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  The air ihe warehouse was still thick with tension. Jack tapped his staff against the ground, his golden eyes sing the gang members who remained after his graion.

  "Alright, listen up," Jack said, stretg his arms zily. "Now that you're in my territory, you need new jobs."

  The gangsters exged gnces, uhen—a hand shot up.

  Jack groaned. "What?"

  A skinny thug cleared his throat. "Uh, but I don't live in your territory."

  Jack raised a brow. "And?"

  The guy hesitated. "I mean… I just work here. I he money."

  Jack blinked. "What the hell does that have to do with me?"

  The thug fidgeted. "I'd rather quit."

  Jack shrugged. "Then go."

  The guy looked awkwardly at the ground. "I want to, but… I need your permission."

  Jack stared at him. Then he rubbed his temples. "What do you think this is? A school? Never mind—none of you probably ever went to school."

  A few gangsters shifted unfortably.

  Jack sighed. "Okay, if any of you don't want to work under me, you leave now."

  Immediately, a dozen gang members rushed for the door, nearly tripping over each other.

  Jack watched them go, shaking his head. "Cowards."

  Then—another ha up.

  Jack exhaled sharply. "What now?"

  The thug looked embarrassed. "Uh… I 't go home."

  Jack squinted. "Why?"

  The guy poioward a crushed motorcycle—its frame pletely totaled from when Jack had kicked the metal door into the warehouse.

  Jack blinked.

  "Oh."

  He scratched his cheek. "Didn't know the door hit a bike. My bad."

  The guy looked hopeful. "So… you give me bus money?"

  Jack let out a long, tired sigh. Without another word, he ripped a piece of paper from a sta the table. Then, toug his earring, he shrunk his staff to the size of a pen and began writing a spell.

  The gang members watched in curiosity. Jack fihehe paper up. "Alright, think of your house," he ordered.

  The thug blinked. "Okay?"

  Jack spped the paper onto his forehead. Then—he kicked him into the sky. The thug let out a fading scream as he shot into the atmosphere. Jack cpped his hands. "There. Bus money."

  The remaining gang members stared in sheer horror. Jack smiled. "So… anyone else need a ride home?" They all shook their heads violently.

  …

  Meanwhile—high above New York. The thug kept asding, his arms filing wildly. Yet… he didn't feel any pain. Instead, he was simply floating upward like a balloon.

  Then—he saw something moving in the sky. A red-and-gold streak, cutting through the clouds at high speed.

  Iron Man.

  Ihe suit, Tony Stark was cruising above the city, sing for the source of the massive golden energy spike from earlier. Then—he spotted something. A man. Floating.

  Tony narrowed his eyes. "JARVIS, is that a guy flying or falling?"

  JARVIS responded instantly. "Difficult to say, sir. But he is indeed unassisted in the air."

  Tony squinted. "That's not normal."

  Then, the guy suddenly started desding.

  Fast.

  Tony's instincts kicked in. "Shit—gotta catch him."

  He shot forward, calg the dest trajectory. But before he could reach the mahug gently plopped onto the ground, perfectly safe.

  Right in front of his house.

  Tony hovered for a moment, stunned. "…What the hell?"

  The thug sat up, blinking in fusion. Then, he looked at his surroundings—realizing he had his own doorstep.

  His face lit up. "Oh, shit! It worked!"

  Tony nded beside him. "Hey, buddy. You okay?"

  The thug jumped slightly, turning to see Iron Man standing there.

  His eyes widened. "Oh, man—Iron Man?! My kid loves you!"

  Tony nodded slowly. "Yeah, great. But, uh, you sure you're okay? You were kinda… falling from the sky."

  The thug grinned. "Yeah, I'm good! Man, I missed my girl!"

  And with that—he ran into his house without another word. Tony stood there for a moment. Then—he sighed, ping the bridge of his nose. "I hate this city."

  He turned, preparing to take off—And then—a sharp paihrough his chest.

