Chapter 104: Are We Still Playing?
Global Defense Agency.
The lights were deathly white, making the entire command center look like a massive operating room.
Cecil sat behind his desk and took the report Donaldhanded him.
His fingers lightly rubbed the edge of the document, a habitual movement when he was thinking.
This habit had stayed with him for decades, starting back when he was still on the battlefield.
"Invincible is back?"
His voice was calm, devoid of any emotion.
"Yes, just an hour ago."
Donald stood beside him, his tone equally steady.
Here, time was precious; time needed to be precise.
Every second could mean life or death, disaster, or the continuation or end of human civilization.
Cecil flipped open the report.
The first page was a photo of Mark.
That young face bore a faint smile, and his black eyes seemed to hide a sea of stars.
He was wearing casual clothes that couldn't be more ordinary, standing at the entrance of the Grayson family.
The second page was a photo of someone else.
A tall woman with sharp features and a spirited beauty.
She stood next to Mark, also smiling, a bright and natural smile.
With Cecil's memory, he naturally knew—
This person had never appeared by Mark's side before.
His finger tapped on the photo.
"What is the physical assessment of this female?"
He didn't wait for Donald to hand over the report, asking the question directly.
Donald was silent for a moment.
Not out of hesitation, but to weigh his words.
"Very strong."
Ultimately, he uttered those words.
Cecil looked up at him.
Donald continued:
"Physical fitness reached three times that of Immortal."
He paused.
"Almost equivalent to Mark when he first awakened."
Hiss—
Cecil sucked in a breath of cold air.
That sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet command center.
Having one Nolan Grayson was already hard enough to handle.
He was a monster capable of tearing through the Global Defense Force alone.
Adding a Mark Grayson made it even harder.
He was a young man with potential even more terrifying than Nolan's.
If at this time, another one came along—
Then is Earth even still in the game?
Regardless, he was out of moves.
Cecil rubbed his face vigorously with his hands.
The movement was heavy, as if he wanted to rub away all the fatigue and anxiety.
After rubbing for a few seconds, he lowered his hands, his face returning to that calm, almost cold expression.
"Get me the surveillance."
He said.
"I want to see their living situation right now."
Donald nodded.
His fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard, and a few seconds later, an image appeared on the main screen.
It was an ordinary neighborhood.
The Grayson's yard, a white fence, a neatly trimmed lawn.
Everything was so peaceful, so normal, no different from countless families on Earth.
The surveillance wasn't installed inside Mark's house.
The terrifying perception of a Viltrum was a sort of mystical sixth sense.
Any peeping could be sensed, any surveillance could be discovered.
So this surveillance only monitored the situation outside the yard; through the window, one could vaguely see the light and shadows inside the house.
Just then—
The door opened.
A figure walked out of the house.
It was that woman.
She was wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans, her hair casually tied back.
She was carrying a black trash bag, clearly out to take out the trash.
Cecil's gaze was tightly locked on her.
He watched the woman walk to the trash can and throw the bag in.
Then—
She suddenly froze.
Next, she turned her head.
Her gaze looked straight in the direction of the surveillance camera.
"!!!"
Cecil's pupils constricted violently!
Those eyes stared at him just like that, calmly.
No confusion.
No suspicion.
Only certainty.
As if she had known all along that a pair of eyes was watching her, as if she were making eye contact with that person through the screen.
At this moment, Cecil was like Joseph Joestar from JoJo being discovered by Dio during a spirit photography session!
That feeling of being stared back at by the prey made the hair all over his body stand on end!
"This person..."
He murmured in disbelief.
The next second—
The woman raised her hand.
In her palm, a silver light began to condense!
The light grew brighter and more solid, finally transforming into a silver dagger!
The dagger glinted coldly in the sunlight, its edge so sharp it seemed capable of cutting through anything!
She gripped the dagger and gave it a light flick—
*Whoosh!*
The silver light sliced through the air!
*Bang!*
The surveillance screen instantly turned into static!
Cecil slumped powerlessly into his seat.
He looked at the static on the screen, silent for a long time.
"She possesses other special abilities too..."
His voice was hoarse and weary.
"How are we supposed to deal with this?"
At this moment, the Director of the Global Defense Agency felt utterly powerless.
Cecil suddenly spoke.
"I'm here, Sir."
Donald's voice came from behind, still calm.
"I will always be by your side."
Cecil nodded.
"Yeah, I know."
He said.
"I know you'll always be by my side."
He paused.
"Tell me, will Mark help me?"
Donald was silent for a second.
"Isn't he the future Omni-Man you personally designated?"
His tone carried a hint of confusion.
Cecil smiled bitterly.
That smile looked exceptionally bleak under the deathly white lights.
"Yeah."
He said.
"He is the future human Omni-Man I specifically chose."
He looked up at the static on the screen.
"But that's the future, Donald."
"He isn't right now."
His voice became low.
"Between all of humanity and his own biological father, his wonderful family—"
"What kind of choice will he ultimately make?"
"I can't guarantee it at all."
He stood up and walked to the window.
Outside the window was the New York night scene, a sea of lights and bustling traffic.
The lives of those ordinary people, the lives he swore to protect, were currently sleeping soundly in their own little bubbles of happiness.
They didn't know that a pair of eyes was gazing at them.
They didn't know that a terrifying truth was approaching.
"Our equipment can't handle three Viltrums."
Cecil's voice was very soft.
In that softness was an indescribable helplessness.
Donald didn't speak.
He just stood behind Cecil like a statue.
Silence.
A long silence.
A few seconds later—
Cecil turned around.
His gaze became firm once again.
That firmness was like steel, like rock, like the spark that has never gone out when humanity faces desperation for thousands of years.
"I will go talk to Mark personally."
He said.
"For humanity, I'll do anything."
He paused.
"Even if it's just for that slim chance."
He pressed the teleportation device in his hand.
Blue light lit up around him, swirling and expanding, finally forming a circular portal of light.
Without the slightest hesitation, he stepped inside.
Chapter 105: How Dare You!?
Mark was washing the dishes.
The faucet splashed loudly, and the soap suds from the dish detergent slid over his fingertips.
He held a plate in his hand, carefully wiping the rim with a cloth.
The sound of Maeve throwing out the trash came from outside the window.
He smiled.
That silly girl insisted on helping take out the trash, saying she "couldn't let her mother-in-law handle everything alone."
Even though Debbie had just casually mentioned that "the trash is full," she had immediately rushed out.
She really was an earnest person.
Just then—
A slight hum came from behind him.
A blue light glowed at his back.
Mark's movements came to a halt.
He put down the plate in his hand and slowly turned around.
That blue portal was taking shape, and a figure stepped out from within.
Cecil.
Mark's eyes instantly turned gold.
No, not just gold.
A burning gold.
An angry gold.
A murderous gold!
"I've already warned you."
His voice was low and dangerous, like the low growl of a beast about to pounce on its prey.
"Don't just show up in my house whenever you feel like it."
Cecil's mouth had just opened, wanting to say something—
The next second!
At a speed completely undetectable by humans, Markappeared right in front of him!
A hand clamped onto his neck!
Those five fingers were like iron pincers, tightly gripping his throat!
Cecil's feet left the ground as he was hoisted up!
He struggled desperately, his hands trying to pry the hand away, but it wouldn't budge an inch!
Mark lifted him to eye level; those golden eyes were now so bloodshot they looked ready to drip blood!
It was a gaze like that of a true, man-eating demon!
One could only say he truly was a territorial brat.
How could a man who wanted to claim the entire Earth for himself allow Cecil to stand on the floor of his home!?
This was the home he shared with his parents!
This was his territory!
Any intruder—
Must die!
"Don't... don't be so agitated... Mark..."
Cecil's voice was intermittent, like a broken bellows leaking air.
His face turned bright red, veins bulged on his forehead, and his eyes were nearly popping out.
He hurriedly waved his hands, pleading for mercy.
"I came... for an important matter... to discuss with you..."
Mark stared at him.
The golden light in those eyes was like a volcano about to erupt.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
"Speak now."
He finally spoke.
The voice was as cold as ice.
He slowly loosened his grip, letting Cecil back onto the floor.
But he didn't step back.
He just stood there in front of Cecil, his 185cm height looking down at the Director of the Global Defense Agency.
Cecil clutched his neck and coughed violently several times.
He understood.
He understood that Mark was dropping the pretense.
And Mark—
Could only stand on the side of humanity.
