Marvel Genesis: Daken, Chapter 9- The Throne

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SOME OF THE LOGOS, CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS ARE THE PROPERTY OF MARVEL, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Rated M for Mature

Appropriate for readers 18 and over. May contain extreme violence, sexual themes, nudity, or profanity.

Note- This series is a spin-off from Project X: The Birth of Wolverine and Marvel Genesis: Wolverine.

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Marvel Genesis: Daken, Chapter 9- The Throne

Year- 1993 A.D.

Location- Madripoor.

Ah, the smell of the city. The wide open crowd of several people, enjoying their food, the drinks, and the conversations...It was stunning to see that the people around you are full of themselves. Their smiling faces, their joyfulness, and the happiness. It’s just what I would have expected.

I came to Madripoor to meet a half-Indian and half-Singaporean, tattoo artist. You could say he’s a Southeast Asian, but to say it in short, I think that a South Asian would sound much better. I met him once when I wanted to get my own tattoos fixed. He was quite charming as you would say. He had the boldness of a strong man, the muscles, and the tenderness. But I know he wasn’t into men. However, he liked to talk about things, which involve the people around him, people who had visited him on several occasions. He had told stories to me, stories that interested me. I didn’t want to hear any of all it, to speak the truth. But it was necessary though. He had to speak out and work at the same time. He loved to do that.

The smell of the cars and the streets sometimes bothers me. I hate to say this. But I really didn’t like the smell of it. I tried to ignore it. How come these people managed to live in a place like this? There were lots of people, gathering around, taking drugs, searching for food in the garbage cans. Oh my, what a disgusting sight to watch. I couldn’t even bare it.

A group of thugs were running after some young man. He was passing me as swift as a bird. The thugs, who also had tattoos on their arms, passed me as well. I thought I could find out and see what the hell’s going on. But it wouldn’t be my business to interfere the thugs or the local gang. I only came to meet the tattoo artist.

The city was full of life. You could do anything much here. You can find a decent job, or make a deal with some gang to earn more money the easy way. But sometimes, it can be dangerous. A visitor or a resident has to be careful about it, because that person wouldn’t know what goes on the minds of the thugs. They are vicious, after all. I had met them once, and they tried to rob me. I told them that I didn’t have any money. There were desperate, you see. Yet, they still tried and tried. I had to kill them, anyway. These people wanted to live a high life as much as the people in the towers of the city. Yes, there were towers standing out, far away and you could see them. I’ve never visited the place before. I’ve heard stories that certain men tried to get up there and become rich and famous. But the police were there, the corrupt ones, or the nice ones telling the residents of the Lowtown to stay away from the Hightown. The Lowtown is where poor people live the most. Some of them walked around the streets, begging for money and the rest of the people, the thugs who organize a crime without getting caught by the police. The prostitution was involved here too and it was considered illegal.

The Hightown is where the rich people live, enjoying the celebrity status, getting known by everyone around the world. They make more money than anyone in the Lowtown. I wonder if I could make more money, just by manipulating the people around me. I could tell the beautiful ladies to provide me information about things, which I haven’t known before. Oh yes, that’s the beauty of it. Not to mention, the beauty of the Southeast Asian women out here. I can see them looking at me, smiling, giggling, and winking. I didn’t want to go out with them yet, because I had other things to do. I need to meet the South Asian man with urgency.

Speaking of the Hightown, there was one person controlling it. Yes, that person is a woman named Tyger Tiger. Everyone calls her that because she had those fierce eyes of a tiger. Yes, that’s what I would say. But I haven’t met her once. I asked the tattoo artist if he had known her. He said that he only heard stories about her, visiting the Lowtown once and making sure that everything went well. It was a risky thing to do even for a rich woman. Her real name was Jessan Hoan. She had quite a history dealing with the other organizations outside Madripoor, even though her parents were only the famous bank tellers, making the richest, Hightown possible. She had the throne to herself, acting like the queen of Madripoor. There had been situations where Jessan had trouble with powerful enemies. I don’t know how the tattoo artist knew this, but I’m pretty sure he heard stories from other people in the Lowtown. Maybe, he had contacts from the Hightown people. Who knows?

I passed the crowd of a group of female prostitutes who seemed to want me. They were just standing there, their beautiful eyes, rolling around sometimes, telling me that I should f*cked them. I looked at them for a while, and thought to myself that this wouldn’t be the best time to do it. I mean, there are other men out there, who wanted to f*ck them. Why just me? Is it because I’m that attractive? Well, I have to say yes. I’m very attractive when it comes to men and women. I recalled that a gay man wanted to ask me out. I told him that I wasn’t much interested, hanging out with the person, I’ve never met before. But he had insisted, so I had to join the fun. I f*cked him, and then he also did the same thing to me. It was lovely if you ask me. I had the opportunity to share my wildest dreams with a young man at my side. That young man, who just ran away from the thugs, seemed to look handsome. I almost missed his face, wondering what he actually looked like.

There was one guy, looking at me straight away. I didn’t know who he was. But I can tell he was more handsome than me. He wore a black shirt, almost covering himself or that he didn’t want anyone to see him. I can’t recognize his face. His face was almost hollow because he stood far away from me. I wonder who he was. I wanted to find out for sure. But I had to hurry on my way to the tattoo shop. I looked away from the handsome stranger, walking among the crowd of people, and not looking back. I can sense him, his far away heartbeat, the good smell like a flower. Ah yes, the flower that blooms in the night. I remembered it very well. The flowers back in Japan were blooming with intense beauty. Oh, how I loved the wonderful sight of it. It made me more human than a vicious animal. And then that very moment, I had met a woman with the black hair, the pink, sweet lips. Yes, it was her, my mother, my beautiful mother. She tried to say something to me. But I couldn’t hear her. Anyways, I need to focus here and get back to the point, which I had to meet my handsome, tattoo artist.

I arrived at the tattoo shop. It looked the same as always. The one place, I would expect it to be renovated and here it is the same thing, the broken pieces of the shop as if the whole thing is going to get torn apart. I approached the front, wooden door, knocking it. There was no reply. I assume that the shop would be closed at this time of hour. But I know what time does his shop open. I knocked the door again and still, there wasn’t a reply. I opened the door and noticed the blood oozing on the floor. There he was the almost, unconscious body of the tattoo artist, my friend, Arjuna Qin.

I went to him closely, waking him up. He opened his eyes, staring at me. It seems that he was attacked. But for some reason, I couldn’t smell who had attacked him. Who would ever do such a thing?

“Arjun!” I said his nickname for short. “What happened here?”

“Da...Daken...” Arjun said. “Is that...you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” I said. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

“I...I...”Arjun was trying to speak more words. I looked at his body, the wounds, were there. Someone must have stabbed him by the looks of it. He looked at me, pointing his finger towards a thing. It was a white note. I took the note and saw the handwriting. I didn’t even know who wrote this. There was no name on it, not even at the back of the paper.

“Who wrote this?” I asked him, but he couldn’t say anything. He was hurt badly. I was going to ask him more questions but my dear friend died at my arms. It was a sad thing to see him this way. I looked at the message of the note. It was the form of a letter.

Dear Daken,

I know you are here. Do not try anything foolish. I have learned who you really are and what you’re capable of. Come and meet me at the Princess Bar. I have something for you to help me.

Sincerely,

Anonymous

To be continued in Marvel Genesis: Daken, Chapter 10- The Princess.

What’s this? Daken couldn’t smell the perpetrator who attacked his best friend? Who wrote the letter? Was it the attacker? You may find out in the next chapter of Daken. Hmm, this is strange. I wonder who wrote the letter. SNIKT!

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