Chapter 8:
Mark stared at the purple aura swirling around his hand, amazed.
He hadn't expected that his Stand, Steve, could be used like this.
When Mark touched it, the Ender Hand had changed. It was like the real world and the Minecraft world had different rules, and the Ender Hand had to adapt.
In the game, the Ender Hand was simple. Left-click to punch for 6 damage, right-click to pick up and throw blocks, SHIFT+right-click to teleport.
But after Mark touched it, it wasn't just a game item anymore.
It was a real thing.
It was kind of like he'd made an impossible request, and the universe had to figure out how to make it work.
Now, the Ender Hand was a part of him.
With a thought, Mark could make his hand glow with that purple aura.
He did some quick experiments and found out that it was like an energy field. It made his punches stronger, and he could use it to grab things from a distance.
He could even teleport short distances.
"Whoa... This is awesome!"
Mark made a fist, grinning. "This is even better than the Ender Hand in Minecraft."
After geeking out for a bit, Mark tried transforming some other items.
But it turned out that not everything transformed the way he expected, like the Ender Hand had.
For example, he tried a pickaxe.
He touched it, and there was a flash of light. A pickaxe made of stone and wood appeared in his hand. But when he tried to use it to chip away at the floor, the tip broke off.
He tried a torch.
It turned into a regular burning torch.
And it didn't stay lit forever like a Minecraft torch. After a while, it burned out, leaving a pile of ashes.
Mark thought about it and realized what was going on.
Things like pickaxes, torches, and food already existed in the real world. So when they transformed, they just became normal versions of those things.
But the Ender Hand was different.
That thing didn't exist in the real world.
So when it transformed, it could keep its special abilities, like grabbing things, teleporting, and making his punches stronger.
"Guess I can't transform a glass sword."
Mark felt like he'd figured something out.
If he transformed a glass sword, it would probably just turn into a regular glass rod, because glass already existed in the real world.
Mark sighed.
"Well, time to grab a bite to eat."
He decided to take a break from testing his Stand abilities and check the fridge.
He'd figured out at a burger joint the other day that he and Steve shared the same hunger level. If Steve ate some carrots, Mark wouldn't feel hungry anymore. And if Mark ate a burger, Steve's hunger bar would fill up.
It was pretty convenient.
"Ding dong!"
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
"Huh?"
Mark paused.
He was staying in a pretty remote location. It was weird for someone to show up at his door.
Curious, he opened the door. A middle-aged man with a receding hairline was standing outside.
"Hello, Mr. Mark."
The man was wearing a suit. He smiled politely at Mark. "My name is Phil Coulson, from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. I'm here to ask you a few questions."
"Sounds like Nick Fury's keeping you busy."
Mark looked Coulson up and down. "With that little hair, I'm almost tempted to use some bone meal on you."
"...You know the Director?"
Coulson was surprised. The intel he'd received hadn't mentioned that this guy knew his boss.
"Well, the infamous Mother Fu- I mean, who doesn't know him?" Mark chuckled. "Anyway, come on in."
"Okay."
Coulson had a lot of questions, but he followed Mark inside.
He looked around the house. The reports had suggested this guy might be some kind of Eastern sorcerer, and as an agent, it was his job to gather information.
But there were no magic circles, no altars, no candles... nothing. The house was a little messy, but otherwise normal.
"Have a seat."
Mark sat down on the sofa. "You said you wanted to ask me some questions. Go ahead."
"We know about your... situation," Coulson said. "Why did you approach Tony Stark? How did you get your powers... your magic?"
"I told you, I'm a Stand user."
Mark shrugged. "It's a power I was born with. It does a lot of things. I can't even explain it all myself. It's like a guardian spirit or something."
"So why did you go to Stark..."
"I just ran into him in the desert," Mark interrupted. "I'm not interested in his money or stealing his tech or anything. He just seemed like an interesting guy, and I wouldn't mind having another friend."
"But Stark is the richest man in the world."
Coulson looked skeptical. "You're very mysterious, and we have reason to believe..."
"You don't know anything."
Mark rolled his eyes. "Have you ever heard of alchemy?"
"Alchemy...?" Coulson shook his head. "Is that like... Medusa, from Greek mythology?"
Mark shook his head. Then, with a thought, Steve, who was standing behind him, silently produced a gold ingot and handed it to him. The blocky gold ingot turned into a huge gold bar, as big as a tire, the moment it touched Mark's hand.
Coulson couldn't see Steve, so from his perspective, it looked like Mark had just conjured a gold bar out of thin air.
"Is that... gold?" Coulson's jaw dropped.
"The real deal. 99.99% pure gold." Mark placed the gold bar on the floor, and it was so heavy that it cracked the tiles. "See? That's alchemy for you."
Coulson, being an agent, had a good eye for detail. He examined the gold bar and saw that it was indeed real. He was stunned. "How... how did you do that?"
"Just my Stand ability. No big deal."
Mark smirked at Coulson's shocked expression. "That's why I said I don't care if people have money. They can't be richer than me, right?"
"..."
Coulson was speechless.
If this guy could really make gold out of thin air, then no one in the world was richer than him. That gold bar alone had to weigh hundreds of pounds, and he could probably make as many as he wanted.
"So, what do you think about Stark shutting down his weapons division?" Coulson quickly regained his composure. "Stark Industries employs a lot of people, and their weapons are top-of-the-line. If they shut down, even the military will be in trouble..."
"That's Stark's decision," Mark said. "His experience in the desert changed him. He realized that weapons don't bring peace, so he doesn't want to sell them anymore. He's a proud genius, you know... It makes sense to him."
"I see," Coulson nodded slowly.
But before Coulson could ask another question, Mark suddenly clapped his hands together. "Okay, I'm hungry. Q&A time is over."
He waved his hand dismissively, and the door swung open on its own, as if telling Coulson to leave.
"..."
Coulson looked at Mark, a little annoyed. He didn't know enough about this guy or his powers to risk making him angry. If Mark didn't want to talk anymore, Coulson would have to play it smart and leave.
Of course, before he left, he discreetly planted a few tiny surveillance devices around the house.
Mark didn't notice Coulson's little trick, but he'd already shown Coulson most of what he wanted to show. He wasn't going to reveal anything too important.
Actually, he was hoping S.H.I.E.L.D. would find him interesting. He knew that Nick Fury, the head of S.H.I.E.L.D., was putting together a team. Maybe if Mark showed off his powers a little, they'd want to recruit him.
Not that Mark wanted to be an Avenger or anything. He wasn't a hero. When he'd killed those terrorists in the desert, he hadn't felt anything. It was like they were just zombies in a video game.
He wasn't sure if that was because of Steve or if it was just him, but he didn't mind it.
This whole "with great power comes great responsibility" thing was not for Mark. He couldn't do it. He believed in taking action, in fighting fire with fire. If you were strong enough, people would listen to you.
He wanted S.H.I.E.L.D. to notice him because it would make things easier for him to do what he wanted.
And just as he'd hoped, a few days later, he finally got to meet the infamous Nick Fury.