章 7: Chapter 7: Sudden Attack

Marvel Agency

The past two weeks had been a financial wasteland for Edward. Since completing that hair-raising gig with the three vampires, his inbox had been drier than a mummy's crypt. Sure, his past earnings provided a comfortable cushion, but the thought of dwindling funds mocked at him like a persistent mosquito.

However, his most pressing concern wasn't the state of his bank account, but the two pint-sized tornadoes currently wreaking havoc in his living room. Remember those two peculiar eggs he was fostering? Well, they'd hatched, revealing none other than the iconic cartoon duo, Tom and Jerry, from the legendary "Tom and Jerry."

YES, FREAKING TOM AND JERRY! The mammals from eggs!

Every day was an exercise in damage control. The worst part? Their immortality. No matter how many times they flung themselves from precarious heights or experimented with explosive concoctions in the kitchen, they bounced back with a mischievous glint in their eyes. Thankfully, the agency possessed a remarkable self-repairing ability, or it would've been a pile of rubble by now.

"Alright, you miniature menaces," Edward bellowed, his voice strained from repeated warnings. "Cut the shenanigans and park yourselves in front of the television. But remember, this is your last TV! One more meltdown, and consider yourselves receiving Asian mom treatment!"

Tom and Jerry, locked in a tug-of-war with a fluffy throw pillow, exchanged a sly glance. In a blur of brown and gray fur, they launched themselves towards the TV. Their landing on the sofa was a comical display of flailing paws and a near-miss with a strategically placed lamp.

Of course, the real battle was yet to begin. Jerry wanted to watch cooking shows. Tom, on the other hand, possessed a more, ahem, "refined" taste for the ladies on the daytime dramas. Their arguments, fueled by pre-toddler logic and an excess of sugar, always revolved around this fundamental disagreement.

Being hatchlings, their supernatural abilities were still in their early stages. Immortality was a given, but they also boasted impressive feats of strength, speed, and the uncanny power to create…well, mostly messes. Even these limited powers were enough to keep Edward on his toes.

This particular power struggle, however, threatened to escalate beyond a mere broken TV. As their fight for remote control dominance threatened to bring down the ceiling, Edward was forced to intervene. With a sigh, he managed to separate the tiny titans and usher them toward a peaceful (hopefully) cartoon-viewing session.

Watching them settle down, Edward couldn't help but shake his head and sigh. Hearing his sigh, Tom and Jerry turned back to look at him.

"Sure, keep enjoying the show," Edward waved his hand dismissively, the strain of repeated warnings etched on his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out another sigh. After all, it wouldn't be Tom and Jerry if they didn't stir up some trouble. True to form, the fight for remote control supremacy soon commenced.

First, Jerry snatched the remote and flicked the channel to his beloved cooking show. As he became mesmerized, Tom lunged for the remote and switched it to a fashion show filled with models strutting their stuff. Jerry took advantage of Tom's distracted gaze and snatched the remote back in a flash.

This comical back-and-forth continued for what felt like an eternity, each channel change punctuated by a playful tug-of-war. But then, disaster struck. A plume of ominous smoke began to billow from the television, followed by a sudden blackout.

Edward's sigh this time could have rivaled a hurricane. After all, televisions weren't supposed to malfunction from a measly dozen channel changes. Most electronics could survive hundreds, even thousands, of flips through the channels. Yet, Tom and Jerry, in their glorious chaos, managed to break it in less than fifteen. He felt a familiar wave of helplessness wash over him, especially considering the graveyard of broken TVs their battles had already produced.

Suddenly, a tiny tug on his pant leg drew his attention. Looking down, he found Jerry staring up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. This tactic, designed to melt the heart of any lesser being, had lost its effectiveness on Edward long ago. He snorted coldly, refusing to be swayed by their theatrics, and averted his gaze once more.

Undeterred, Jerry, now fueled by a spark of defiance, marched over to Tom, who was lounging regally in their makeshift nest of blankets, and with a mighty shove, sent the unsuspecting cat sprawling. Just as Tom was about to unleash a flurry of angry swipes, Jerry, in a display of surprising teamwork, nudged him with a pointed look. Tom, momentarily confused, leaned closer, and Jerry whispered a plan into his ear. Tom's eyes lit up with understanding, and he nodded vigorously.

