Ice-Ice Fruit in Marvel

Jessica Jones stretched and slowly realized she was in an unfamiliar place. As her foggy memory cleared, she jolted upright. Her mind raced through fragmented recollections.

This was Ethan Hayes' home.

Pulling the blanket over her face, she let out a small sigh, but the memories of the wildness from the night before made her chuckle wryly.

"Well, Ethan's definitely strong," Jessica thought, shaking her head.

Since escaping the Purple Man's control, Jessica had used alcohol to dull the trauma, and waking up at strangers' places wasn't exactly unusual. She gathered her clothes from the floor and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Afterward, she spotted a note stuck to the freezer:

"I've prepared some sour plum soup for your hangover. It's in the freezer. Also, I made breakfast—it's on the dining table. Enjoy, Jessica."

She had no idea what sour plum soup was, but opened the freezer to find a large glass of purple-black juice sitting front and center. She took a gulp, and the refreshing sweetness immediately cleared her mind, bringing a smile to her face.

Jessica sat at the dining table, but as she looked at it, a bittersweet grin crept onto her lips. The table had been used as their impromptu battlefield last night.

Not that she minded.

The breakfast laid out—meat porridge, pickles, eggs, and sandwiches—surprised her. She hadn't expected Ethan to prepare so many dishes.

"Dammit, Ethan's still in high school, and I let things go that far," Jessica muttered under her breath, shaking her head. Luckily, she knew he was an adult. If word ever got out, her reputation would be in jeopardy.

Meanwhile, Ethan was driving his Lincoln Navigator to school, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Last night had gone better than expected.

Ethan's enhanced physique, bolstered by the Frozen Fruit, made him a match for Jessica's superhuman strength. Her long, powerful legs had almost broken him, but he managed to switch to his elemental form to recover from the strain. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to go to school today.

Originally, Ethan had planned to visit his new neighbors, the Stacy family, after moving into his apartment, but Jessica's presence had shifted those plans. He had long admired her, and last night had finally crossed her off his list of lingering desires. Additionally, the system marked another task complete:

[Destined Encounter: Face a special heroine and establish a super-friendship with her. Task reward: blue blind box (optional stacking). Task attribute: long-term, single-branch task.]

"Do you want to open the blue blind box?" the system prompted.

Ethan chose to open it.

[Congratulations, host. You have obtained the passive skill: Psychic Immunity.]

[Psychic Immunity: A passive skill that grants immunity to all psychic attacks, control, invasion, and mind capture.]

Ethan felt a surge of excitement. Who wouldn't want protection from psychic powers? In this world of powerful telepaths, the likes of Professor X or Jean Grey could easily invade someone's mind. If Professor X discovered that Ethan was a time traveler or found out about his system, he might even try to transfer his consciousness into Ethan's body.

And then there was Apocalypse—a psychic and physical threat.

Now, with his immunity, Ethan didn't have to worry about the most troublesome mental powers. Although the skill didn't directly improve his strength, combined with his ability to elementalize and avoid physical attacks, he had gained a major advantage.

"Spiritual and physical immunity… I guess my only real weakness is the Ancient One," Ethan mused. "Or maybe Scarlet Witch or Jean Grey's Phoenix Force. But I'll cross that bridge when I get there."

Ethan arrived at Star City High School and parked his Lincoln Navigator. As he walked to his locker, he noticed that someone had drawn a monkey on it. He smirked, unfazed by the taunt.

The silent ridicule from his classmates didn't bother him. He calmly collected his books, ignoring the whispers and pointed fingers.

If this was supposed to shake him, they didn't know him at all. Rage was a sign of weakness, after all. Ethan preferred to be more like a snake—waiting patiently for the right moment to strike.

Hannah approached him, concern written on her face. "Ethan, are you okay?"

Ethan smiled slightly. "Hannah, do you think I should start yelling at people to let off some steam?"

Hannah frowned. "No, it's just that they've gone too far. This is discrimination, Ethan. You should report it to the school."

Ethan shook his head. "Someone else will handle it," he said cryptically. He hated snitching.

Later, Fleischer carefully scanned the hallway before slipping into the bathroom. He had been holding it in for a while.

"Fleischer," Ethan's voice echoed from behind him.

Fleischer froze, almost dropping midstream.

"It wasn't me, I swear! I didn't do it!" Fleischer stammered, backing away.

Ethan crossed his arms, smiling. "I know it wasn't you. But you're in charge of the school, so I expect you to clean it up and find out who did it. Then, you tell them exactly what Xiang smells like."

Ethan's smile faded, and his eyes grew cold. "I want results by tomorrow. Otherwise, you might want to consider transferring. And trust me, you don't want to find out what else I can add to the toilet water."

Fleischer trembled as Ethan left the bathroom, his hands balled into fists. "Damn it!" Fleischer cursed, not at Ethan but at whoever had framed him. Everyone thought he was behind it, but he knew the truth—he couldn't stand up to Ethan.

The shadow of his last encounter with Ethan still haunted him. He hadn't been able to use the toilet at home without flinching in fear.

As Ethan left the bathroom, he was met by Gwen Stacy, standing in the hallway with a stern expression.

"Ethan, it seems your gratitude yesterday wasn't genuine. You clearly have the power to stop school bullying, yet now you're acting like the bully," Gwen said, arms crossed.

Ethan met her gaze calmly, sighing inwardly at her youthful righteousness. "Gwen, do you think I did something wrong?" he asked.

"You should stand against bullying, not become one yourself," Gwen replied.

"Gwen, do you really know me?" Ethan asked again, his tone unchanging.

"I know you're first in the class. Chinese. Ethan Hayes," Gwen said, but her voice faltered.

"Is that all?"

Gwen was quiet, sensing something deeper in Ethan's expression.

"No, you don't know me. You only know me as your classmate—the guy who's been keeping you in second place. You don't know the real me, and you shouldn't assume to. My choices are my own. If I break the law, the law will punish me, not your opinion."

"You're trying to force your way of thinking on me. That's called cognitive kidnapping," Ethan added as he turned and walked toward the classroom.

Gwen stared after him, confused. "Then who are you?" she asked softly, but Ethan kept walking, leaving her question unanswered.

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