"Hold on! Look at his hand!" Peter Parker's sharp eyes caught a flicker of white against the dark pavement. He pointed urgently at the lead contact person—the rugged man who had been barking orders just moments ago. "He's clutching something!"
The group shifted their focus. Huang Liang and the others leaned in, seeing a crumpled slip of paper held tightly in the man's unconscious grip.
Zhong Qiang didn't bother bending down. He just raised an eyebrow, and with a subtle flicker of his will, his telekinetic strength rippled through the air. The man's stiff fingers were pried apart by an invisible force, and the paper smoothed itself out as it floated directly into Zhong Qiang's waiting hand.
"Delivery instructions," Zhong Qiang muttered, his eyes scanning the scribbled ink. "It says: 'Deliver the VIP in the star-marked chest to Karu Warehouse. A handler will be waiting. Do not stop for any reason.'"
The team's collective gaze swung toward the cargo. It wasn't hard to find. Amidst the sea of standard, weathered shipping containers and cheap wooden crates, one object stood out like a sore thumb. While the rest of the illicit cargo was packed into rough-hewn timber boxes that looked like they belonged in the 1800s, this specific container was a sleek, polished monolith of dark metal. A single, perfectly etched five-pointed star sat dead center on the front panel.
In an era of GPS tracking and carbon-fiber logistics, these traffickers were still using wooden crates for the 'standard' cargo to keep costs at rock bottom. They were literally treating human lives like cheap fruit, stuffing them into airless timber boxes. But this metal chest? This was a different world of wealth entirely. The weight alone seemed to press down on the wooden pier, and the thickness of the alloy suggested it could withstand a direct hit from an anti-tank missile.
"Silly Girl, run a full diagnostic on that box," Zhong Qiang commanded, tapping the lapel of his tuxedo.
A thin, crystalline beam of blue light emitted from the chest piece of his suit, sweeping over the metal surface with surgical precision. A second later, the melodic, synthetic voice of the Silly Girl sub-program chimed in his ear.
"Scanning... The exterior is a high-grade Gold-Titanium alloy, similar in molecular density to the Mark series armor. However, there is a secondary internal lining consisting of a high-density lead-tellurium composite. My sensors are hitting a hard wall, Qiang. I can't see what's inside. It's a total blackout."
"Are you kidding me?" Zhong Qiang's eyes widened. "Gold-titanium? That stuff costs a fortune. You could build a fleet of high-end drones for the price of that box. Why the hell would you use it to smuggle someone? If they've got this much cash, they could just buy a private island and fly the person in on a golden jet."
Peter Parker scratched the back of his mask, looking nervous. "Maybe it's not a person? What if it's a supervillain? Or some kind of experimental bio-weapon? Or maybe a dirty bomb meant for the Statue of Liberty?"
"Kid, if someone wanted to blow up a monument, they wouldn't spend millions on a lead-lined titanium box to do it," Jack said, shaking his head as he circled the chest. He ran a gloved hand along the edges. "The weirdest part is the construction. There are no hinges. No seams. No keypad. How do you even put someone in this thing, let alone get them out?"
Reese Fisk stood back, his arms crossed over his chest, looking deeply unsettled. "Jack, your precinct guys are going to have a heart attack when they see this. The men in black, the wooden crates... that's a normal Tuesday for the docks. But this box? This is 'Secret Government Lab' territory."
"Xiao Qiang, can't you just... peek inside with your mind?" Jack asked, looking at the telekinetic. "Go around the lead?"
Zhong Qiang didn't answer immediately. He sat down cross-legged right there on the dirty pier, closing his eyes to focus. He projected his mental energy outward, trying to slip his consciousness through the atomic gaps in the metal. Usually, he could 'feel' the air and space inside an object, but as his power touched the star-marked chest, he recoiled.
He snapped his eyes open, his face suddenly drained of color. He was breathing hard, a thin bead of sweat rolling down his temple.
