032. Went to see the midnight screening with Gwen, and then...

The second half of the opening ceremony was much more harmonious. After the farce instigated by Dongjo, everyone had witnessed the true strength of Su Ye, the head of the dojo. The moment he unleashed the Hyper Fracture Shot, it was like a dimensional strike that obliterated any thoughts of challenging him from the crowd.

Now, everyone was focused on building a good relationship with Shiranui Dojo, hoping to send their own children here to study. There was no need to master everything—reaching the level of the legendary Foshan Shadowless Kick would already be enough.

As for themselves, they thought better of it. They were all renowned, seasoned martial artists or the top disciples of their respective dojos. Switching allegiances would be an embarrassment they couldn’t afford.

Su Ye and Mai Shiranui didn’t mind. These people were not young anymore, and their presence would be cumbersome to manage. As long as they sent their children, that was enough. The children of every martial artist and dojo in New York training at Shiranui Dojo would be a far greater advertisement than any repetitive, brainwashing commercial saturating the airwaves.

The only troublesome one was Dongjo. He simply refused to leave, claiming he was going to stay undercover at the dojo to expose Su Ye as a cheat and a fraud.

Later, when Su Ye challenged him to a one-on-one match, Dongjo stubbornly refused. “You said we fought to a draw, and I reluctantly agreed. Now, why insist on a duel and humiliate yourself? Are you a masochist?”

Dongjo sprawled lazily across the training floor, looking completely unbothered. He had made up his mind—he would never duel Su Ye again. The man was a stamina monster, and that Hyper Fracture Shot was genuinely painful. Worst of all was that elusive white marble. Until he could guarantee he wouldn’t end up as the “Egg-Breaking Prince,” there was no way he’d fight Su Ye again.

But for now, he had nowhere else to go in New York, so he simply stayed at Shiranui Dojo.

“Look at all the new students signing up today. There’s just the two of you—how could you possibly teach them all? So, out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll help you train them.”

“And don’t rush to thank me. I’m not working for free. I saw you collected a lot in tuition fees—just toss me a modest one or two hundred thousand dollars a month, and I’ll reluctantly accept.”

There might have been another reason Dongjo stayed, likely related to the system. After all, he was Andy’s teammate and close friend; he needed a reason to stick around.

Keeping him wasn’t out of the question, but some boundaries needed to be set.

“If you insist on staying, you’ll be responsible for daily physical and basic training for the students. Monthly salary: three thousand dollars.”

Three thousand dollars a month was over twenty thousand yuan—considered a middle to upper-middle income in big cities back in China. But this was New York, where the average annual salary was about eighty thousand dollars, or roughly sixty-six hundred a month. Three thousand was less than half the average.

Faced with such a humiliating offer, Dongjo was indignant. “With a salary that low, what am I, a slave? Let me tell you, an orc would never be a slave!”

“Room and board included!”

“Deal!”

Three thousand a month with room and board, and he’d secured a world-renowned Muay Thai master to teach at his dojo—a bargain beyond compare. But then, this guy had almost destroyed the dojo, so until Su Ye recouped the costs of renovations, rent, and damages, he planned to work Dongjo like a mule.

With Dongjo’s help, the surge of new students was manageable, and soon Shiranui Dojo was running smoothly.

Su Ye’s life fell into a neat routine: home, school, dojo—busy and fulfilling. He even put his nighttime Spider-Man cosplay on hold, except for the occasional emergency call from Gwen.

Being a hero had always been a hobby, and now with the dojo to focus on, Su Ye’s enthusiasm for Spider-Man waned. But the media and fans—especially those loyal to Iron Man—saw things differently.

Iron Man had just arrived in New York, and Spider-Man promptly vanished. Wasn’t it obvious he was scared?

Mockery and insults flooded the trending topics.

“Spider-Man’s hiding in his shell—should rename to Turtle-Man!”
“Iron Man arrives in New York, and Spider-Man is too terrified to even fart!”
“Iron Man shows Spider-Man who’s really boss!”
“This Spider-Man isn’t New York’s pride, he’s its shame!”

Clearly, these trends were fanned by rival camps—Spider-Man’s detractors were professionals.

Spider-Man’s fans tried to fight back, launching their own hashtags.

#AvoidingUnnecessaryConflictSpiderManIsTheRealHero
#RetreatToAdvanceFacingIronManSpiderManShowsGreatWisdom
#ThisIsTheHeroWeAdmireHisFocusIsJusticeNotEmptyGlory

Unfortunately, calm fans and rational bystanders were always the minority. Most people had already been swayed by the jeers, and those engaged in the debate were riled up.

They believed Spider-Man should stand up for the city and restore New York’s reputation.

What they didn’t realize was that Su Ye had no interest in being New York’s champion—he’d rather spend his time with Gwen.

Lately, the demands of the dojo had caused Su Ye to neglect Gwen a little. She hadn’t said anything, but her displeasure was obvious.

To nurture their relationship—and raise her affection to the point where he could come and go as he pleased—Su Ye decided to invite Gwen to the movies.

A new Chinese superhero film was showing in the States on a limited release, and it was rumored to be decent.

“‘Peach Blossom Hero vs. Chrysanthemum Monster’?” Gwen’s brow furrowed.

“I’m not trying to insult your country’s superhero films, but just hearing that title makes it sound like a total flop!”

Su Ye scratched his head—there wasn’t much choice. The only other new releases were heavy art films. If they didn’t see this, would they just nap through a dreary art house screening?

Wait a minute! Could it be…

Suddenly, Su Ye caught Gwen’s drift. Instead of watching a trashy movie, maybe she’d prefer a midnight art film—sleeping in every sense of the word.

But… the first time in a movie theater? Weren’t there rumors that many cinemas had infrared cameras? They might end up as a live broadcast!

Gwen produced two tickets with a flourish. “The Stark Industries Expo opens tonight. Let’s go to the opening ceremony together!”