With newfound purpose, the two troublemakers scurried over to Edward's desk, their eyes locked on his in a synchronized display of pleading. Edward, defeated but strangely amused by their coordinated effort, threw his hands up in the air.

"Alright, alright, you two win," he conceded with a resigned sigh, pressing his palm against his forehead. "Consider it a debt repaid. I'll get you one last, final, absolutely-no-fooling final two TVs – one for each of you. But remember, this is the end of the remote wars, understood?"

At the sound of surrender, both Tom and Jerry erupted in a flurry of happy squeaks. They launched themselves onto his shoulders, showering him with tiny, affectionate kisses. Edward plucked Tom from his shoulder and settled him comfortably on his lap, gently stroking his fur as he dialed Old Jack's number on the landline to order the promised TVs.

Before long, Old Jack arrived with the TVs.

"Ed, the TVs are here! Same gremlins fry another one?" Old Jack boomed, his voice echoing in the room.

"Actually," Edward started, gesturing toward the boss' chair he occupied with a hint of weariness, "could you lend a hand with the installation as well?"

Jack barked a laugh and turned to the towering figure beside him. "Tank, get over there and help Ed set those things up."

"Yes, boss," rumbled a deep voice from somewhere within the giant's chest. Tank lumbered forward with surprising agility for his size, expertly assembling the TVs like a child putting together oversized Legos. With a final click, he plugged them in and switched them on, the burst of light momentarily blinding Tom and Jerry.

The two troublemakers, however, weren't fazed for long. In a blur of fur and frantic squeaks, they launched themselves at Tank, pilfering the remote from his grasp with lightning speed. Before the giant could even blink, their preferred programs were already flickering on the respective screens.

"Those are…?" Old Jack raised an eyebrow, peering curiously at the cartoon chaos unfolding on the TVs.

"My… pets," Edward offered with a wry smile. "Highly intelligent pets, with a dash of the extraordinary on the side."

Jack simply grunted in acknowledgment before turning to leave with Tank in tow. The giant gave the two TV-enthralled creatures a final, amused glance before following Jack out the door.

"Alright, you two terrors," Edward started, his voice laced with mock sternness. "Now that you each have your own kingdom, make peace, understood? No more channel wars or I'll be forced to get creative with disciplinary measures."

His warnings, however, fell on deaf ears. Tom and Jerry were completely absorbed in their respective shows, their tiny forms bouncing with laughter and excitement.

Yeah, peace… peace is never an option, especially between these two.

Just as Edward contemplated the merits of soundproof headphones, the doorbell chimed, followed by a hesitant knock.

A woman, her face etched with a mixture of apprehension and determination, peeked through the doorway. "Hello, is this the Marvel Agency?" she inquired, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Indeed it is," Edward responded, rising from his chair with newfound purpose. "Are you here for a commission?"

The woman hesitated for a moment, then took a tentative step inside. "Can you… can you really handle any kind of situation here?" she asked, her voice laced with trepidation.

Edward, sensing a story far more complex than a broken TV, straightened his posture and offered a reassuring smile. "Of course, please. Why don't you take a seat and tell me all about it?"

She settled nervously into the chair, just as a prickling sensation shot down Edward's spine. Without a moment's warning, he lunged for his gun, the unmistakable crack of a gunshot shattering the air. The woman shrieked, but Edward was already pushing her down behind the table, a bullet embedding itself harmlessly in the wall where she had been moments before.

"Looks like you've brought some unwanted baggage, haven't you?" Edward muttered, his voice low and dangerous as he brandished another weapon. A hail of gunfire erupted from the doorway, each bullet aimed squarely at their position. But to the assassin's astonishment, Edward's seemingly ordinary handgun met each bullet head-on, deflecting them with an almost casual ease.

Realizing his attempt had been thwarted, the assassin wasted no time. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he tossed a grenade into the box containing his discarded rifle, the resulting explosion engulfing the entrance in a cloud of smoke. Edward and the woman watched, stunned, as the figure rappelled down the building, disappearing into the city's underbelly.

"Now then," Edward said, holstering his gun, his gaze never leaving the woman. "Perhaps you could tell me what kind of trouble you've gotten yourself into?"

(AN: I have made some adjustments, adding some humor because of Tom and Jerry. Please give me your response so that I would know if I should write it like this.)

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