This jump wasn't even at full strength, yet Saitama soared higher than the towering Washington Monument. Under the sunlight, his figure became a tiny black dot, drawing the fire of some of the mechanical soldiers below. Countless laser beams shot up at him, crisscrossing the sky—yet all of them missed, slicing uselessly through empty air.
At the peak of his ascent, Saitama smoothly rotated one hundred and eighty degrees in midair. Then he threw out what looked like a simple spinning kick, aiming down toward the densest part of the mechanical legion.
He didn't hit anything.
He just kicked the air.
But the instant his foot swept through the sky, something abnormal erupted.
A violent, indescribably savage gale exploded outward from his leg. In a blink, that airburst became a visible, horizontally spreading tornado storm. It carried catastrophic force, ripping up gravel and wreckage from the ground—along with every mechanical soldier in its path.
Iron Man had just cleared a small zone with his unibeam when he saw the pale shockwave-storm roll across the entire plaza like the Grim Reaper's scythe. Wherever it passed, the sturdy mechanical soldiers were as if tossed into a giant industrial shredder—twisted, torn apart, and crushed in an instant. Their metal shells warped and snapped with screeching friction, while internal circuits and components were yanked out and ground into scrap by the rampaging power.
The storm lasted about three seconds before slowly dissipating.
When the air finally settled and the dust drifted down, the Washington Monument plaza fell into an eerie silence.
The thousands of mechanical soldiers that had filled the battlefield were gone.
In their place lay a thick carpet of metal shavings and mangled parts blanketing the ground, like a snowfall of steel. A few red optical sensors flickered weakly among the debris—then went dark for good.
Captain America's shield was still raised in midair. Black Widow had only just peeked out from behind cover. Iron Man hovered above with his faceplate open, wearing a stunned expression. Every surviving soldier and hero looked as if they'd been hit with a paralysis spell, staring at a scene beyond imagination.
Saitama drifted back down and landed lightly on the pile of metallic debris, making a gritty crunching sound underfoot. He dusted off his clothes, glanced at the now-cleared plaza, and nodded with satisfaction.
"Much quieter now."
He didn't care about the shocked stares around him. After checking his direction, he continued toward his original destination walking at an unhurried pace.
Far away, inside a certain secret base, the core processor of Ultron's residual program overloaded as every external unit signal cut out at the exact same moment. It exceeded its limit, gave off a thin wisp of smoke, and collapsed into total paralysis.
A crisis that could have become catastrophic… vanished into nothing, under a single irritated kick—because someone's sleeve had been scorched.
San Francisco—Golden Gate Bridge.
This red beast spanning the Golden Gate was a symbol of California, an engineering marvel. But today, it had become a deadly weapon.
High above the bridge hovered Magneto—the leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants, Erik Lehnsherr. Wearing his signature helmet, frost lining his aged face, his gaze sharp as an eagle's, he had received intel that the human military had secretly developed a powerful "ultimate weapon" designed specifically for mutants—and that today, it was being transported across the Golden Gate Bridge…
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For 20+ Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!] [[email protected]/Draumel]
[Thank You For Your Support!]