Because this was his Earth!
As for his own old man...
Mark calculated silently in his heart.
Break both his arms and legs, give him a few more punches, and let him think things over properly.
To see whether it was Mark Grayson who was stronger, or the Grand Regent!
Viltrums were good in this one regard—before a bloodline is confirmed, the strong are respected!
Not to mention he possessed royal blood!
"Speak."
Mark's voice remained cold.
"What is it?"
Cecil took a deep breath.
He looked into Mark's eyes, which had now returned to their black color.
Then, he spoke.
"Your father—"
He said each word with deliberate emphasis.
"Nolan Grayson—"
"Has killed the entire Global Defense Agency!"
Mark's expression did not change.
But Cecil knew he was listening.
"He was never Earth's protector from the very beginning!"
Cecil's voice grew louder and louder, until he was practically roaring!
"He is an invader!"
"An invader from an alien race!!!"
The voice echoed through the kitchen, making the windows tremble slightly!
"Clatter."
A crisp sound.
A plate shattered on the floor.
Shards flew everywhere, some landing by Mark's feet, others rolling into the corners.
Mark did not move.
He just slowly turned his head and looked toward the kitchen door.
The door was halfway open.
A person stood at the entrance.
Nolan.
The plate just now had slipped from his hand.
At this moment, he just stood there, motionless, like a stone statue.
But his eyes—
Those eyes were blood-red!
As if burning with a raging fire!
That wasn't a disguise, wasn't an act, wasn't the "Earth's hero" image he had meticulously maintained for twenty years.
That was real.
That was the gaze of a Viltrum conqueror!
If only you had given me a little more time!
I clearly could have protected the entire family!
You goddamn piece of trash!
How dare you!?
How dare you destroy the peace of my family!?
In this moment, Nolan lost all his civilized pretense.
His body moved in an instant!
The speed was so fast it left afterimages in the air!
So fast that his movements were impossible to see!
He swung a savage punch toward Cecil's head!
"Cecil—!!!"
The roar was deafening, like a wounded beast bellowing!
The fist came whistling through the air!
The wind from that punch was enough to tear through steel, enough to shatter rock, enough to smash any ordinary person's head into a pulp!
Cecil stood where he was.
He saw that punch.
He knew he couldn't dodge it.
He felt no fear.
Only an indescribable sense of—relief?
This was his true plan.
If he, the Director of the Global Defense Agency, was slain by Nolan right in front of Mark, then Mark would have no choice but to accept the truth!
Everything else would depend on his conscience.
If Mark was on the side of humanity, then he would awaken sooner and confront Nolan earlier.
If Mark stood on the side of the Viltrums...
Then he, as the Director of the Global Defense Agency, had truly done everything in his power.
"Thud!"
A muffled sound!
But that fist did not land on Cecil's head.
A hand blocked the path of the fist.
Mark's hand.
He just stood there, one hand tucked in his pants pocket, while the other effortlessly caught his father's full-power punch.
Nolan was stunned.
He looked at his own fist, then at his son's hand, and finally at those black eyes.
This kid is truly something...
Even if I didn't use my full strength, to be able to take my punch at this age, he really is excellent!
"Dad."
Mark's voice was very calm.
"Calm down."
Nolan's eyes grew even redder.
"Do you know what he's saying!?"
His voice was trembling.
"He's slandering me! He's trying to drive a wedge into our family! He's—"
"I know."
Mark interrupted him.
Nolan's words got stuck in his throat.
"You... know?"
Mark nodded.
"I know."
He said.
"From the very beginning, I knew."
Nolan's eyes widened.
It was a look of genuine, utter disbelief.
He had always thought his disguise was seamless.
He had always thought he had hidden everything perfectly.
He had always thought—
"When... did you..."
"I've known for a long time."
Mark's voice remained calm.
"I knew exactly who you were."
"I knew why you came to Earth."
"I knew what you would do."
He looked into his father's eyes and said each word clearly:
"But I still call you Dad."
"I still let you be my Dad."
"I still—treat you as my father."
Nolan fell silent.
His hand slowly lowered.
He looked at his son, at this child he thought he had been protecting, hiding things from, and guiding all along.
As it turned out, he knew everything.
"Why?"
Nolan's voice was hoarse.
"Why didn't you stop me?"
Mark was silent for a second, and then he smiled.
"Because you're my Dad."
"There are no overnight grudges between us father and son."
"So I wanted to let you choose for yourself."
Chapter 106: You Really Don't Hold Back
Mark paused.
"I'm not some noble person; both you and Mom know that. I don't care what happens to the rest of humanity; I just want my family to live a little happier."
"If I didn't consider Mom, maybe I would help you, but I'm sorry—I guess I might just be a mama's boy..."
Nolan didn't speak.
He just stood there, like a puppet that had been hollowed out.
"So."
Mark's voice became firm.
"I'm giving you one last chance."
"Now, tell me."
He looked into his father's eyes.
"Which side are you going to stand on?"
"Earth's side—"
"Or Viltrum's side?"
"I... I don't know."
Faced with his son's questioning, Nolan appeared lost and helpless at this moment.
It was an expression he hadn't worn in over a thousand years.
The great Nolan, conqueror for the Viltrumite Empire, Earth's Omni-Man—at this moment, he looked like an ordinary man backed into a corner.
As he explained, he subconsciously glanced back.
He was terrified his wife would hear the conversation between him and his son from outside.
"Listen to me, Mark."
His voice was very low, carrying a tone that was almost pleading.
"I can protect you, I can protect your mother; all it will cost is the lives of some other people."
He paused and urgently added.
"Of course, if they choose not to resist and instead choose loyalty, with the Empire's help, Earthlings will only live better!"
His eyes were fixed intently on his son.
"You have no idea how powerful the Viltrumite Empire is, Mark!"
As a Viltrum at the forefront of their ranks, Nolan...
...certainly knew how terrifying the combat power would be if all current Viltrumites determined to conquer Earth.
Human genes and Viltrum genes were too compatible.
Otherwise, how could his son have become this powerful?
Once the Empire learned of Mark's existence, they would stop at nothing to conquer Earth!
"Is that so..."
Mark's voice was very calm.
So calm that it made Nolan feel uneasy.
"Actually, this is also within my expectations."
Mark pushed Cecil to the side.
The movement was as casual as moving a piece of furniture.
He looked directly into his father's eyes.
Those black eyes held no anger or disappointment at this moment, only an indescribable—certainty.
"As long as I beat you and prove to you that I'm stronger than those Viltrumites, that'll be enough, right, Dad?"
The corners of his mouth curled up slightly.
"Stop thinking about those words like loyalty or disloyalty."
Regarding Viltrum culture, I am also very clear on one point."
He emphasized each word.
"Might makes right."
As soon as he finished speaking, he suddenly turned his head and grabbed Cecil by the throat.
The speed was so fast that Nolan almost couldn't react.
"I'm warning you once, Cecil."
Mark's voice was as cold as ice.
"This is just an ordinary father-son argument."
"Do not let my mother or my girlfriend know a single thing about it."
Cecil's face turned bright red, but he didn't struggle.
"Now go back to your Defense Agency."
"If you want, you can set up all your defensive measures, but do not disturb me and my dad."
He paused, a flash of golden light appearing in his eyes.
"Otherwise, I will destroy the Global Defense Agencyfirst."
After speaking, he let go.
In the next second, he soared into the sky!
The speed was like a golden meteor, tearing directly through the clouds!
Nolan watched the direction his son disappeared in, silent for a second.
Then he turned his head and gave Cecil a fierce glare.
This guy.
It was this guy who caused him to have to fight his own son!
He didn't speak, but everything in his gaze was clear enough.
In the next second, he also soared into the sky.
Clouds drifted around them.
Father and son hovered ten thousand meters in the air, a rolling sea of clouds beneath their feet and a brilliant starry sky above their heads.
The wind was strong, making their clothes flap loudly.
"Listen to me, Mark."
Nolan's voice carried a final trace of struggle.
"I don't want to fight you at all."
He looked at his son; that young face was now filled with determination.
"I have lived for over a thousand years."
Nolan's voice was low.
"I have seen the Iron Fist of the Viltrumite Empire seize one planet after another."
"The wails of those civilizations, the extinction of those races—I have seen it all."
He reached out and pointed toward the blue planetbeneath them.
"Earth is but a tiny part of the vast Universe."
"It is beautiful, but it cannot stand against the entire Empire."
He smiled.
