Marvel's Kryptonian Scientist Chapter 162 162

BOOM!

The grenade blast kicked up a massive cloud of dust and smoke.

It accomplished absolutely nothing.

Bullets striking the Ice Cream Monster felt less like gunfire and more like mosquitoes bouncing off concrete. Even the explosive grenades failed to lt the creature's glossy surface. The monster looked like it had been sculpted from frozen dessert, yet neither heat nor impact left so much as a drip running down its body.

Two gigantic ice cream spheres shot forward.

They punched straight through the top armor of nearby infantry fighting vehicles and detonated inside.

BOOM! BOOM!

The armored vehicles exploded apart instantly.

Steel plating tore outward in flaming chunks, leaving behind craters in the road that looked like direct artillery strikes.

"Jesus Christ... I never thought I'd spend my life terrified of ice cream."

"Fuck this. I'm eating ice cream every damn day after this."

A few Arican soldiers forced nervous jokes through clenched teeth, trying desperately to hold themselves together.

Fear had already sunk into their bones.

The Ice Cream Monster suddenly lunged forward and punched an infantry vehicle head-on before the driver could react.

The entire vehicle launched into the air.

The force behind the punch ripped it apart mid-flight, shredding the armored hull into a rainstorm of burning tal fragnts.

The surviving soldiers stared numbly as wreckage crashed down around them.

Their morale shattered completely.

This wasn't combat anymore.

It was slaughter.

"This is completely one-sided... we can't even fight back!"

A soldier scread into the comms channel, his voice cracking.

Destroyed infantry vehicles littered the streets like broken toys. Fuel still burned inside twisted hulls while sparks spat through the smoke. Entire sections of steel glowed red-hot beneath the flas.

Afghanistan looked like the end of the world.

And despite all of this, the n in Congress still refused to back down.

At this point, it wasn't even about the poppy fields or cannabis plantations anymore.

Arica wanted an answer.

More importantly, it wanted proof.

If even its most advanced military hardware couldn't kill a single Demon-Level monster, then humanity's survival truly rested in the hands of superheroes.

That realization terrified people in power.

The battlefield fell eerily quiet.

Only crackling fire remained.

The Taliban and Ten Rings forces had already collapsed and retreated from the area entirely. Civilians had either fled or barricaded themselves indoors.

Nobody wanted to be outside with that thing.

At the U.S. military airfield in Afghanistan, gigantic C-17 transport aircraft landed one after another under tower guidance.

Massive seventy-ton armored vehicles rolled out from the cargo bays beneath the roar of turbine engines before forming up outside the base.

The Big Red One had arrived.

Arica's legendary 1st Infantry Division.

Their M1A2 SEP V3 Abrams tanks represented the latest modernization package available, upgraded with Stark Industries ammunition systems, including M829A4 sabot rounds and programmable airburst shells.

New thermal imaging systems.

Data-linked targeting systems.

Remote weapon stations.

Twenty million dollars per tank.

Beside them rolled M2A3 Bradley infantry fighting vehicles layered with explosive reactive armor.

Disciplined infantry moved among the armor columns, heavily ard and professionally trained.

This was the military power Arica had built its global dominance upon.

But ever since monsters and superheroes appeared, even that overwhelming military might had started to feel... outdated.

"Why the hell don't we have War Machines or Iron Mongers?!"

The commander of U.S. forces in Afghanistan practically scread into the phone.

"I don't want tanks and Apaches. I want exosuits!"

The man on the other end stayed calm.

"Easy, General. The Big Red One has more than enough firepower. Don't get blinded by hype surrounding War Machines and Iron Mongers. In terms of raw destructive output, the division exceeds them."

"Bullshit!" the commander snapped. "You're just scared of leaving the Pentagon and Wall Street exposed!"

Ever since the Monster Association nearly overran Wall Street during the global attacks, Arica had massively expanded purchases of War Machines and Iron Mongers.

At the sa ti, all overseas deploynt authorizations for those units had quietly disappeared.

Without Congressional approval, not a single suit was allowed to leave U.S. territory.

Of course, other nations that purchased units from Blade Technologies could still deploy theirs internationally.

At this point, nobody really had the leverage to control Drex Valen anymore.

"Watch your tone, General."

Click.

The line disconnected.

The commander nearly crushed the phone in his hand.

Sending the Big Red One against that monster felt suicidal.

Even the attack helicopter battalion dreaded incoming frontline support requests.

The armored crews had already learned their lesson.

The Ice Cream Monster didn't care whether soone was Arican, Afghan, Taliban, or Ten Rings.

Its mission was simple.

Destroy drugs.

Kill humans for fun.

The Taliban and Ten Rings had already suffered catastrophic losses. Huge portions of territory now sat empty, waiting for whoever survived long enough to seize them.

Assuming anyone survived at all.

"Requesting support!"

"The monste... AHHHH!"

Pilots listened to desperate frontline transmissions while muttering prayers under their breath before lifting off toward the combat zone.

Apache gunships swept across the battlefield alongside other heavily ard helicopters.

The mont they spotted the Ice Cream Monster in the distance, Hellfire missiles and autocannons opened fire imdiately.

"We just dump every Hellfire we have and go ho, right?" one pilot joked nervously.

A giant ice cream sphere hit his helicopter seconds later.

The aircraft exploded instantly.

Under different circumstances, a giant ball of ice cream might've looked funny. Dreamlike, even.

Now?

The surviving pilots were pretty sure they'd developed lifelong trauma.

"Holy shit! Those things hit harder than a 155mm tank shell!"

"Break off! Break off! Don't let it hit you!"

"There's no way fucking ice cream tanks missiles and autocannons!"

So pilots panicked.

So lost their minds and charged harder.

Either way, it made little difference.

Hellfire missiles and streams of cannon fire drowned the monster beneath explosions, but the actual results barely changed.

anwhile, almost nobody could evade the incoming ice cream projectiles.

Thirty minutes later, the Big Red One ceased to exist as a combat-effective force.

When the reports reached Congress and the President, disbelief spread through Washington like poison.

That was the Big Red One.

Arica's pride.

Its legendary armored spearhead.

And against a Demon-Level monster...

They'd been wiped out like paper soldiers.