The dozens of Iron Man suits standing nearby could only stare, wide-eyed, as the "dead" Jason slowly got back to his feet.
He... he wasn't dead?
The battlefield went dead silent. In the command room, the cheering choked and died. Every officer stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at the main screen.
Jason clenched his fists, sensing the pathetically small amount of energy left inside him. Before the upgrade, this much energy would have had his cells filled to the brim. Now, it was laughably insignificant.
The amount of energy hadn't changed, but his container had.
If the old Jason was a washbasin, he was now a luxury hot tub—his capacity was a full ten times larger. His absorption limit had jumped from 100kg of TNT to 1,000kg. One ton.
This tiny reserve wasn't nearly enough. His billions of cells were starving, screaming for more.
"Jason's not dead!"
"Fire!"
"Kill him! Fucking kill him!"
Dozens of soldiers roared, raising their arms and unleashing a volley of full-power repulsor blasts.
A cold smirk touched Jason's lips. Heh. Dinnertime.
Instantly, a faint blue aura shimmered to life on his skin as his absorption and shield activated simultaneously. Dozens of full-power repulsor blasts slammed into him.
There was no explosion. No sound.
Every last drop of energy was siphoned away, absorbed clean.
Before the upgrade, that volley would have fucking vaporized him. But now...
Heh. Barely 80% full.
With a thought, he flooded his limbs with that new, immense power. A faint blue, vapor-like aura steamed off his skin as his entire physiology kicked into overdrive.
He stomped one foot. BOOM!
The ground behind him exploded, leaving a massive crater as if a mortar shell had hit. That single push launched him, and he instantly appeared right in front of a soldier.
The soldier's expression went from shock to pure terror as the massive fist closed in.
BOOM!
Jason's punch connected with the center of the chest plate. The titanium-alloy suit didn't just dent—it disintegrated, exploding into a cloud of shrapnel and circuits. The pilot inside was pulverized by the sheer kinetic force, instantly turned into a fine, wet spray of blood and shredded meat, as if he'd been tossed into an industrial blender.
Jason stared at his dripping fist, his heart hammering in his chest.
Fifty percent power... was that strong! Fucking awesome!!!
That satisfying feeling of one-shotting these "kids" was back.
Staring at the gory wreckage on the ground, the commanders in the room and the remaining soldiers on the field were completely fucking stunned.
How... how did Jason suddenly get this goddamn strong?
They didn't have time to process it. Jason moved again.
He launched a high kick, his leg blurring. CRACK! His foot connected with a soldier's helmet. The entire head—helmet and all—was sheared clean off, sent flying.
The cross-section at the neck was perfectly flat, as if severed by a high-frequency blade.
"Pull back! Get airborne! Get some fucking distance!" The captain roared.
The remaining soldiers blasted into the sky, scattering. But to Jason, they were moving in slow motion. He launched himself from the ground, overtaking a fleeing suit, and punched through it. Another bloody explosion painted the sky.
The commanders were in a full-blown panic. "FUCK! Scatter! Everyone, scatter and climb!"
But Jason was seeing red. He was going to vent all his recent frustration. Moving at what seemed like ten times their speed, it didn't matter if they scattered. He'd just hunt them down, one by one, and end them with a single punch.
The General listened to the screams of his men being slaughtered over the comms, his face a mask of fury. He was clenching his fists so hard his knuckles were white. He was furious, but he was completely helpless.
At that moment, he finally understood the old saying: In the face of absolute, overwhelming power, all tactics are bullshit.
After a long, agonizing silence, he made his decision. "Is there any way to contact Jason? Right now?"
An officer replied, "We can hack the broadcast feed... contact his subordinate, the liquid metal one."
The General nodded and let out a heavy sigh. "Tell Jason... if he spares the rest of my men, we are prepared to offer 5 billion dollars in compensation."
"Sir! But..."
"Don't say another goddamn word! Just do it!"
"Yes, sir!"
*
Chloe, still at the broadcast point, detected the intrusion. But just like with Obadiah, it wasn't an attack. They just left a string of text.
She translated it and patched it through. "Sir, the Air Force is asking you to spare the remaining soldiers. They're offering 5 billion dollars."
Jason just smirked.
Hmph. Only after this many are dead do those pencil-pushers finally feel the pinch. But 5 billion? Are they fucking kidding? Do they take me for a beggar?
"Chloe, tell them 10 billion. Non-negotiable. And I'm keeping all the suits."
"Yes, sir."
Jason had agreed to talk, but he didn't stop moving. These bureaucrats were all slippery bastards; this could easily be a stalling tactic.
His attacks, however, became... gentler. He now only crippled the suits, punching out their arc reactors instead of blowing them to pieces.
After all, if this deal went through, they were his new toys.
Jason's reply came back to the command room. The room exploded.
"Sir, we absolutely cannot accept those terms!"
"Ten billion? That's fucking highway robbery!"
"And he wants the suits? That's a total loss of over 20 billion dollars for the Air Force!"
The General frowned, scratching his thinning white hair. He sighed. "Ten billion is ten billion. We can always build more suits. But those pilots... they are our most precious asset."
The top man had spoken. The other officers could only seethe in silence. They had been on the verge of victory, and now, somehow, they'd lost. It was fucking infuriating.
The 10 billion hit the account. Jason finally smiled and stopped the hunt, immediately converting the cash.
[Ding! Recharged: 1,000,000 Points. Total Points: 1,034,740]
"Hey, fellas!" Jason hovered, grinning. "We're all good now! Truce! Now, strip off those suits and run home, bare-assed and all."
The soldiers had no idea what he was talking about... until the order came through their comms.
...Strip the suits. Surrender.
The soldiers gritted their teeth, their hearts burning with humiliation. But Jason's power was so far beyond them... they had no other choice but to accept these terms.
Watching the group of soldiers, stripped of their armor and shivering in their flight suits on the hilltop, Jason was practically exploding with joy.
As for the pure, unadulterated hatred in their eyes? He didn't give a single fuck.
He loved it. He loved seeing them hate him, knowing there wasn't a goddamn thing they could do about it.
The rest of the crew gathered. Harley activated her power, and the entire team—along with their haul of Iron Man suits—vanished.
He had savagely beaten Iron Man, completely reversed the Joker Community's slump, kickstarted his reputation gain, and acquired a new army of suits... plus all the points he needed for his next big superpower.
This operation, Jason thought, was a fucking windfall.
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You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
500 power stones.
Top 50. All time.