In that smile, there was bitterness, helplessness, and a father's concern for his son.
"Do you understand?"
Mark looked at him.
The starlight was reflected in those black eyes.
"I said it before, Dad."
He slowly assumed a fighting stance, feet slightly apart, fists raised, and center of gravity lowered.
It was the most classic Viltrum opening stance.
"I will use everything I have to stop all of that from happening."
He beckoned to Nolan.
The gesture was light, yet it carried an unquestionable resolve.
"Come and try to beat me, Father."
"As long as you win, I'll listen to whatever you say!"
Nolan's brow furrowed.
His gaze shifted from helplessness to calmness.
From a father to a warrior.
"Kid, you really are disobedient."
His voice was low.
"I admit your talent is strong, son."
"But compared to me, a Viltrum who has lived for a thousand years—"
He suddenly clenched his fist.
"You are lacking too much time!"
Before his voice had even faded, he lunged forward!
That punch was as fast as lightning and as heavy as a mountain collapse!
Mark also threw a punch!
The two fists collided!
BOOM—!!!
A shockwave vibrated out from the fists, spreading in all directions with the two of them at the center!
The surrounding clouds were directly blasted into a circular void by this terrifying power!
The light of the setting sun poured down from that void, plating both of them in a golden glow!
"This!!"
Nolan looked at the fist that was holding its own against him, his eyes widening in disbelief.
This was his son?
This was his offspring?
Isn't this a bit too overpowered?!
He had just awakened, it hadn't even been a year—and he could trade blows with him?
And not fall behind in the slightest?
If he was given another eight or ten years—
Wouldn't he go and take on the Grand Regent?!
"You really do surprise me, kid."
Nolan looked at Mark, his expression complex.
In that complexity, there was shock, pride, and something else indescribable.
"I told you."
Mark gave him a small smile.
That smile was exactly the same as the one he usually wore when eating dinner at home.
"I will resolve all of this."
In the next second—
He threw a vicious punch toward Nolan's face!
BANG!
Nolan was sent flying backward!
He fell through the clouds like a meteor streaking across the sky, then crashed violently into the ground!
BOOM!
A massive crater was smashed into the ground!
Dust filled the air, and debris scattered everywhere!
Nolan stood up from the crater, patting the dust off his clothes.
He spat out the blood in his mouth.
That punch just now had split his lip.
The taste of blood filled his mouth.
He looked up.
Mark had already charged down from the clouds!
A knee strike was aimed directly at Nolan's face!
Fast!
Too fast!
So fast it didn't give Nolan any time to react!
It was a textbook example of 'filial piety' in action!
"You're really going for the kill!"
Nolan hurriedly blocked with both arms in front of him!
BANG!
Pushed by the knee strike, he was sent flying backward again!
His body continued to fly back.
Finally, he crashed into a pile of ruins!
He struggled to stand up, rubbing his arms and grimacing.
His arms were throbbing with pain.
This kid... he really doesn't hold back!
In the end, are you the Viltrum, or am I?!
He exhaled heavily.
Nolan looked up at the figure hovering in the sky.
His son.
Who was now looking down at him from above.
In those black eyes, golden flames were burning.
The corners of Nolan's mouth slowly curled into an arc.
In that arc, there was pride, gratification, and... true battle intent!
His feet slammed against the ground!
He shot into the sky like a cannonball!
He wouldn't hold back anymore.
Today—
Between father and son, only one person would be left standing!
Chapter 107: You're Really Going for the Kill Too
Nolan finally unleashed his true speed!
That speed was so fast it left dozens of afterimages in the air.
So fast that the sonic boom couldn't even keep up with his form.
So fast that the cloud layers were torn to shreds behind him, and the satellites monitoring the battle could only capture a blurred mass of light and shadow!
No more playing around!
No more holding back!
This sudden change in tempo left Mark momentarily unable to react.
He had just been listening intently to his father's words, and in the next second—that fist was already in front of his face.
Bang—!
Nolan's fist smashed solidly into Mark's face!
The power of that single punch was enough to level a small mountain!
Mark was sent flying backward, tumbling over a dozen times in the air like a meteor being struck away!
But before he could stabilize himself, Nolan had already flown to his side!
Nolan's feet kicked violently into Mark's abdomen!
The posture of that kick looked exactly like the 'Foshan Shadowless Kick' from martial arts movies, only thousands of times faster!
Bang!
Mark couldn't control it and spat out a mouthful of fresh blood!
The blood scattered in the air, shimmering with a faint gold under the sunlight, like a miniature golden rain.
"You're really going for the kill too!"
Mark wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, the movement as casual as wiping away sweat.
But in his eyes, a golden light began to burn.
That was the light of solar particles.
That was the light of burning battle intent.
"Of course."
Nolan hovered in mid-air, looking down at his son from above.
His gaze was complex—there was pride, there was heartache, but more than anything, there was an unquestionable resolve.
The resolve of a conqueror.
The resolve of a father.
"I admit, your talent has surprised me, son."
His voice was deep, sounding as if it vibrated directly out of his chest cavity.
"If you are willing to join the Empire, you will become the most powerful Viltrum.
At that time, you can do whatever you want with Earth."
He paused, a hint of a sigh in his tone.
"This is already the best possible outcome."
As soon as he finished speaking, he dove down again!
That foot kicked straight at Mark's chest!
Bang—!!!
Mark was kicked ruthlessly into the ground!
The ground exploded, dust rising everywhere, forming a massive crater ten meters in diameter!
Gravel flew and dust filled the sky, as if a meteorite had just smashed there!
At this moment, Nolan knew very well—
Exactly how much of a beating his son could take!
That punch and kick just now would have turned any ordinary Superhuman into meat paste.
But Mark only spat some blood and could still stand up.
Then he couldn't be blamed for showing no mercy!
A pure Viltrum, a resolute Viltrum conqueror—
Would never fail to give their all in any battle!
"I admit what you're saying makes sense."
Mark's voice came from the crater.
Amidst the dust, he slowly stood up.
His body was covered in dirt, and blood still hung from the corner of his mouth, but his eyes—
Those eyes were startlingly bright.
That brightness wasn't a normal reflection, but a golden glow emanating from deep within his pupils.
Like two small suns slowly rising.
"But I will not back down!"
As soon as he finished speaking, he was already in front of Nolan's eyes!
The speed was so fast that even Nolan only captured an afterimage!
"Not even a single step!"
Rousing emotions were vibrating!
The Smart Atoms within his body were roaring, surging like a torrent!
Those hundreds of millions of Smart Atoms were now operating frantically as if injected with adrenaline, pumping all their energy into Mark's right fist!
A Viltrum's power changes with their emotions.
The angrier and more roused the emotion, the stronger the power.
Conversely, the more dejected and sorrowful, the weaker the power.
Mark was the same.
But he had Earthling genes, possessing an emotional regulatory capacity that Viltrums lacked.
Whether it was excitement or sadness, because of this human bloodline, the influence on Mark's Smart Atomswould be much more intense than that of a normal Viltrum.
For example, when he was sad, his strength would decrease significantly, weakening much faster than a Viltrum's.
In contrast—
Once his emotions reached a peak, he could unleash combat power far exceeding his normal state!
This punch—
Twenty years of cultivation, can you take it!
The wind of the punch howled!
There were even solar particles vibrating on that fist, causing the entire fist to glow with a dazzling golden light!
The golden light grew brighter and more intense, until it was almost blinding!
Nolan had originally thought that since Mark's physical fitness was comparable to his own, he could block this punch using his years of combat experience.
But at this moment—
His physical instincts were vibrating!
That was the highly honed combat instinct of a Viltrum, a warning system carved into the genes after experiencing countless life-and-death trials!
It was screaming frantically!
I'm going to die!
I'm going to die!
I'm going to die!!
Nolan's pupils suddenly contracted!
He hurriedly raised his arms to block!
Bang—!!!
The moment the two fists collided, the air was directly blasted apart!
The shockwave spread in all directions; wherever it passed, trees were uprooted, rocks were vibrated into powder, and the ground was plowed with deep furrows!
Mark's punch smashed solidly onto Nolan's arm!
Nolan was blasted away by the punch!
The speed was so fast that he couldn't deflect the force at all!
He could only feel his body retreating at extreme speed—
Crashing through a rock wall!
Crashing through another rock wall!
And crashing through yet another rock wall!
He tumbled for dozens of meters on the ground, leaving a deep trench!
