The Holy Master couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.
He had hoped that Shawn would agree to help him find all the talismans. But clearly, Shawn wasn't interested in that task. Still, after a moment's thought, the Holy Master came to a realization—he didn't need Shawn for all of them. If he could just obtain the Rat Talisman, he would finally be free of this cursed prison. Once unshackled, he could resume his own search for the remaining talismans.
That thought sparked renewed hope in the ancient demon, and his voice quickly turned enthusiastic again.
"My brother! Thank you so much!"
Calling Shawn "brother" so fondly, like they were long-lost family. Funny how that word never came up back when the Holy Master ruled over the world in terror.
Shawn rolled his eyes but didn't bother to respond to the demon's sudden affection. He had bigger things to think about.
"Just wait. I'll come back for you after I find the Rat Talisman," Shawn said coolly.
And before the Holy Master could even get another word out, Shawn's body dissolved into black smoke and vanished from the chamber.
The Holy Master was left in stunned silence. He hadn't even finished his sentence yet.
Moments later, Shawn emerged from a shadowed alleyway in a quiet corner of the city. The air was crisp, the sky starting to turn orange with dusk. Just as he stepped onto the sidewalk and approached a car parked by the curb, the system voice suddenly echoed in his head.
Ding! Congratulations to the host for completing the mission. You have earned one lottery draw and 10,000 system points!
A grin stretched across Shawn's face. He'd only gone along with the Holy Master's ranting for the sake of the reward. Without the system's mission, he wouldn't have even entertained the idea of helping that overgrown lizard.
He stepped beside the car and reached for the driver's door. But just as his hand touched the handle, he froze.
His body tensed.
Something was off.
A sharp glint flickered in his eyes as his demonic instincts kicked in. He turned his head slightly, scanning the area like a predator sniffing out danger.
Then he spoke aloud, his voice calm but laced with a hidden warning.
"Trust me, whatever you're planning… you've got the wrong guy. So why don't you walk away before things get ugly?"
He smiled as he stared down a narrow alley nearby.
There was someone hiding there. No—multiple someones.
Sure enough, the sound of footsteps followed. Dozens of them. Heavy boots clacking against concrete as a squad of figures emerged into the open. Black tactical gear. Steady gaits. Weapons at the ready.
Agents.
For a second, Shawn thought they might be from District 13—the relentless government division always butting heads with Valon and the others in the Jackie Chan Adventures world.
But in the very next instant, he knew he was wrong.
Because someone else stepped out from the shadows.
A woman.
Tall, elegant, dangerous.
With a single glance, Shawn immediately recognized her.
Natasha Romanoff.
Black Widow.
His eyes narrowed slightly. Of all the people he expected to show up tonight, she wasn't one of them.
First of all, there was no way she was here for him—he was still operating under the radar. Which meant…
She must be tracking someone else.
The Holy Master? Valon?
This was something new. The Marvel universe bleeding into the Jackie Chan Adventures world? That wasn't just unexpected—it was downright fascinating.
Before Shawn could say anything, Natasha's voice rang out.
"Who are you?"
Shawn's expression shifted back to a calm smile. He tilted his head and shrugged.
"Doesn't matter who I am. What matters is why you're here. Honestly… you're not supposed to be in this world."
If District 13 had shown up, he'd understand. But S.H.I.E.L.D.? This was something else entirely.
Natasha's eyes narrowed. She didn't like the cryptic tone. Her patience, already short, quickly vanished.
"Apprehend him," she said without hesitation, signaling to her team.
Two agents moved forward. One of them smirked arrogantly as he stepped within a few feet of Shawn.
"Guo Zhongguo, I advise you to stay where you are," the agent said mockingly, mispronouncing the name he believed belonged to Shawn. "Otherwise, we won't be polite."
That did it.
Shawn's expression went cold in an instant. His scarlet eyes gleamed with quiet fury.
He was a demon trying to live peacefully in the Marvel dimension—not because he was weak, but because he was trying to avoid unnecessary trouble.
But if people came knocking on his door?
He didn't run.
He ended them.
Without warning, the two agents approaching him suddenly stopped. Their faces twisted in pain as their bodies sank an inch into the pavement.
A crushing, invisible force bore down on them.
CRUNCH!
SPLAT!
With two grotesque sounds, their bones shattered and their flesh collapsed into messy heaps of meat. Blood splattered across the ground. Intestines spilled like limp ropes. The alley reeked of death in an instant.
The rest of the team froze, horrified by the incomprehensible slaughter they'd just witnessed.
What the hell just happened?
What kind of power was that?
Even Natasha, seasoned as she was, took a half-step back out of instinct. Her training snapped her to attention. Her hand reached for the pistol at her hip and raised it without hesitation.
"Who are you?" she demanded again, this time her voice edged with genuine alarm.
She didn't need confirmation—her gut told her everything. This man was not normal. He was not a mutant. He was something else. Something primal. Dangerous.
Before Shawn could answer, another agent panicked and opened fire.
BANG!
The bullet zipped toward Shawn's head.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The others followed suit, unleashing a storm of gunfire.
And then—something impossible happened.
All the bullets stopped.
Ten centimeters from Shawn's skin.
They hovered there in midair, frozen like insects caught in amber. Dozens of rounds formed a glowing halo of death around him, and yet—not a single one made contact.
Shawn didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.
The air around him shimmered faintly with dark energy. Whatever shield or power he used wasn't visible, but it was impenetrable.
Natasha's eyes widened.
This wasn't just some rogue enhanced human.
This was a walking anomaly.
Her knuckles tightened around the grip of her pistol.
"Who—are—you?" she demanded again, gritting her teeth, this time for the third and final time.
And finally, Shawn answered.
His red eyes flared with power. His voice deepened, reverberating through the hearts and minds of everyone present like the toll of a war drum.
"Moon Demon: Curse Blue."
Every single agent froze. The words didn't make sense—but the weight they carried, the aura behind them, made it feel like a declaration of war.
Natasha didn't understand what this 'Moon Demon' was or where he came from—but she knew one thing:
She and her team had poked something ancient and vengeful.
And it was too late to back out now.
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