"It's not just the lead," Zhong Qiang gasped, steadying himself. "There's something else in there. A dampening field or some kind of 'dead' material. My Qi just... vanished the moment it touched the inner layer. It's like trying to look into a black hole. It doesn't just block me; it eats the sensation."
The revelation sent a chill through the group. A box that could block the Silly Girl's advanced sensors and a superhuman's mental detection was more than just a high-security container. It was a tomb.
"Hello? Anyone home?"
Everyone jumped as Peter Parker walked right up to the chest and gave it a solid, metallic thump-thump with his fist. He leaned his head against the cold alloy. "Seriously, if you're in there, just give us a sign! We're the good guys! Mostly!"
The silence that followed was heavy. No muffled shouting, no frantic scratching. Just the cold, indifferent hum of the harbor wind. Peter shrugged, looking back at the others. "Well, I tried the direct approach. No dice."
"Check the other crates first," Jack ordered, his voice tight. He gestured for Zhong Qiang to help.
Using his telekinesis, Zhong Qiang popped the lids off the nearby wooden boxes. The sight was sickening. In just the first crate, twelve young girls were huddled together, unconscious and pale. They had been heavily sedated, their breathing shallow and rhythmic.
"Bastards," Jack hissed, his eyes burning with a cold, righteous fury. He looked at the rows of crates still being unloaded. There were dozens of them. Hundreds of children and young adults, treated like shelf-stable inventory. "We're going to be here all night just processing the victims. This is too big for a local precinct."
He looked back at the mysterious metal chest. If the 'normal' cargo was this horrific, what kind of 'Important Person' required a titanium sarcophagus?
"We need the Master," Jack said firmly. He didn't hesitate, reaching for his communicator to ping Huang Wen. "I can handle the police work and the traffickers, but this box... this is out of our league. We need an expert who doesn't care about 'mysterious substances'."
Up in the penthouse, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the grimy docks. Huang Wen was reclined on a velvet sofa, a leather-bound book in one hand, while Belle leaned against him, her hair smelling like jasmine. The peaceful evening was shattered by the soft chime of his private line.
He read Jack's message, and his brow furrowed. "Human trafficking? And a metal crate that blocks Qi?"
Belle noticed the shift in his energy immediately. She closed her own book and gave him a soft, supportive smile. "Is it trouble? You should go. I'll finish this chapter and probably head to sleep. Don't worry about me."
Huang Wen leaned over and kissed her forehead, his touch lingering for a second. "I won't be long. I just need to see what kind of garbage is floating in my harbor tonight."
With a thought, his body dissolved into a swirl of golden light particles, vanishing from the room in a silent flash.
A second later, that same light coalesced on the pier. Jack jumped slightly, still not used to the Master's instantaneous arrivals. "Master! Sorry to pull you away from home, but—"
"I see it, Jack," Huang Wen interrupted. His voice was like ice, vibrating with an authority that made even the professional traffickers on the ground groan in their sleep. He looked at the rows of wooden crates, his gaze piercing through the timber. "There are so many... The greed of man truly has no bottom."
He turned to Jack and Reese, his expression hardening. "It seems my instructions for your 'revenge' missions were too lenient. From now on, don't just stop these people. Dismantle them. I want the organizations behind this to feel a fear that makes them wish they were never born."
"Understood, Sir!" Jack and Reese replied in unison, their backs straightening.
Peter Parker, seeing the legendary Huang Wen for the first time in person during a mission, couldn't help himself. He stepped forward, raising a hand like a student in a classroom.
"Uh, Mr. Huang Wen? Big fan. Huge. Anyway, I'm Peter—I mean, I'm working with Liang. We're kind of a duo now? But we have a bit of a technical hurdle. Liang's great, but he doesn't have the... uh... the organic webbing? I was wondering if you had a solution for a silk-launching device so he can keep up with me in the skyline?"
Huang Wen looked at the boy, his gaze softening just a fraction. He saw the pure heart behind the mask. "A net launcher? Simple enough. I'll have the Silly Girl sub-program interface with your tech tonight. She'll help you design something that won't jam."