The trench was three meters wide and five meters deep, like a newly excavated canal!
Having finally stopped his momentum, he wanted to stand up—
But Mark had already reached his side!
His entire body dropped rapidly from the sky, his right leg raised high, his heel smashing straight toward Nolan's forehead!
Smart Atoms and solar particles were rushing and roaring!
Flowing through Mark's blood vessels like a raging river, through his skin, through his bones, and finally converging on that single kick!
At this moment, even Mark's leg emitted a golden glow!
The light was so dazzling, so scorching, as if it could kick the stars into pieces!
Nolan's pupils shrank!
If this kick landed solidly—
At best a concussion, at worst he'd be knocked out cold!
"Son, I'm your father!"
He blurted out!
There was thirty percent anxiety, thirty percent helplessness, and forty percent—fatherly love as heavy as a mountain—in that voice!
Mark's movement suddenly jerked to a halt!
That kick stopped a mere three centimeters in front of Nolan's forehead!
It was this split-second pause!
Nolan directly dodged Mark's kick and slammed a fist hard into Mark's face!
With this punch, Nolan used all his strength!
Black Flash!
Bang—!!!
This punch directly created an air wave!
The air was compressed to the extreme and then suddenly exploded!
The shockwave spread outward, overturning a section of the forest!
Mark's face was distorted, and he was sent flying once again!
He scrambled out of the dirt pathetically, his mouth full of blood.
The blood mixed with the dirt, covering his entire face, making him look extremely wretched.
"Old man!"
He roared angrily.
"You have no martial honor!"
"Coming here to deceive! To sneak attack!"
"Bullying a young comrade in his twenties like me!"
"Hmph."
Nolan hung in mid-air, looking down at his son.
The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, a curve containing thirty percent smugness, thirty percent pride, and forty percent—the gratification of an old father.
"I never taught you that you should relax on the battlefield."
He straightened his clothes—which were already tattered from the battle, revealing the solid muscles underneath.
"Kid, today I'll let you see for yourself—"
"Why I am your old man!"
As soon as he finished speaking, he flew high into the sky.
Mark's punch just now had been blocked by his arm and hadn't caused him much damage.
Right now—
His combat power was at its peak!
"Today I'm going to beat you until you can't even stand up!"
He dove down at high speed, smashing a heavy punch toward Mark!
"If you won't join the Empire willingly, you'll join regardless!"
The diving posture was like a burning meteor!
The air in front of him was compressed into a white shockwave, letting out a piercing shriek!
Just as Mark was about to raise his arm to block—
Nolan changed his fist into a claw and directly grabbed Mark's neck!
Those five fingers were like iron pincers, death-gripping Mark's neck!
He hoisted Mark and smashed him toward the ground!
Bang!
The first strike!
The ground exploded!
A crater five meters in diameter!
Bang!
The second strike!
The crater became ten meters!
Cracks spread in all directions!
Bang!
The third strike!
The crater became twenty meters!
The cracks were bottomless!
The Earth shook!
It even began to fracture inch by inch!
Cracks spread out from the two of them as the center, the widest crack being a full meter across!
The cracks were like a spiderweb, covering several kilometers of ground!
Birds and beasts all fled from this area—they felt it; this was a vibration more terrifying than an earthquake!
Birds flew away in flocks, wild animals ran frantically, and even small underground creatures desperately burrowed out!
"One wrong step leads to another, kid!"
Nolan spoke while smashing, his voice filled with the smugness of an old father educating his son.
"My fist just now was aimed at your jaw, the resulting Shockwave can inversely stimulate the inner ear!"
He pinned Mark to the ground and unleashed a barrage of blows!
A wild dance of chaotic punches!
"Once the balance system is disrupted, no matter how strong you are, you can't exert any force!"
Black Tiger Steals the Heart!
A punch smashed into Mark's chest!
Crow Takes Flight!
A kick landed on Mark's abdomen!
Tornado Destroys Parking Lot!
A spinning kick sent Mark spinning three times on the spot!
A series of smooth small combos forced Mark into a position where he couldn't even lift his head!
Chapter 108: Fighting Dirty Even Against His Own Son
Holy crap!
What kind of father uses cheap tricks when beating his son!
We're Viltrums, you can't do that!
"You think fighting is just about raw strength?"
Nolan spoke as he fought, his tone carrying the gratified air of an old father educating his son.
"I've lived for over a thousand years; how many battles do you think I've fought?
How many opponents have I killed?
You think all that experience was for nothing?"
Another punch!
"So you have good talent?
What use is talent if you're dead!"
Another kick!
"When I first reached adulthood, I was surrounded and beaten by three of our kin, and I managed to kill two of them using dirty tricks!"
Another elbow!
"You think 'might makes right' means whoever is stronger wins?"
A final punch!
"That's because you haven't reached a life-or-death moment yet!"
After finishing a flurry of combination punches, Nolanstopped, panting heavily.
He looked at the motionless figure in the crater, his lips curling into a satisfied arc.
"Alright, that's enough."
He stood with hands on his hips, his voice booming.
"Get up, I know you can still move.
That combo won't kill you; at most, it'll keep you down for half a day."
There was no movement in the crater.
"Hey?"
Nolan frowned.
"Stop faking it. Do you think I don't know my own son?"
Still no movement.
Nolan's expression became a bit subtle.
Could it be... I really hit him too hard?
Just as he was about to go down and check—
A voice came from the crater.
"Old man..."
The voice was raspy, yet it carried a hint of a smile.
"Are you done hitting me?"
Amidst the dust and smoke, Mark slowly stood up.
His movements were as slow as an eighty-year-old man's, but those eyes—
Those eyes were brighter than before!
"If you're done—"
He cracked his neck, making a series of popping sounds.
"It's my turn."
Nolan's pupils constricted violently!
He remembered clearly that his combo just now had broken at least three of Mark's ribs, fractured his shoulder blade, and dislocated his right arm joint!
But now—
Mark stood there, and a faint golden light actually began to emanate from his body!
The light shone through from beneath his skin, as if a small sun were burning inside him!
His injuries were healing at a rate visible to the naked eye!
That twisted arm snapped back into place on its own!
That caved-in chest puffed back out!
That ruptured skin knit itself back together!
"This... how is this possible?!"
Nolan looked at his son in disbelief.
"What kind of monstrous recovery is this?!"
He had seen Viltrums with strong regenerative abilities.
A Viltrum's recovery was already far beyond that of an Earthling—to a Viltrum, a bone fracture was like a small cut on the hand, just a minor wound that only needed five or six days to heal.
But that was still measured in days!
What the hell is this 'healing in seconds' thing?!
"My foolish father..."
Mark slowly flew up to eye level with his father.
His lips curled into an arc that contained three parts mockery, three parts smugness, and four parts—a son's pride.
"About true power—"
He reached out and clenched his fist.
On that fist, the golden light grew brighter and brighter.
—you know nothing."
As soon as he finished speaking—
Mark moved!
He charged at Nolan, his right hand raised high!
solar particles converged frantically at the edge of his palm, causing that Viltrumite Hand Chop to glow with a scorching red light!
The light was so dazzling, so searing, it seemed as if it could cut through anything!
"Sun Breathing! First Form—"
His voice exploded in the air!
"Viltrumite Hand Chop!"
The hand chop descended!
Enveloped in solar particles, Mark's hand chop truly carved a scorching red line through the air!
It was definitely not fire!
It was a crimson ribbon formed by solar ions!
That red line sliced through the air, leaving a searing trail that lingered for a long time!
Everywhere it passed, the air was ionized, making a crackling sound!
Nolan's pupils constricted violently!
His current state of mind was as if the Earth had flipped and the equator had shifted!
This kid—
How many trump cards does he have?!
Just how many trump cards did you prepare to deal with your dear old father!
He didn't have time to think and could only raise his right arm to block!
The Smart Atoms inside his body roared frantically, trying to resist—
But the moment they encountered the solar particles, those Smart Atoms were like they'd entered'sage mode,' instantly going soft!
The gap was too large!
It wasn't a gap in magnitude, but a gap in essence!
Like charcoal and diamond—both are carbon, but one is soft and the other is hard!
Crack—!
The hand chop slammed solidly into Nolan's right arm!
The sound was crisp and chilling, like a branch being snapped, like bone being split open!
Nolan's entire right arm bent directly at a 90-degree angle!
White bone shards pierced through the flesh, and blood sprayed wildly!
"Argh—!"
