattered by the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent's arrival.
The dark-skinned man immediately stood up without another word. He turned his head, staring deeply at Kaneki through his dark sunglasses for a long moment, before turning and walking swiftly out of the cafe.
"Who was that?" Natasha asked, looking suspiciously at the retreating figure.
"I don't know," Kaneki said mildly.
Internally, Kaneki breathed a massive sigh of relief. If a fight had broken out in the middle of a crowded cafe near Times Square, his Kagune would have been fully exposed. S.H.I.E.L.D. would have had the proof they needed.
His only task was to ensure the company could publish its comics stably. S.H.I.E.L.D. having an agent lurking in the office was actually a waste of their time; there were no confidential documents or alien artifacts lying around the breakroom. Light had sent him to the office specifically to act as a decoy. As long as Natasha was busy trying to find clues on an emotionless Ghoul, she wouldn't realize there was nothing to find.
'This woman,' Kaneki thought, sipping his coffee. 'Was her timing a genuine coincidence, or did she do it on purpose to test me?'
Meanwhile, Natasha had already used her eidetic memory to lock in the dark-skinned man's facial features. She planned to run him through the S.H.I.E.L.D. global database the moment she got home.
The two of them walked back to the company side by side. Along the way, Natasha tried every trick in the book to tempt, flirt, and probe Kaneki.
Kaneki remained as dense as a brick wall.
'Swing your pickaxe all you want, you aren't breaking this wall,' Kaneki thought flatly, ignoring her deliberate attempts to press her assets against his arm. 'You think showing off your cleavage is going to work? You're not Touka.'
The Loft, Chelsea
While Kaneki and Natasha were locked in a high-stakes psychological cold war, Light Inksworth was relaxing in his loft, paddling through his workload with ease.
"Master, please give an order."
Standing in front of Light was a hulking, muscular man who looked exactly like Arnold Schwarzenegger. It was the Terminator, Model T-800.
"I feel like..." Light muttered, rubbing his chin in disappointment. "...you're a bit useless."
Unlike the highly advanced T-X model Alice could potentially build, the T-800 didn't possess mimetic poly-alloy liquid metal. It couldn't shapeshift into weapons. If its organic skin got damaged, it had to manually repair it. If an ordinary person won a Terminator, they'd be ecstatic. For Light, it was entirely underwhelming.
But he couldn't just throw it away, and leaving it in the System Warehouse to collect dust felt like a waste.
"Alright... just sit down and draw," Light sighed, pointing to an extra drafting desk in the corner of the loft.
He handed the T-800 a stack of storyboards. Sure enough, because it was a cybernetic organism with absolute mechanical precision, the T-800 was a flawless inker. It could copy and trace Light's faint sketches perfectly, and as long as its power cell held out, it could work 24/7 without Light needing to waste stamina on his Shadow Clones.
Light sat at his own desk, mapping out the publication schedule.
Currently, Weekly Shonen Jump was serializing six titles: One Punch Man, Attack on Titan, Tokyo Ghoul, Naruto, Bleach, and Yu-Gi-Oh!.
Each issue contained roughly 24 pages of content per manga. By standard industry metrics, it was an incredibly robust magazine. But for Light's massive ambitions, it wasn't enough. The "Big Three" shonen manga (Naruto, Bleach) had hundreds of chapters. If he only released one chapter a week, Thanos would snap his fingers before the Fourth Great Ninja War even started. By then, he'd be burning the comic pages as funeral offerings.
He needed to increase the update speed. He planned to add a new series and reduce the serialization rate of Attack on Titan.
In the beginning, he had used Attack on Titan for its visceral shock value to pry open the American market. Now, Marvel Entertainment was an established golden brand. Furthermore, the Titan universe had a very low power ceiling. Even if the System rewarded him with the 150-meter Colossal Titan, it would be useless against cosmic-level Marvel threats. The Gacha rewards from that specific pool were too weak. He needed to pivot.
Light finished organizing the manuscript notes and passed them to the T-800 to ink. Next up, he had to figure out the new comic. Terminator was only a short promotional tie-in; it would end next week. He needed a heavy hitter to replace it.
