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A Rider Kick in Marvel Rewrite Ch 5
🕑 Added 2025-02-11 14:54:10 +0000 UTCIt is late at night in the City of New York, yet the urban landscape remains vibrant and restless. In the suburban corners, small groups of young men gather, their shadows blending with the dim streetlights. Nearby bars hum with the sounds of conversation and clinking glasses, while automobiles navigate the bustling streets.
Occasionally, the distant wail of police sirens cut through the night's ambient noise, a reminder of the city's constant pulse and underlying tension. The metropolis breathed with a life of its own, never truly sleeping, always moving, always alive.
In the shadowy depths of a narrow New York alleyway, a drunken man swayed unsteadily. The stench of alcohol and vomit hung in the air, evidence of his excessive drinking. He had just emptied the contents of his stomach beside a rusted dumpster, his movements uncoordinated and clumsy.
"Uhh..." he mumbled, attempting to regain his balance.
As he stumbled forward, a figure emerged at the far end of the alley. The dim lighting made it difficult for the intoxicated man to discern the stranger's features. Something about the silhouette felt unnervingly still, watching him with an intense, predatory gaze.
"Why don't you walk away and mind your own business," the drunk slurred, a hint of aggression in his voice.
The mysterious figure continued advancing, each step measured and deliberate. Sensing danger, the drunk reached for his weapon—a small pistol tucked into his waistband. His hands trembled slightly as he raised it, attempting to appear threatening.
"Hey, I'm warning you," he growled, the gun wavering in his unsteady grip.
Before he could react, the stranger moved with impossible speed. In a blur of motion, powerful hands seized the drunk's throat, effortlessly disarming him. The gun clattered to the ground, forgotten.
Where a human had stood moments before, a monstrous creature now loomed. Xu·Nezuma·Da, the Rat Grongi, revealed its true form—a nightmarish fusion of rat and humanoid. Fur-covered skin stretched over a muscular frame, bead-like eyes gleaming with predatory intelligence. Elongated limbs and a serpentine tail completed its terrifying transformation.
Sharp claws pierced the drunk's neck with surgical precision. Blood erupted from the wound, painting the alley's grimy walls. The Grongi effortlessly tossed the lifeless body aside, a casual display of superhuman strength.
"(That's eight...)" the creature muttered in the guttural Gurongi language.
With inhuman agility, Xu·Nezuma·Da scaled the alley walls, its movements fluid and spider-like. Within seconds, it vanished into the urban darkness, leaving behind only a fresh crime scene.
Sometime later, a woman's horrified scream shattered the night's silence. She had discovered the brutalized corpse and immediately contacted the authorities.
Hours later, the police arrived at the crime scene, carefully cordoning off the area and initiating their investigation. Two officers stood near the victim, their voices low and uncertain.
"What could have happened to this man?" one officer muttered, his gaze fixed on the gruesome scene.
"These wounds... they don't look like typical knife injuries," his partner observed, studying the distinctive puncture marks with a mixture of confusion and professional detachment.
Captain George Stacy soon arrived, his commanding presence immediately drawing attention. A tall, broad-shouldered man in his late 40s, he carried himself with the weight of years of law enforcement experience. His graying hair was neatly combed, and his weathered face spoke of countless investigations and hard-earned wisdom.
"Report," George demanded, his voice firm yet controlled.
"Captain, we have another murder," the younger officer explained. "The victim was stabbed in the neck, but the wound characteristics are... unusual. Not consistent with standard bladed weapons."
George's experienced eyes scanned the crime scene. "Security footage?"
"Limited," the officer responded. "We only have footage of the victim entering the alley. No sign of the perpetrator."
Examining the lifeless body, George's expression hardened. "This is the eighth such incident this week. We may be dealing with a serial killer." His tone carried a blend of professional concern and personal determination.
"Understood, sir. We'll have the full report on your desk immediately."
George nodded and left the crime scene. Beyond the police tape, curious onlookers craned their necks, some discreetly snapping photos with their phones. A local news crew approached, their camera trained on the seasoned police captain.
"Captain Stacy, can you comment on the recent murder?" the reporter asked.
George met her gaze. "The NYPD is already actively investigating. We're committed to finding and apprehending the individual responsible for these crimes."
George leaves without responding to any more questions.
…
It was another ordinary day at Café Pole Pole. Ace moved between tables, serving customers with his usual efficiency. In the corner of the café, a small television played the evening news.
"Another brutal murder has shocked New York City," the journalist announced, his voice tense and professional. "The eighth victim has been found dead in an alleyway, and the police investigation remains ongoing."
Pops paused in his task of wiping a coffee mug. The screen zoomed in on the crime scene, showing police officers carefully collecting evidence. Large, distinctive wounds marked the victim's neck—puncture holes that suggested something far from an ordinary attack.
"Eyewitness reports continue to describe a bizarre figure fleeing crime scenes," the reporter continued, "Multiple witnesses have described a creature that is part-human, part-animal, covered in fur, seen scaling walls and vanishing from the scene."
The camera cut to grainy surveillance footage. A shadowy silhouette moved with impossible fluidity, scaling a wall with serpentine grace. The image was blurry, but the creature's unnatural movement was unmistakable.
Pops set down the mug, a chill running down his spine.
"These murders are quite disturbing. Wouldn't you agree, Ace?" Pops said, his voice tinged with concern.
Ace nodded absently, "Yes..."
"Something troubling you?" Pops inquired, noting the young man's distracted demeanor.
"Huh? Oh, nothing," Ace replied, continuing to serve customers. Yet the description of the perpetrator nagged at the edges of his consciousness.
A series of thoughts raced through his mind. 'This sounds like the work of a monster. Could it really be? If I'm here in this universe, then it's possible... and if I'm here, Dai-Shocker could be here too.'
The mere possibility of Dai-Shocker emerging in this universe sent a chill down Ace's spine. A fleeting image of Dark Kiva danced across his thoughts, but he quickly pushed it aside.
"Pops, do you think I could have the rest of the day off?" Ace asked, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency.
Pops looked up from wiping a mug, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Do you have something important to do?"
"Yes, there's something I want to investigate," Ace replied, his tone serious yet measured.
Pops studied him for a moment before nodding. "Hmm, well, alright. Just make sure to return before we close. I don't want to close the shop without you."
"Yes, thank you, Pops," Ace said with a grateful smile.
He carefully removed his apron, hanging it on the wall. He exited Café Pole Pole, his mind already racing with possibilities. The recent murders nagged at his consciousness—if a monster was responsible, he was determined to stop it. As a Kamen Rider, he felt a deep sense of responsibility to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