He gritted his teeth, brow furrowed, and fell heavily to the ground!
Fortunately, Mark hadn't used lethal force.
Otherwise, if this hand chop had landed on Nolan's head or neck, it would have given the old man a taste of what the French Royalty experienced.
From then on—
He wouldn't even have a head to joke with.
Nolan fell, but he didn't give up resisting.
Over a thousand years of combat experience told him—as long as he wasn't dead, there was still a chance!
He rolled to the side and lashed out with his uninjured left leg towards Mark!
The angle of that kick was extremely tricky, and the speed was incredibly fast!
From bottom to top, it aimed straight for Mark's groin!
Mark definitely wouldn't be able to dodge this strike!
If it doesn't kill you, it'll hurt like hell!
Chapter 109: Dad, I Love You
"Dad."
A voice rang out.
The voice was very light and soft, like a March breeze, like afternoon sunlight, like the lullabies a mother sings before bed in childhood.
"I love you."
Nolan's movements came to a sudden halt.
That leg stopped barely three centimeters away from Mark's vital spot.
A gentle breeze brushed over the green grass, sweeping away all the sweltering heat.
It was as if a soothing pure music BGM began to play.
The music was so gentle, so beautiful, as if it could wash away all hostility.
In this moment, Nolan's eyes became as clear as a college student's.
What am I doing?
Why would I use such an underhanded, low-down move against my own son?
At this moment, his conscience was fiercely striking Nolan.
He is my son!
He is the son of me and Debbie!
He is the son I held, coaxed, and watched grow up bit by bit!
"Mark, I..."
"Still too naive, old man!"
Mark immediately struck a Lu Zhishen-pulling-up-the-willow-tree pose!
With a sudden diagonal kick, he powerfully struck Nolan in the midsection!
BOOM—!
His stomach churned like a stormy sea!
Nolan spat out a mouthful of blood!
The blood drew an arc in the air before falling to the ground, shimmering with a faint gold under the sunlight.
"Hinjakku, Hinjakku!"
Mark stood with hands on his hips, looking down at his father lying on the ground.
There was a smile on his face, one containing smugness, pride, and an indescribable—happiness.
"Old man, does someone like you even deserve to be called a Viltrumite Conqueror?"
Mark grabbed Nolan's collar and dragged him out of the ruins.
At this moment, Nolan had been beaten into a bit of a daze.
That mouthful of blood he just spat out made him feel mentally and physically exhausted.
There wasn't much physical pain.
Even with damaged internal organs, for a Viltrum, these were minor injuries that would recover in a day or two.
What truly made Nolan despondent, even unable to muster energy, was primarily his clear realization of one thing.
Nolan was very clear on this now—
If he didn't have the resolve to fight his son to the death, he couldn't beat Mark.
This kid is too bizarre.
That recovery power, those golden particles swirling around his body, those inexplicable trump cards...
Nolan had lived for so many years and had never seen a Viltrum like this.
Can the union of a Viltrum and an Earthling produce such a superior breed?
But this'superior' is a bit over the top.
But he still wanted to try some well-meaning persuasion.
He couldn't betray the Empire.
After all, in his heart, he considered himself a Viltrum.
He could even less betray his family.
After all, these were the people he loved—Debbie, Mark, and that warm home.
Now Nolan was caught in a dilemma.
Both sides were abysses.
He couldn't jump into either.
He could only make a small sacrifice.
Those sacrifices would be people unrelated to him.
The other Earthlings.
"Mark."
His voice was raspy, like sandpaper rubbing against an iron plate.
"You really are excellent, truly."
He leaned against the ruins, looking up at the sky. The setting sun was sinking, dyeing the entire sky a warm orange-red.
"If only you were given ten more years. Even five years would be fine."
He turned his head to look at his son.
"The Empire would see your potential; you would bring more benefits to the Empire."
He paused.
"But there is no time."
"The Empire is never weak."
"The Empire never delays."
His voice grew deeper and deeper.
"Believe me, Mark. Believe me."
"The two of us together cannot protect Earth."
Even now, Nolan was still trying to persuade him.
Still trying to make his son understand what 'reality' meant.
"Don't worry, old man."
Mark sat right down on his rear.
He sat right next to Nolan, on the ruins they had smashed to pieces.
The father and son both looked wretched at this moment.
One had bruises on his face, the other had an arm still bent and unrecovered. Their clothes were tattered, and they were covered in dirt and blood.
But chatting now felt as if they were lying on the sofa at home.
One sitting on the side, one lying on the main sofa.
"I also have some secrets of my own."
Mark looked at the sunset, his entire face glowing in the afterglow.
"For example, my current strength, and that amazing recovery power."
He reached out, clenched his fist, and then relaxed it.
"I still have many opportunities."
Nolan looked at him.
"Maybe you think I don't have that much time right now."
Mark turned his head to look at his father.
In those black eyes, the sunset was reflected.
"But actually—"
He smiled.
"I have plenty of time."
In that smile, there was something Nolan couldn't understand.
It was the certainty unique to a transmigrator.
It was the composure after having seen the scenery of ten thousand worlds.
It was—confidence.
"Try to believe in me, Father."
Mark's voice was soft, yet very powerful.
"I'm an adult now, too."
Nolan fell silent.
He looked at his son, at the continuation of his bloodline.
That young face was now filled with determination.
That determination wasn't the recklessness of a newborn calf unafraid of a tiger.
It was the courage to still choose to move forward after having seen the storms.
Nolan suddenly laughed.
The laugh was helpless and bitter, yet it also carried an indescribable—gratification.
"Dad will always be with you."
He said.
The voice was very light, yet it was like a mountain.
"Hahaha!"
Mark burst out laughing.
The laughter echoed over the ruins, startling a flock of birds into flight.
"That's the spirit, Dad!"
He patted Nolan's shoulder.
"That's how it should be!"
For the father and son, this truly was just a father-son fight.
A normal argument, a fight, a bit of a fuss, and it was over.
But for the Global Defense Agency—
They didn't even know how many earthquakes had just occurred.
Inside the monitoring center, everything was a mess.
Coffee cups were overturned everywhere, documents were scattered all over, and several staff members were slumped in their chairs with expressions saying 'I've been drained dry.'
"The main screen shows the highest magnitude reached 7.8."
A technician reported, his voice trembling.
"Epicenter depth... zero."
"Meaning the surface was directly cracked apart."
Cisal stood by the window, looking at the distant area that was still smoking.
His expression was complex.
"Donald."
"Sir."
"Tell me, would you consider this a successful attempt at driving a wedge between them?"
Donald was silent for a second.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because after they finished fighting, they're still father and son."
Cisal: "..."
He sighed.
"Forget it."
He turned around and walked toward the door.
"Clean up and prepare for the aftermath."
"Just say... say a meteorite fell."
He paused.
"It's not like it's the first time we've said that anyway."
Donald nodded.
"Yes, Sir."
Chapter 110: Give Me a Beating
"Good, it's better now that we've talked things out."
Mark patted his rear and stood up.
The movement was as casual as taking a stroll in his own backyard, rather than having just finished a battle of the century with his own father that was enough to crack the earth's crust.
He turned around and looked at Nolan, who was still slumped in the ruins, with a punchable smirk on his face.
"I hit you pretty hard, Dad. You're probably pissed right now, aren't you?"
He stood with hands on his hips and said righteously:
"Come on, give me a beating first!"
"Huh?"
Nolan rubbed his chest, looking at his son as if he were an idiot.
"Can that brain of yours be repaired?"
He stood up with difficulty, his bones still creaking and groaning.
That display of 'filial piety' just now had given him a profound understanding of what it meant for 'the student to surpass the master.'
"You think I want to get beaten by you?"
Mark curled his lip helplessly, his expression looking very much like a wronged little wife.
"I'm not into masochism."
Nolan: "..."
Where did this brat learn all these messy terms?
"We have to go home later," Mark explained. "If Mom sees that only you're injured and I'm not, she might think I'm trying to start a rebellion."
He spread his hands, looking completely innocent.
"Give me a beating, and I'll suppress my healing factor a bit. When we get back, I'll tell Mom we got carried away during a spar, and that's how it ended up."
He paused and pointed to his handsome face.
"Anyway, with our recovery speed, these are all minor injuries."
Nolan was stunned for a moment.
Then he laughed.
"Heh, you brat really are a fucking genius!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth—
The next second!
Nolan directly smashed a fierce punch into the bridge of Mark's nose!
