The wide street fell silent.
Jason stood in the middle of the road, eyes half-closed, his mind crunching math and physics formulas.
The crowd around him was stunned, completely freaked out.
An armored vehicle had slamd into him at breakneck speed, and he’d walked away with just a fucking scratch.
Was this guy even human with that kind of insane durability?
The armored unit’s soldiers were just as shocked but kept their shit together, hopping out with disciplined precision.
They were trained to face hell itself—fear wasn’t an option, unless it was unavoidable.
Over a hundred soldiers, ard with automatic rifles, surrounded Jason.
"Jason! Hands up, get on the ground!"
Jason turned, staring at them.
"Get on the ground—last warning!"
A faint smile curled Jason’s lips.
"Shit! Open fire! Take him out!" The officer barked.
Hundreds of guns erupted, spitting blinding muzzle flashes.
Jason didn’t flinch, standing still as the bullets rained down.
Every round that hit him was absorbed instantly, dropping to the ground like spent confetti.
Not only was Jason unscathed—his damn clothes didn’t even have a tear.
The crowd and soldiers were floored.
This was the first ti in their lives they’d seen anything like it.
A human, shrugging bullets like they were nothing.
*Goddamn, is this still the world we live in?*
"Shit! What the hell? Is he Superman?" One soldier growled through clenched teeth.
Seeing morale waver, the officer roared, "Don’t panic! He got knocked down by the armored vehicle—he’s not invincible. Grab every heavy weapon you’ve got and hit him hard!"
At his command, dozens of quick-thinking soldiers yanked out high-explosive grenades and lobbed them at Jason’s feet.
*Boom! Boom! Boom!*
Explosions ripped through the air.
But the jaw-dropping scene repeated itself.
The fireballs from the grenades barely ford before Jason absorbed them, snuffing them out like they never existed.
"My turn! I’ll blow Jason to kingdom co!" A soldier shouted, hoisting an RPG launcher.
Jason glanced at the launcher, and when he clocked the model, a smirk crossed his face.
An RPG-29’s warhead packed 150 grams of explosive—nowhere near enough to hurt him, even with the rocket’s kinetic energy.
Jason wasn’t worried, but the onlookers were pissing themselves.
Watching a superpower showdown was thrilling, but no show was worth their lives.
The crowd scattered, cursing as they ran.
"Shit! Don’t these assholes see civilians here?"
"Keep moving—don’t get caught in the blast!"
"Jason, fuck ’em up! Burn this world down!"
...
Once the crowd cleared fifty ters, the soldier’s eyes narrowed, and he pulled the trigger.
"Die, fucker!"
*Whoosh!*
The rocket streaked toward Jason, trailing a fiery tail.
Jason stood calm, arms spread wide like he was welcoming it.
*BOOM!*
A massive fireball, over a ter wide, erupted in front of him.
Jason clapped his arms together, hugging the fireball. As he squeezed, it shrank, then vanished completely, leaving only a wisp of smoke.
The soldiers were dumbfounded.
What the fuck just happened?
He *ate* the goddamn rocket.
"You’ve been hamring for ages. My turn now," Jason said, stepping forward.
He didn’t just absorb energy—he could release it.
Even crazier, he could absorb one type of energy and convert it into another. Kinetic to thermal, for example.
With a thought, Jason funneled a massive amount of stored kinetic energy into his right foot, converting it to thermal energy.
He tapped his foot lightly, and a fiery pillar, ters wide, roared to life.
The blazing column scread forward, bathing everything in blinding light as it tore through the soldiers.
*BOOM!*
In an instant, over a dozen n were swallowed by flas, reduced to charred husks.
The fire pillar raged on, flipping a twenty-ton armored vehicle onto its side before fizzling out.
That single strike shattered the soldiers’ morale. They ditched their weapons and ran like hell.
In minutes, Jason had obliterated their decades-built worldview with raw, brutal action.
...
From the rooftop of a distant high-rise, Tony watched through binoculars.
The smug grin was gone, replaced by a grim, haunted look.
He was fucked.
He’d thought Jason was just a sharpshooting, ballsy terrorist. Never in a million years did he expect him to have so freakish energy-absorption superpower.
Tony slumped into a chair, regret etched across his face.
A vindictive bastard like Jason wouldn’t let this slide.
If he ca for Stark Industries HQ or Tony’s beachside villa, Tony had no clue how to stop him.
*Fuck. Shouldn’t have provoked him publicly.*
The cost of pissing off a superhuman was more than anyone could bear.
The security chief rushed over. "Boss, the helicopter’s ready. You need to get out now."
Tony snapped up, grabbing a few execs and heading for the chopper.
Staying here was too damn dangerous. He had to move.
As he boarded, Tony told the chief, "Tell the general I’m sorry. Jason’s beyond my league now. He’s on his own. Those two hundred Iron Armors? Consider them a gift for compensation."
With that, the helicopter lifted off, speeding away from the battlefield—and Jason.
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You can read advance Chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon/GreenBlue17
500 power stones.
Top 50. All ti.
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