  Tony gritted his teeth. "JARVIS… what the hell was that?"

  JARVIS responded immediately. "Sir, it appears your body is beginning to show signs of paldium poisoning."

  Tony's expression darkened. "I thought I had more time."

  JARVIS' tone remained ical. "The poisoning rate is still low, but I strongly reeurning to the penthouse for further analysis."

  Tony clicked his tosk. I haven't even had my revenge on the anime boy."

  heless, he pivoted in the air and bsted off toward Stark Tower. The golden energy signature could wait. His own survival came first.

  …

  The warehouse felt emptier now. Most of the fang members had fled, leaving only a handful of men still standing in front of Jack.

  They looked uain, nervous—but willing. Jack cracked his neck, theed his staff over his shoulders, his golden eyes sweeping over them.

  "Alright," he said zily. "Let's firm this o time. You guys wanna work under me, yeah?"

  The gangsters nodded firmly.

  Jack's grin widened. "Good. Now let's start your employment."

  The remaining thugs stood at attention.

  Jack spun his staff once before tapping it on the ground. "From now on, your job isn't to terrorize the people in my territory."

  The gangsters exged quices.

  Jack tinued, his toeady but anding. "Your job is to help them."

  One of them—the same guy who had just watched Jack kick a man into orbit—blinked in fusion. "Help them?"

  Jaodded. "Yeah. You ever heard of prote that actually protects?"

  Silence.

  Jack sighed. "Of course not."

  He paced slightly, tapping his temple. "Each of you must have at least one useful skill—something that makes you valuable to the unity."

  He turned back to them. "For example… does anyone here know how to design, make, or just generally help with tail?"

  A moment of hesitation.

  Then—a big guy with a thick scar running over his blind eye raised a hand.

  Jack tilted his head. "You? Big guy?"

  The man nodded. "My boy's always cold, so I learned how to knit. Made him sweaters, scarves, even bs."

  Jack's grin stretched wider. "Good man, good hobby."

  The big guy smiled softly. "Knitting soothes me."

  Jack cpped him on the back. "Yoing to work for Auntie Vivi as her assistant."

  The big guy looked surprised.

  Jack smirked. "You'll get paid, obviously. She needs extra hands, and you got the skills."

  The rest of the gang shifted slightly, murmuring among themselves.

  Jack turo them. "Now do you get it? If you help the unity in my territory, you'll get paid."

  Their eyes widened slightly.

  Jack grinned. "I'll talk to the shopkeepers myself to take you guys in. You work—you earn."

  One of the guys hesitated, then raised a hand. "What about me? I… I don't know what I do."

  Jack scratched his . "You walk, 't you?"

  The guy blinked. "Uh… yeah?"

  Jaapped his fingers. "Then you're on patrol duty."

  The guy frowned. "What does that mean?"

  Jack poi him. "You walk around my territory. If there's trouble, don't be a hero—just tell them this is my turf. If they've got a problem, they take it up with me."

  The guy nodded quickly. "Got it."

  Jack sed the rest of them. "Any other questions?"

  They shook their heads.

  Jack grinned. "Good. That makes things easier."

  He turoward the warehouse ceiling. And then—without warning—He leapt straight up. The moment Jack kicked off the ground, his staff extended instantly, ung him upward.

  The remaining gangsters barely had time to react—

  CRASH.

  Jack burst through the warehouse ceiling, sending wood, metal, and crete debris raining down. He shot into the open sky, twisting mid-air before nding gracefully on a nearby rooftop.

  Baside the warehouse, the gangsters stared in shock at the fresh hole in their roof.

  One of them swallowed. "…We are never getting our security deposit back."

  Anangster nodded solemnly.

  Jack, standing atop the rooftop, brushed dust off his robes.

  He took o look down at his newly cimed territory.

  Then, with a satisfied smirk, he strode forward.

  …

  Jack strolled down the main road, hands tucked behind his head, his eyes sing the fused shop owners who had gathered outside.

  Word had spread quickly.