POW!
That punch was solid and showed no mercy!
Mark's nosebleed sprayed out on the spot!
"Fuck!"
Mark clutched his face and took two steps back, grimacing in pain.
"So you're the one playing dirty with me, huh!"
Nolan laughed loudly, rushed up, and delivered another kick!
"Fuck you, today I'll show you who the hell is the father!"
He knocked Mark to the ground with one punch and started stomping on him wildly!
That posture, that strength, that merciless stance—it was simply too intense!
Nolan stomping Mark!
"No! You're fucking serious!"
Mark was stomped until he repeatedly begged for mercy, rolling in the ruins with his hands over his head.
"I'm your son!"
"Hmph!"
Nolan sneered while stomping.
"The same trick is useless against me now!"
His footwork became increasingly skilled, left and right, specifically targeting the fleshy areas.
"I'll fuck you up, kid! That's for hitting me so hard just now!"
"If you want to fuck my mom, then go ahead! I'm not stopping you!"
Mark's mouth didn't back down at all; even though his rear was stomped swollen, he remained as stubborn as a rock in a latrine.
"If you didn't fuck my mom, I wouldn't even be here!"
Nolan's foot paused for a moment.
Then he stomped even harder!
"Heh, fuck! I shouldn't have let you come out in the first place!"
"Damn! Old man, are you ever going to finish?!"
"You were the one who was greedy for that moment, and now you're blaming me!?"
Mark was furious!
He suddenly bounced up from the ground, grabbed Nolanby the waist, and the two of them began scuffling again!
"Today I'll show you what 'filial piety' really looks like!"
"Bring it on! Who's afraid of who!"
...
Under the setting sun, two figures were entangled once more.
Punch after punch to the flesh, every move drawing blood.
But this time, there was no killing intent, only laughter.
The laughter echoed over the ruins, startling a flock of birds returning to their nests.
Half an hour later.
In front of the Grayson family home.
"Holy shit! How did you two end up like this?"
Debbie looked at her husband and son, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.
They had clearly just gone out to take out the trash.
Even if that trash was thrown a bit far, into a no-man's land dozens of kilometers away.
But when they returned, they were supporting each other, faces bruised and swollen.
Truly bruised and swollen.
Nolan's right eye socket was a large bruise, and his left cheek was swollen as if he were holding an egg in his mouth.
Mark was even worse off; his nose was crooked, the corners of his mouth were torn, and a large bump protruded from the back of his head.
"I've gained a lot from my training lately, so I thought I'd spar with Dad."
Mark said apologetically, while poking Nolan in the waist with his hand.
The meaning of the gesture was obvious: Old man, your turn.
Nolan curled his lip.
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a crumpled 100-dollar bill, and handed it to Mark.
This was the "performance fee" they had just agreed upon.
Mark took the money, stuffed it into his pocket, and smiled even more happily.
"As a result, we got a bit carried away during the spar and didn't hold back, Mom."
"Yeah, yeah!"
Having received the money, Nolan immediately got into character, his acting skills off the charts!
"This kid just won't listen! I kept telling him to stop, but he wouldn't listen to me!"
He clutched his chest with a wronged expression of 'I was bullied by my son.'
"Look at what he's done to me!"
Seeing that Mark had taken the money, Nolan decided to make his expenditure worth every penny!
Without hesitation, he piled all the blame onto Mark!
Damn!
I didn't ask for enough money!
Mark's brow furrowed, but the situation could no longer be changed.
Not to mention he was an honest businessman; he took the money to do a job, and he still had that much professional ethics!
Because Debbie's hand had already pinched his ear.
Chapter 111: Little Bastard
"Is your skin itching for a beating, kid?"
Debbie's voice was gentle yet deadly.
"Beating your dad like that?"
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow—!"
Mark was dragged into the house by his ear, grimacing in pain.
Nolan stood nearby with his arms crossed, a gloating expression on his face, smiling with sheer smugness.
And then—
"And you, you old bastard!"
Debbie's voice suddenly exploded in his ear!
Nolan's smile froze on his face.
"You have the nerve to stand there laughing!"
Debbie let go of Mark's ear, turned around, and charged at Nolan with murderous intent!
"If you have this much energy, don't use it on your son, use it in bed!"
"See how I deal with you today!"
Nolan gasped.
"It was an accident! An accident, honey!"
He hurriedly approached her with a forced smile, giving Debbie a massage while explaining frantically.
"The kid was being disobedient, how can you blame me?"
"There's an old Chinese saying!"
Debbie stood with hands on her hips, her aura imposing.
"Thee who underthtandth the timeth are withe—"
She paused.
"Pah, pah! I mean, a son's faults are the father's failure!"
"That's unreasonable!"
Nolan cried out aggrievedly.
"If the kid messes up, can it all be blamed on me?"
He was truly out of options now.
Usually, never mind exerting effort in bed.
The bathroom, the kitchen, the sofa, the balcony...
Every area of the house had its own charm waiting to be discovered.
It was simply a case of 'green hills everywhere.'
But not now!
He had three broken ribs and countless internal injuries.
If they went at it all night, Nolan felt that even as a Viltrumwho could withstand a black hole's gravity, he would die in bed.
"Honey, look at my injuries..."
He pointed piteously at his black eye.
"Can we... tonight..."
"No!"
Debbie was resolute.
Nolan: "..."
This life is impossible!
"How did you and your dad end up fighting like this?"
In the room, Maeve walked in, supporting Mark.
When Debbie was scolding Nolan and Mark earlier, she didn't interrupt, letting her mother-in-law vent to her heart's content.
Now she finally had a chance to ask clearly.
Once back in the room, golden light surged from Mark's body.
solar particles flowed within him; the bruises faded at a visible rate, his crooked nose straightened itself, and his split lip healed instantly.
Within just a few breaths, his injuries were fully healed.
"Couldn't be helped, the old man is too protective of his food."
Mark plopped onto the bed and sighed.
"I told him this is my planet, not for you Viltrums to occupy."
He paused.
"Then the old man got triggered and gave me a beating!"
He cursed through gritted teeth.
"He's practically a beast!"
This was actually more or less the case.
Of course, he beautified it a bit.
In truth, it was because he wouldn't allow the Viltrums to occupy his planet, so he engaged in a bit of 'benevolent father and filial son' action with his own dad.
Forget it, anyway, their current faults were like two halves of a whole butt.
Fifty-fifty.
My butt is half-half-half-half~~
The poop I take is piece-piece-piece-piece~~
"Hahaha!"
Maeve doubled over laughing.
"Then doesn't that make you a little beast?"
Seeing her boyfriend's injuries healed, Maeve stopped worrying and teased him by poking his face with her fingernail.
The nail poked his cheek lightly, bringing a hint of itchiness.
Mark's eyes darted.
He looked at Maeve in her loungewear—a loose white T-shirt and shorts, revealing a pair of straight, slender legs. Her hair was casually tied back, with a few stray strands falling by her ears.
"Yeah, isn't it?"
His voice grew deep.
"But baby, have you heard a saying?"
Maeve was taken aback.
"What saying?"
"When a beast goes into heat—"
A dangerous curve formed at the corner of Mark's mouth.
"They don't show any mercy~"
"Huh? Right now?"
Maeve's eyes widened.
But before she could resist, Mark picked her up!
If a couple wants to play games at home, but the parents happen to be there.
Then the bathroom is an excellent choice!
Especially an en-suite bathroom.
With the soundproofing of the bedroom door, then the bathroom door.
Under double soundproofing, the chance of sounds reaching the parents' ears is greatly reduced.
But conditions in a bathroom are often limited.
There's only the toilet and the sink—places that aren't very easy to operate in.
The toilet is easy enough; if one party squats down, the problem can be easily resolved.
As for what kind of 'resolve' it is, that depends on the oral skills of both parties.
As for the sink...
That is definitely the ultimate contest of stamina and technique!
But all of this has an absolute prerequisite!
That is, the house must not have a bathtub.
If there's a bathtub, the entire bathroom becomes a sacred ground for 'cooking'!
As luck would have it, Mark's home had a bathtub.
A big, white, comfortable one.
As everyone knows, a bathtub is a good thing!
Two people soaking in it together is just like an outdoor hot spring; it's a fusion of body and soul!
No wonder the Japanese love hot springs; it's incredibly refreshing.
Mist swirling, heat rising.
That's how hot springs are; the surrounding temperature rises, causing the blood flow to speed up, making it quite hot and restless.