After finalizing the publication plan, he reviewed the animation department's progress. One Punch Man was aggressively advertising online and would officially air on television next week. Attack on Titan and Tokyo Ghoul were in mid-production. Bleach and Naruto would follow shortly after.
Light emailed the entire packet to Uncle Andy.
"Ah, what a peaceful life," Light stretched, leaning back in his chair and walking out onto the balcony. Behind him, Lorna, Gali, and Alice all collectively rolled their eyes at his blatant laziness. He made his Shadow Clones, a Ghoul, and a Terminator do all the work while he took the credit.
"Since I'm idle... I might as well pull the lever."
Light felt his hands getting itchy. Gacha addiction was a terrifying affliction. He currently had 6.8 million Fan Values.
'I'll just do one 1-million point draw and stop,' Light promised himself, a lie every gambler knew well.
[Congratulations, Host! Reward obtained: The Anywhere Door.]
"..."
Light stared at the prompt. "Oh, I just struck gold."
This was the iconic artifact from Doraemon. It cost an entire million points for a single item, but it was absolutely worth it. The blinding light dissipated, and a massive, freestanding door materialized on the balcony. It had a bright pink, cartoonish wooden frame, but the actual door itself was made of a heavy, sleek black metal.
Item: The Anywhere Door. Function: When opening the door, the user must clearly visualize their destination. Otherwise, the door will lead to an unpredictable area.
Light grinned. He placed his hand on the brass doorknob and turned it slightly. As the door cracked open, bursts of pressurized steam hissed from the four corners of the frame.
Destination: Lorna's Bedroom.
A transparent rift appeared within the doorframe, cutting through space itself. Through the rift, Light could see the inside of Lorna's room down the hall.
He poked his head through the doorway. His eyes widened slightly before he quickly retracted his head and slammed the door shut, his heart beating a little faster. If Lorna found out he had just peeked in there, she would magnetically crush his spine.
"Crunch," Light muttered, clearing his throat.
After testing it a few more times around the house, a bold idea flashed in his mind.
"Why don't I go to an alien planet?" Light thought excitedly. "Xandar from the Guardians of the Galaxy movies! The scenery there is supposed to be gorgeous."
Light visualized the utopian Nova Corps homeworld, grabbed the doorknob, and pulled. The door refused to budge.
[System Prompt: The effective range of the Anywhere Door is 10 light-years. The requested planet far exceeds this range.]
"Only 10 light-years? That's a bit restrictive. Forget it, let's just find something close by."
Light closed his eyes. Fragments of Marvel movie clips flashed through his mind. He didn't even fully register which desolate alien landscape he had settled on before he turned the knob. This time, the door clicked open.
Light stepped through the threshold.
The air instantly became thin and stale. He was standing on a dead, gray-yellow planet. Dust whipped fiercely through the air, and yellow sand stretched out in all directions.
Whoosh—!
Light walked a few steps forward, his boots crunching on the dry dirt. Massive, star-shaped structures loomed in the distance, far taller than anything on Earth. But they were all broken, hollowed-out ruins. He looked up at the sky. A massive, earthy-yellow planetary ring arched across the heavens.
"Well, this is boring," Light muttered, wiping dust from his eyes. There was no beautiful scenery here, just a graveyard. He turned around, preparing to step back through the pink door.
"Yeah. This place has always been boring."
A deep, muffled, incredibly heavy voice suddenly resonated from directly behind him.
"..."
Light froze. Utter, paralyzing terror seized his heart. Cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead.
When he had scanned the area just seconds ago, there was absolutely no one there. How could someone appear directly behind him without making a single sound?
"I am curious, though," the heavy voice rumbled again, the sheer baritone vibration shaking the dust around Light's feet. "Why are you here? It has been a very long time since anyone else has come to this planet. I only come back to see this past version of Titan once a year."
Titan?!
Light's breath hitched. He turned his head slowly, his neck moving as if mechanically rusted.
A massive, imposing figure bathed in a terrifying aura came into view. And the skin of the giant was a very distinct, bruised purple.
'Motherfucker!' Light screamed internally, his eyes going wide. 'Why the fuck is that purple ballsack here?!'
_______________________________
Word count: 2941
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