  They had seen the golden barrier rise, heard the mysterious voice deg dominion, but nobody knew what the hell was going on.

  The tension in the air was thick.

  Jack cpped his hands together. "Alright, listen up!"

  The business owuroward him, some stepping back cautiously.

  Jack grinned. "I know you're all w what's happening in your own damn neighborhood. Lemme clear things up."

  He leaned against a mppost, speaking casually. "The old gang that ran this territory? They're gone. Done. Finito. I'm your new ndlord now."

  Murmurs ran through the crowd.

  A pizzeria owepped forward, arms crossed. "And what makes you different from the st guys?"

  Jack smirked. "For starters, I doort people."

  The business owners exged skeptical looks.

  Jack rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright, I get it. You don't trust me yet. That's fine. But here's the deal—I already got rid of the thugs who were making your lives miserable. Instead of terrorizing you, they're gonna be w for you."

  A butcher frowned. "And how do we know they be trusted?"

  Jack pulled a stack of paper spells from his sleeve, the golden inscriptions shimmering slightly.

  He smirked. "Let me show you."

  Jack turo the pizzeria owner. "Mister…?"

  The maated. "Mario."

  Jack's grin widened. "Mario, huh? And your brother's name isn't Luigi?"

  Mario squinted. "What?"

  Jack waved a hand. "Never mind."

  He led Mario toward his pizzeria's frorance, followed by a curious crowd.

  Jack held out a spell paper. "Alright, pluck a strand of hair and pce it here."

  Mario hesitated before pulling a strand from his head, dropping it onto the spell paper. The paper shimmered briefly before abs the hair pletely. Jack pressed the paper against the front door. A faint golden glow pulsed through the shop for a moment—then faded.

  Mario blinked. "Uh… what's it do?"

  Jack grinned. "This spell marks this store as yours. Let's try something."

  He turo a pawnshop owanding nearby. "You're Mario now. Walk in."

  The man snorted. "That's stupid."

  He stepped forward—And was immediately lifted off his feet. The shop asped as the pawnshop owner floated backward, pletely uo ehe pizzeria.

  Mario stared in shock. "Holy shit."

  Jack grinned. "Now, say you want someoo leave your store. All you gotta do is focus on it."

  Mario hesitated, then trated. The pawnshop owner floated backward even further, nding safely on his feet outside the boundary.

  Jack spread his arms. "There you have it. No thugs enter unless you allow them."

  The business owners murmured in amazement.

  A baker stepped forward. "And… this works for any store?"

  Jaodded. "Yup. That means you're in trol. No one harass you, no one squat in your space, and no one cim it unless you allow it."

  A wave of relief aement rippled through the crowd.

  The butcher, who had beeical earlier, finally sighed. "Alright. I'll take in one of those gangsters. If they're actually w, I don't mind."

  Mario nodded. "Same here."

  One by ohe business owners started agreeing.

  Jack grinned. "Perfect."

  As the business owners discussed among themselves, Jack spotted a familiar face.

  Auntie Vivi.

  She stood near her shop, arms crossed, watg him carefully.

  Jack grinned. "Auntie Vivi!"

  She raised a brow. "You're really turning gangsters into store assistants?"

  Jack shrugged. "Well, teically, I already turhem into human pung bags. This is just their sed career."

  She snorted.

  Jack reached into his sleeve, handing out spell papers to the shopkeepers.

  His golden gaze turned serious. "Use them wisely. If you misuse them, I will be able to tell."

  A silence fell over the group.

  Jack's tone remained light, but his words carried weight. "Just remember—if you start cheating the system, you're no different from the thugs you hated."

  The business owners nodded solemnly.

  Jack yawned. "Alright then. My job's done here."

  He turned on his heel, walking toward the main road.

  Auntie Vivi called out. "Where are you going?"

  Jack smirked over his shoulder. "Hell if I know. Wherever fun is. Also I will take the clothes tomorrow."

  And with that, he vanished into the city.

  **A/N**

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