It's the pinnacle of beauty and skincare!
...
Today's bathwater was indeed a bit hot.
An hour later, Maeve's cheeks were flushed red as she hurriedly stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped herself in a towel.
"Ha... ha... ha..."
She sat on a chair, panting with a red face.
Her limbs were weak, and her whole body was incredibly hot.
Too hot.
This bathwater was really too hot.
Mark walked out of the bathroom feeling refreshed, making no effort to hide his identity as the Venerable Giant Sun.
"Ah, as expected, a bath is the most comfortable!"
He stretched and lay directly on the bed.
Maeve acted as if she hadn't seen him and started playing with her phone.
The light from the screen illuminated her face, reflecting the lingering flush.
Her fingers slid across the screen, looking very focused.
The next second—
Maeve was lifted into the air.
She had been picked up by Mark yet again!
Five: The Avid 18 Styles
At this moment, Mark began to review the Avid 18 Styles.
One must say, they are indeed top-tier moves invented by the great sociologist, Brother Xu Si!
Every move and every transition is unpredictable and infinitely useful!
Coupled with the magical Mouskatool.
The beauty of it is hard to describe to outsiders~~
...
Ahem, this isn't suitable for detailed description.
After a set of combos, Mark still wanted more.
Maeve's face was flushed, and her eyes held a hint of pleading.
She tried desperately to push Mark away.
Mark could only soothe her with kisses.
Just as Maeve breathed a sigh of relief, Mark smilingly raised his hand!
Maeve:!!!
This is truly a move among moves, a talent among talents!
Mark expressed that he had a great time.
Maeve expressed that she was also very devoted.
And then—
The tables turned!
"Huh?"
Mark's eyes widened.
"How do you still have energy?"
He was pinned to the bed, unable to move.
The smile on Maeve's face became increasingly charming.
"My little mister, you forgot."
"A lady's stamina is actually very strong."
She leaned down and whispered in Mark's ear.
"Work hard, little bull."
"This paddy field of mine needs plenty of plowing."
Mark felt his kidneys go weak.
But he wasn't allowed to choose whether to be proactive or not anymore.
Because Maeve—
Had taken the initiative..."}],
Chapter 112: You Will Be With Me
The streets where crime runs rampant.
This is the darkest corner of the city, where even the policeare unwilling to come.
The streetlights on the side of the road have been broken for three years, and the trash cans are overturned on the ground, emitting a stench of rot.
The walls are covered in gang tags, layered on top of each other, like a pack of beasts fighting over territory.
The setting sun dyes the entire street a filthy orange-red.
A Black man walks down the street, his hood pulled low.
He looks ordinary—a black hoodie, ripped jeans, and a pair of washed-out sneakers.
He is no different from any other poor Black youth on this street.
But his eyes are very bright.
Those eyes are fixed on the front.
Thirty meters ahead, a group of Thugs is hijacking another group of people.
It is called a hijacking, but in reality, it is more like a one-sided slaughter.
Five punks dressed in flashy clothes are holding guns, kicking and punching three unarmed men.
Those three men are already lying on the ground, clutching their heads and wailing, their faces smeared with blood and dirt.
"Where is the money? Where is it?!"
The bald leader stomps on one of the men's faces, grinding down hard.
"B-Big brother, I really don't have any..."
"No?"
The bald man laughs, his smile full of malice.
He raises his gun, aiming at the man's head.
"Then you can go die."
The three men close their eyes in despair.
But the gunshot does not ring out.
The bald man's hand is gripped by a hand that appeared out of nowhere.
He turns his head sharply.
A man in a black hoodie has appeared beside him, though no one knows when.
His hood is pulled very low, and his face cannot be seen clearly.
"Who the hell are you?!"
The bald man roars, trying to break free from that hand.
But that hand is like an iron pincer, unmoved.
The man does not speak.
He just looks at the bald man quietly.
Looking into those eyes, the bald man suddenly feels a chill down his spine.
Those are the eyes of a hunter.
"Let him go."
His voice is very calm.
"You fu—"
The bald man raises his other hand, intending to fire.
The next second—
The man moves.
He releases the bald man's hand and turns to leave.
"Chase him!"
The bald man, along with his four subordinates, grabs their guns and gives chase.
The three hijacked men collapse on the ground, unable to believe they have been saved just like that.
The man twists and turns, ducking into a secluded alley.
The bald man and his subordinates chase after him.
The alley is deep and dark, with high walls on both sides and no way out.
The man stands at the end of the alley, his back to them.
"Run! Why aren't you running anymore?!"
The bald man raises his gun, grinning hideously.
"Dare to ruin my fun? Today, I'll turn you into a sieve!"
The man turns around slowly.
He reaches out and takes off his hood.
In that very instant—
Hard stone skin begins to cover his skin!
The stone skin spreads from his neck, climbing up his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose—as if an invisible hand were placing a stone mask upon him!
Finally, even his eyes turn gray.
That is the color of rock.
No one could recognize his original face.
"I am—"
His voice also becomes deep, like an echo from beneath the earth.
"The one who will take your life."
The bald man is stunned for a moment.
Then he laughs.
Laughing until he doubles over.
"A stone man? Hahaha! People still have such an old-fashioned ability these days?"
He raises his gun, aiming at the stone man's head.
"I'd like to see if rock is harder, or if bullets are harder!"
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Gunshots explode in the alley!
Bullets hit the stone skin, sparking a series of flashes!
Then—
They clatter onto the ground.
Not even a White mark is left on the stone skin.
"Firearms, to me—"
The stone man takes a step, walking forward step by step.
Bullets hit his body like raindrops hitting glass.
"Are useless."
His speed gets faster and faster!
Finally—
The speed is astonishing!
It is completely unlike the speed a stone man should have!
He uses his body to withstand the bullets, rushing straight to the bald man!
"This is impos—"
The bald man's words are not yet finished.
A stone fist has already smashed into his head!
"Bang!"
Flesh and blood explode!
The bald man's head bursts like a watermelon!
Red and White splatter everywhere!
The headless corpse sways and collapses with a thud.
The remaining four subordinates stare at this scene, completely stunned.
"Shoot! Shoot!"
One of them snaps out of it and pulls the trigger frantically!
Bullets hit the stone man, still having no effect!
Another pulls out an electric baton, roaring as he swings it at the stone man's arm!
"Zzzzt—"
Electric sparks flash!
But the stone man doesn't even frown.
He turns his head to look at the man holding the electric baton.
There is no emotion in those gray eyes.
"What a barren brain."
He reaches out and grabs the electric baton.
With a gentle squeeze—
The baton deforms in his hand, snaps, and sparks fly everywhere.
"Don't you know that rock is non-conductive?"
The man's face turns pale.
He wants to run.
But the stone man's fist has already swung down.
"Before you die—"
The stone fist smashes down!
"Remember my name."
The second corpse falls.
"I am—"
He turns around and looks at the last two men.
"Titan."
The remaining two Thugs have completely broken down.
They drop their guns, kneel on the ground, and beg for mercy frantically.
"Spare us! Spare us! We won't dare do it again!"
Titan looks at them.
In those gray eyes, a hint of complex emotion flashes.
He is silent for two seconds.
Then—
He raises his hand.
At that moment—
A light suddenly shines beside him!
The light is so blinding, so dazzling, as if someone has opened a door to another world!
A figure slowly walks out from the light.
It is a man.
Dressed in a flashy red suit, well-tailored and made of exquisite fabric, it looks expensive at a glance.
Long silver hair tied in a ponytail, hanging behind his head.
His features are as refined as an idol star, but his eyes carry a dangerous playfulness.
He stands beside Titan, as if he had always been there.
Teleportation.
"Hey, big guy."
His voice is lazy and casual, carrying a hint of a smile.
"Our boss wants to see you."
Titan looks at him.
The two men's gazes cross in the air for an instant.
That glance is very short, so short it is almost negligible.
But in that glance, something is being conveyed.
Information.
Confirmation.
And—
Tacit understanding.
Titan does not withdraw his stone skin.
He walks directly to the side of the man in red.
"Take me to see your boss."
The man in red laughs.
In that smile, there is appreciation, playfulness, and a hint of indescribable—anticipation.
He places his hand on Titan's arm.
The next second—
A flash of light.
The two disappear from where they were.
Only the two Thugs kneeling on the ground remain, looking at each other.
Did they survive?
Did they really survive?
And—
What was the meaning of that look the two men exchanged just now?
