"The Third Eye?" Jared asked, his voice steady.
"The third eye? You mean like the one our Lord Shiva has?" Jakuna replied, raising an eyebrow. As an Indian, he was well-versed in the mythology surrounding SHIVA, the Destroyer.
Jakuna's lips curled into a thin smile. "Alright... as I said I'll send someone to the US in a few days. He'll provide you with the things you need and will also be my eyes and ears inside the organization. This man is off SHIELD's radar, as well as the council's."
Jared didn't like the fact that he had to be dependent on Jakuna and now the first member of his group would be Jakuna's own henchman but it wasn't like he had a choice. He knew that no one would just blindly provide him with the funds and resources in a clandestine nature without getting much in return.
'I might not be able to trust Jakuna's man completely but it is still better than nothing. I have already compelled Jakuna to agree to my request by leveraging his love and obsession to protect his country.' Jared thought and he subtly nodded at the billionare.
Before Jared could respond, a knock echoed from the door. Jakuna sighed. "What is it?" he called out.
"The designer for the mall is here. Should I let him in?" came the muffled reply of a bodyguard.
Jakuna looked at Jared, seeking his approval. Jared nodded curtly. "Fine. Send your watchdog. Have him book the room I'm in right now and meet me next Tuesday at 3 p.m."
Without waiting for a reply, Jared stepped back into the shadows, vanishing from Jakuna's line of sight. The bindings on Jakuna's wrists and ankles dissolved as though they had never existed.
"Alright, let him in," Jakuna said, prompting the guard to open the door.
Jared's POV
After concluding my meeting with Jakuna, I left the hotel and headed straight to school. I retrieved my phone from my locker, relieved to find no missed calls from Aunt May. That meant Peter had handled things as planned. However, there was one missed call from Ryan and seven from Maya. I dialed her number knowing that I was going to regret doing it and might even bleed from my ears.
"Finally! Where the hell have you been, you idiot?" Maya's fiery tone crackled through the phone.
"I had some errands to run and left my phone in the locker. What's the emergency?"
"It's about the professor you asked me to look into. I'm standing outside your house. Get here fast." Maya said in an annoyed tone.
"Why are you waiting outside? Go in Peter should be home. I'll be there soon."
"You think I like basking under the sun collecting Vitamin D? I tried knocking several times but no one opened the door." Maya's tone more annoyed than before.
"Not home? He's probably at Ned's place. Alright, I'm on my way," I said before hanging up.
A cab ride later, I spotted Maya pacing restlessly outside my front door.
"I'm here. Let's head inside," I said, fishing my keys from my bag.
"No, I can't stay. I have to get to my dojo soon—I'm already late. But I found something you need to know about Professor Morris."
"Dojo?" I asked, surprised. "I didn't know you joined one."
"It's been two weeks. Some kids gave a demo, and a friend and I passed the test. Now stop stalling. Listen." She crossed her arms impatiently.
"Alright, spill." I said clearly backing out from a fight.
"Turns out Professor Morris and your dad were in the same class. They were even friends for a while. Morris left New York after high school, went to Germany, and later made headlines for developing a medicine for a rare disease. He was about to be awarded when it was revealed he'd used unethical methods during testing and falsified results to inflate success rates."
"Woah...that took a dark turn all of a sudden." I said with a surprised tone.
"But what does that have to do with my Dad?"
"I wasn't done talking Jared." Maya said as she handed me a paper clipping from years ago "The one who exposed Professor Morris's falsehood was your father. At first, Professor Morris claimed that your father was making up stories because he was jealous but your father was thorough with his allegations and provided proofs as well.
"Oh now it makes sense. That's why he has been harassing my brother so much." I said, piecing the puzzle together.
"Bingo. Your dad was also on the ethics committee and had to investigate all nominees. Morris didn't take kindly to it. He was dragged out of court screaming threats, promising to kill your father."
"Hm… that explains his grudge. But how did someone like him get out of jail?"
Maya shrugged. "My network doesn't reach that far yet. I am not the FBI you know."
"Thanks, Maya. Sure you don't want to come in?" I asked, grateful for the information.
"Nah, I'm good. See you tomorrow." She turned to leave.
As she walked away, I called out, "By the way, what's the name of your dojo?"
"CHIKARA DOJO!" she shouted over her shoulder.
A smile spread across my face as I heard the name. Chikara Dojo—the one run by Colleen Wing. While I didn't know if she'd crossed paths with the Iron Fist yet, I knew I'd need to meet her eventually. Afterall, she and the Iron fist Danny Rand are potential employees of mine and the fortune that Danny Rand is entitled to can also limit my asks from Jakuna.
Back in my room, I filled a bucket with water, plunging my clenched fists into the cool liquid. I had recently tapped into a new strength, but I knew it wasn't enough. Not for what lay ahead. I did have things that Maya just told me running around in my head but it wasn't like I could do much about it right now. I needed to come up with a good plan to get rid of this annoyance once and for all. I also wanted to look into the deaths of Jared's and Peter's parents.
I cleared my head and I withdrew my hands, focusing my will as I surrounded my fists with water. I punched the air, but most of the water splattered to the floor. My control was still far from refined.
'Not good enough,' I muttered, repeating the exercise until the bucket was empty. The floor was a watery mess, but I felt a strange connection to the liquid. The water wasn't just around me—it was part of me.
I stretched out a hand, palm open, and willed the water on the floor to rise. It shivered, then floated slightly. With a firmer motion, I lifted my hand higher. This time, the water rose in unison, forming a shimmering blob mid-air. With a smooth twist of my wrist, I gathered the water into a sphere and carefully lowered it back into the bucket.
The effort left me drained, but the progress was undeniable.
That evening, I made my way to the old docks. The decaying warehouses, long abandoned by the city, seemed like the perfect training ground. The rhythmic crash of waves against the walls masked the sound of movement—an ideal mix of isolation and white noise.
As I scouted the area, I spotted a group of addicts and dealers near one warehouse. Deciding to avoid trouble, I chose the farthest one in the corner. The peeling walls and rusted beams whispered of neglect. This was a good place for me to practice and hardly anyone would come here as it was abandoned.
Inside, I resumed my training, moving like a boxer as I worked on the water fist. Each punch felt more fluid, my strength melding seamlessly with the liquid's force. Spotting an old machine in the corner, I decided to test my newfound power.
I struck it with all my might. The metal didn't dent—it crumpled inward like a tin can crushed underfoot.
I stared at my fists, awe and unease warring within me. A punch like that could blow a man's head clean off.
I knew then: the road ahead demanded mastery, not just strength. And tonight was only the beginning. I decided to practice more not knowing that even though I decided to stay away from trouble, fate had different plans and trouble was headed straight towards me.
**
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