C40: Change
[Famousness from Cornell Stokes +25]
Sitting in the makeshift room, converted from an old supply closet, Li Ran raised an eyebrow as new data flickered across his panel.
The name "Cornell Stokes" caught his eye.
It felt unfamiliar at first—hardly a headliner in the mainstream comic universe. But according to the system's metrics, the name carried considerable weight. In fact, the sheer amount of legendary status generated was even more than what he had received from Luke Cage back at Pop's Barbershop.
That made Li Ran pause.
Cornell Stokes, aka Cottonmouth, wasn't a household name like Wilson Fisk or Lex Luthor, but in Harlem's criminal underworld, especially in the Earth-616 continuity—his reputation was notorious. A former musician turned drug lord, Cottonmouth had a long history of entanglement with the likes of Luke Cage, Willis Stryker, and even minor Players like Piranha Jones.
In short, in the right circles, fame whether good or bad meant influence.
And influence meant opportunity.
Sitting back on the narrow bed wedged against the wall, Li Ran let the thought stew for a while before giving up. No need to overanalyze a system he didn't fully understand yet.
The room was cramped, barely big enough to fit a cot and a single lamp. Dust still clung to the corners, and old Spider-Man Daily Bugle clippings hung from the rafters, faded and forgotten. Still, Li Ran wasn't the picky type.
Bathed in moonlight, he lay down quietly and let himself drift into sleep.
The System had gifted him many things—superior reflexes, enhanced perception, even martial mastery rivaling Danny Rand but immunity to fatigue wasn't one of them.
And he wasn't Daredevil, either, swinging around Hell's Kitchen every night with sonar senses, nor was he the Punisher, declaring war on criminals with military efficiency.
There was no need to give up sleep to protect New York.
Not yet.
---
The next day.
After a chaotic night in Harlem, the sun rose like it always did, casting a golden glow that swept last night's sins into the shadows.
To a passing outsider, Harlem looked no different from any other New York borough. Shops opened, buses honked, kids played on stoops. But signs of unrest lingered especially around Connie's Chinese Kitchen.
The front entrance bore a jagged hole where the glass panel used to be. While Li Ran had decisively put down the gangsters who attacked last night, members of Willis Stryker's Blood Syndicate, likely backed by Tombstone's East Coast syndicate—their damage remained.
Ironically, the most obvious destruction had come from Li Ran himself: one well-placed kick had sent a thug crashing through the glass like a human battering ram.
Impressive? Yes.
Helpful? Debatable.
Replacing storefront glass that size was no small task. As a result, Connie's didn't open this morning. Instead, the staff stayed busy cleaning up, sweeping broken dishes, and re-nailing signs shattered in the chaos.
Meanwhile, Li Ran took the opportunity to visit the nearby barbershop—Pop's.
His target: Luke Cage.
"Hey, Ah Xing. Good morning."
"Morning."
Inside the shop, Father Henry, formerly Henry "Pop" Hunter, one-time prizefighter and current community mentor greeted him with a warm nod.
"So, how's it going at Connie's?"
"Not bad," Li Ran replied. If you ignored the violent confrontation, his short stint as a server had been a success. Quick reflexes, fast feet, and a helpful attitude, he imagined he would've been Employee of the Month.
"At the very least," Li Ran added with a faint smile, "Mrs. Connie was pleased. She even promoted me."
"Promoted?" Henry repeated, raising a brow.
He turned to glance at Li Ran's face and saw no signs of deception. "You're serious?"
Li Ran nodded.
"Last night, she asked me to stay on as restaurant security—protection detail. I'm no longer just part-time help."
That surprised Henry. Promotions didn't usually happen overnight. But then again, Harlem wasn't usual.
"By the way, why's the restaurant closed today?"
Henry's question came naturally, brushing away the momentary surprise.
"Some thugs stormed the restaurant last night. They wrecked a lot of stuff. The damage is still being dealt with."
Li Ran kept his explanation simple, leaving out the part where he'd splintered a man's ribcage with an elbow strike learned from a Shaolin-style card in his System.
The news made both Henry and Luke Cage who had been silently cleaning the shop window pause mid-motion.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Then Henry gave a resigned sigh.
"Kid… welcome to the real Harlem."
Even as a man who tried to mentor young people and maintain neutrality within Pop's Barbershop, Henry couldn't deny the truth: Harlem was a battleground.
"Harlem," said Luke from the window, his voice low and grave, "is where everyone's got a gun and no one's got a father."
Li Ran turned to him.
"Then why not stand up and change that?"
"Change?" Luke echoed, a bitter smile touching his lips.
He tossed aside the rag and turned to face Li Ran directly. "You don't know what Harlem's been through. I've seen it firsthand—poverty, corruption, and blood. Kids caught in crossfire. Wives crying over dead husbands. That's how Chico's father died. That's how a lot of fathers died."
He shook his head.
"Mariah Dillard's on the city council now. But she's no savior, she's the queenpin of Harlem's crime families. The one pulling strings behind Cottonmouth and Shades. The one who authorized the attack on Connie's place. Harlem isn't changing, it's drowning."
Luke's words were heavy. And true.
But Li Ran didn't flinch.
"I may be an outsider, and I've only been here a day," he said calmly. "But I know change doesn't come from sitting still. Street gangs use violence to shape Harlem. Why can't someone else shape it differently by resisting?"
"If no one tries, no one knows what's possible. If you don't dream… aren't you just a salted fish on dry land?"
The room fell silent.
Even Luke looked momentarily taken aback, as if someone had slapped him with a page from an old Captain America comic.
Henry clenched his fist unconsciously, jaw tight, his gaze on Luke.
But he said nothing—just looked.
In the end, he chose silence, leaving the decision to the man across the room.
Luke looked away.
"I'm just a janitor," he muttered, trying to retreat behind his self-imposed wall.
"No, you're not."
Li Ran stepped forward, gaze unwavering. "I can feel it. You're not ordinary. You're someone who can change this place. Who can change Harlem's fate."
Luke Cage said nothing.
But his silence was no longer the silence of avoidance.
It was the silence of thought.
[Famousness from Luke Cage +55]
[Famousness from Henry +25]
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