The tallest building in this crime-ridden area.
The top floor.
The light shines again.
Titan and the man in red appear in a luxurious office.
Beneath their feet is a soft Persian rug; overhead is a brilliant crystal chandelier.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the night view of the entire city is in full view.
Thousands of lights, traffic flowing like a river; those crimes and darkness are now reduced to tiny points of light.
And in the deepest part of the office—
A huge desk.
A man is sitting at the very edge of the desk.
He is sitting directly on the desk, legs crossed, arms spread open, like a king welcoming his subject.
His head—
Is a real machine head.
Metal panels, glowing eyes, a hoarse and magnetic voice coming from the speaker.
"Hello, big guy."
The machine head's voice carries a smile.
"I have seen your performance lately."
He stands up and walks off the desk.
Polished leather shoes step on the carpet, making a slight sound.
"You robbed several underworld gangs, and some of them were even my people."
He walks to Titan and looks this stone man up and down.
In those metal eyes, red light flashes.
"What's wrong? Are you short on money lately?"
His voice becomes cordial, as if caring for an old friend.
"If you are short on money, that would be great."
He reaches out and pats Titan on the shoulder.
The movement is forceful, as if testing the hardness of this body.
"You can work with me; I guarantee there will be plenty of profit!"
Titan does not speak.
He just looks at the machine head.
There is no expression in those gray eyes.
A few seconds later, he reaches out and brushes the machine head's hand away.
The movement is light, but firm.
"I will not work with you."
His voice is deep.
"I have my own job."
The machine head is stunned for a moment.
Then he laughs.
The laughter is hoarse and harsh, like the sound of metal rubbing.
"No, no, no—"
He shakes his head.
"You will work with me."
He turns around, back to Titan, and paces slowly.
"Everyone will work with me."
He stops and turns his head back.
In those glowing eyes, a dangerous light flickers.
"Because I will give you money, give you social status—"
He pauses.
"And more importantly, I will guarantee the safety of your family."
He claps his hands.
The sound echoes in the empty office.
"Come and see—your family."
The side door opens.
Two burly men walk out, escorting a Black mother and daughter.
The mother is in her thirties, wearing a cheap dress, her face full of terror.
She holds her daughter tightly, her body trembling slightly.
The daughter is only seven or eight years old, thin and small, huddled in her mother's arms, tears streaming silently.
Chapter 113: This Is How It Should Be
Titan's body gave a violent jolt!
The stone skin covering his entire body couldn't hide that momentary tremor!
His fists instantly clenched tight!
Fury burned within those grey eyes!
"You—"
His voice was low and dangerous.
He lunged at Machine Head!
The speed was astonishingly fast!
But just as he was about to smash into Machine Head—
"Oh, don't get excited."
Machine Head's voice rang out lazily.
"Otherwise, this mother and daughter's brains will be gone too."
Titan's fist stopped barely a centimeter away from Machine Head's face.
He turned his head.
Those two burly thugs were holding guns against the mother and daughter's heads.
The dark muzzles were pressed right against their temples.
With just a light squeeze of the trigger—
The Little girl's tears flowed even more fiercely.
But she didn't make a sound.
She just looked at Titan.
In those eyes, there was dread and fear, but there was also—
Trust.
She believed her daddy would save her.
Titan's fists slowly lowered.
He stood there, motionless.
No expression could be seen on his stone-covered face.
But his eyes—
Those grey eyes were now filled with agony.
"Come work for me."
Machine Head walked back to his desk and plopped down on it.
He crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knees, wearing an expression of absolute victory.
"I guarantee plenty of perks—and it comes with security services."
His voice carried a sense of delight.
The delight of a cat playing with a mouse.
"Argh—!"
Titan suddenly spun around and smashed a fist onto the wooden desk!
BOOM!
The desk shattered!
Splinters flew everywhere!
That expensive desk was instantly turned into a pile of junk!
Titan stood amidst the wreckage, his chest heaving violently.
His knuckles were dripping blood—but the blood was quickly absorbed by the stone skin.
"Yes, yes, yes!"
Machine Head cheered from the side, clapping his hands like a spectator watching a brilliant performance.
"That's the power!"
An excited red light flickered in his eyes.
"That's exactly the power I want!"
The two burly thugs still held their guns to the mother and daughter's heads.
The Little girl's tears were still flowing.
But she never made a sound.
She just looked at her father's back.
That back was trembling slightly now.
A long time passed.
A very long time.
Titan finally turned around.
He looked at Machine Head.
The anger was gone from those grey eyes.
There was only—
Resignation.
"Let them go."
His voice was raspy.
"I'll work for you."
Machine Head smiled.
The smile was as bright as a fox that had successfully stolen a chicken.
"That's more like it."
He stood up, walked over to Titan, and patted his shoulder again.
This time, Titan didn't pull away.
"Don't worry, big guy. Follow me, and you'll be living the high life."
He turned and walked toward the door.
Reaching the door, he stopped and said without looking back:
"I'll have someone send that mother and daughter home."
"Work hard."
The door closed.
Titan stood where he was.
He watched the door, watched the two thugs escorting his wife and daughter away.
He said nothing.
He just stood there.
...
The Youth Defense Force's training center was located in an open area on the outskirts of New York.
It was originally an abandoned military warehouse, but after being renovated by the Global Defense Agency, it became a second home for these young heroes.
With its high vaulted ceilings, alloy-reinforced walls, and floors covered in special shock-absorbing material—it was said to be able to withstand a direct hit from a tank's main cannon.
Of course, no one had actually tried shooting it with a tank.
Mark descended from the sky, his red cape billowing in the wind.
His feet landed on the ground without making a sound.
Inside the training center, things were in full swing.
Captain Africa Steve was unleashing a frantic assault on Dark Spider.
The scene was, well—
A bit bloody.
Steve's elbow strikes fell like raindrops on Dark Spider's face, each one carrying the force of a 'Black Flash,' making the air boom.
Dark Spider's head was smashed apart again and again, red and white matter splashing everywhere, but a second later, a new head would grow back from the headless corpse, perfectly intact.
"I can elbow you all day!"
Steve roared, delivering another elbow strike!
CRACK!
The head exploded again.
Then it grew back.
Dark Spider stood there, motionless, like a dedicated punching bag.
He didn't even bother to dodge; he just stood there and let Steve hit him.
After all, dodging was pointless.
His superpower was just that simple and unadorned—as long as a single cell remained, he could regenerate infinitely.
Of course, the price was that every regeneration consumed a massive amount of energy, so his face was currently as pale as a sheet of paper.
"Holy crap, what kind of god-tier ability is that?"
Mark stood to the side, watching in amazement.
He couldn't help but start clapping.
"Nice! Good hit! Put some more back into it!"
As soon as Dark Spider's new head grew back, he gave Mark a resentful look.
The look said: Are you here to train, or are you here to watch a circus act?
Mark replied with a bright smile.
To watch the circus act, obviously.
"Hey."
A tender voice suddenly sounded from near his feet.
"You're here to train too, right?"
Mark looked down.
A Little girl, only reaching his waist, was standing before him with her hands on her hips.
She had a brown ponytail, a round face, and was wearing a training uniform that was clearly a size too large.
Her chest had only the slightest hint of a curve, almost negligible.
Beast Girl.
At this moment, she was only about ten years old.
The saying 'a woman is old once she's past ten' really wasn't a lie.
After this thought flashed through Mark's mind, he decided to find a high-voltage power line to shock himself with tonight.
So sinful!
"Hey, hey, hey, what's with that look?"
Beast Girl keenly sensed something was wrong. She covered her small, flat chest with her hands, looking wary.
"You're not some damn lolicon, are you?!"
"Thinking that women over twelve are old!"
"And you were just thinking about things that deserve being tied to a telephone pole and electrocuted!"
Mark: "..."
Are you freaking hacking?
"I'm telling you!"
"Even though my mental age is already in my twenties,"
Beast Girl took two steps back and pointed at his nose, "my physical age is truly a loli! Crime is absolutely 'dame'!"
"Stop, stop, stop."
Mark helplessly reached out, pressed his hand on top of her head, and gave it a vigorous rub.
The movement was like ruffling the fur of a bristling kitten.
"With you looking like this, there's no way I could have romantic feelings for you."
Beast Girl's head bobbed back and forth under the rubbing; she wanted to dodge but couldn't.
"Are you bored because you can't train with them?"
Mark teased with a smile.