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Chapter - 29: Hypocrites part - 1
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After Wonder Woman's recent visit I had no further contact with the Justice League, and if that was not enough to permanently sour my opinion of them. The slope that passed for not being able to eat good food I was not allowed.
Taking food away from a Saiyan? Not a good move if you're asking me....
I was standing in front of a cowering wall with my eyes downcast made me seriously consider how much worse something like Belle Reve could be than where I was now, stuck in space with a group of costumed vigilantes with the martyr complex aggregated to make even the Presence itself blush.
At least they were giving me more than enough time to reflect on my situation and focus on the mystery of "introspection" and my "self-improvement," which had become my only thoughts after the defeat of Doomsday.
So, the only thing I could do was to feel the changes my body underwent with each passing second while lying in my prison cell and let time pass until my jailers made a decision about my fate?
Yes, most likely....
I may not have been a medical genius, but even I could tell that I looked like I had been used as a humvee-sized Doberman chew toy, and the number of X-ray scans plastered on the walls confirmed my suspicions.
Every bone on my body had the consistency of wet gravel. My internal organs seemed to have shriveled or even died, and most of my muscles had separated cleanly from tendons and joints. In short, I was basically a human, a little stronger than normal.
If there had been a normal Kryptonian in my place, the best situation might have been to survive as a paraplegic. While I could feel the Kryptonite radiating poison at me and weakening me accordingly, it was far from being able to kill me.
I was an evil fucking Saiyan.
What did it matter if it took me weeks or even months to fully adapt to this green stone if I could speed up the process with a snap of my fingers?
Doomsday had been an abomination terrorizing the universe with his overwhelming force. And it only took a snap of my fingers in SSJ to transform him in seconds into what would appear after a fight against Hyperion.
If I could destroy such a being, why could I not immediately adapt to this stupid green stone? It is the same principle, and if I am right, there should not be many negative side effects in applying it to myself.
If this would allow me to eliminate this stupid weakness once and for all, then it was only to be gained.
So, in perhaps the craziest act of my entire life, I closed my eyes, made myself comfortable on the wall, gritted my teeth tightly, and tried to use my Ki to accelerate the effect of the Kryptonite on my body and what was left in my bloodstream courtesy of Batman, which I would repay very soon.
After a few seconds I realized that this was a bad idea.... If they have ever picked up a science book in your life, you will know that muscle regeneration is an extremely strenuous and energy-dependent process, and doubly so for bone repair.
Doing it at a time when my body was weakened to the levels of a normal human being was not the smartest thing to do, while I could feel my body undergoing a healing process that would take a long time in seconds.
And it began as the simplest of hums, when the flesh under the skin vibrates and the hair sticks to the end. Then I found myself gasping for breath as my diaphragm expanded and contracted a hundred times a second, emptying the entire room of oxygen in seconds.
My skin began to burn as green lines formed on my body. My cells generated and consumed energy, flooding my body with histamines and adrenaline. The bones reorganized and engaged. My muscles and tendons felt stronger than before, and all the while I was overcome by a fever that made my whole body feel as if I had been submerged in lava.
I felt how my muscles pulsed and became more energetic, how my flesh recomposed itself and gained new strength.
And suddenly, just as it had begun, the process was over. What could have been a healing of days had condensed into ten measly seconds. It was already a challenge trying to keep my eyes open, since I had just consumed the caloric equivalent of a small supernova.
But even through the fatigue, the ever-present pain that had plagued my body had just... It had vanished. With a little Ki control inside me, I could feel as if your body had become stronger since my fight against Doomsday.
I had gained strength, but that was certainly not all that mattered. I could feel that my body was easier to move, and I didn't feel as weak as I had before at mere exposure to Kryptonite, it still wasn't complete immunity but I wasn't far from being able to get it.
But I couldn't even celebrate my progress when a familiar very blue man with a big S walked into the room. I did nothing as I continued my Ki training.
Superman gave me a stern look, arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowed, and jaw visibly clenched like a disappointed father who would have said it was time to talk about something me shouldn't have done.
Had I been in better shape, I would have made a sly joke or a sarcastic remark.... But finally my mouth opens slightly. "I'm not Superboy... Don't give me a look like that" I could only mutter in obvious annoyance.
I could see his mouth twitch with obvious irritation at my comment. But it seemed to take a lot more than that to piss him off as Superman looked at me unimpressed.
"Time to go." He gave her a dry command that left I little choice.
I could only tell myself that if it had been anyone else, I would have simply given a Ki blast in response. It is only his sense of self-preservation that makes me respect the Kryptonian's words, at least for the moment.
I slowly get up from the floor, trying not to let on that my resistance to kryptonite had been improved once again.
Meanwhile, my mind races to almost infinite thoughts per second, which is not really an exaggeration, and all the plans I had conceived become more feasible every second.
Sure, I could have told the whole Justice League to go to hell and used my trump cards to leave, but instead I decided to listen to that little voice in the back of my head telling me to bide my time.
He gives you a perfunctory look, eyes flashing a brilliant ruby for the slightest hint of a second. He's checking me for possible weapons, I soon realize. "The League wants to talk to you" He speaks immediately after finishing the check.
"Oh. I finally thought I was going to be locked up here forever or sent to another dimension like him," I stated, with obvious sarcastic intent in my words.
But he decided not to answer me as I followed the figure of the universe's greatest hero, who although unlike me was a bit smaller, I couldn't help but imagine that this was how a condemned man felt as he walked toward his execution.
The orderlies in dull blue suits scattered at the sight of the two of you, casting looks of reverence and awe at the hero before them, and subtle suspicion and ill intentions toward me. It seemed that I already had a reputation.
Fortunately, it seemed he had arrived, and when I stopped, just before crashing into Superman's back, in front of a large set of double doors with the letters "JL" prominently etched in the center.
"Is it too late to ask about my lawyer?" I could only comment that showing my sharp canines was a really good feeling to finally have control over my emotions.
Superman's answer is drier than you'd expect from the world's most beloved hero. "If you have a spaceship and credentials with the Intergalactic Council, by all means."
A big laugh could not help but escape my lips." Not much choice, is there? I guess I'll have to rely on your hypocrisy" Superman gives me a sideways glance of consideration but does not respond.
As the door opens in front of me, revealing a brightly lit interior dominated by a single table that spans the length of the room. The walls are decorated with all sorts of trophies and insignia, and covered with vivid tapestries of valor and bravery and statues of victorious heroes that make your stomach turn in on itself.
But none of this matters to me. My eyes are glued to the dozen or so figures sitting around the stone table. Each of whom me can name by heart and each of whom examines me with varying levels of suspicion and judgment that made me feel good for some reason.
A man and a woman were seated next to each other, with spiked clubs at their sides and their features concealed by a hawk beak mask.
Thanagarians, Hawkman and Hawkwoman.
A man dressed in armor forged from what looked like fish scales, resting on a shining gold trident. Aquaman himself. I feel a little honored to be so important that the Lord of Atlantis emerged from the ocean.
Which I honestly would have done without, given how insignificant he was.
Then there is Martian Manhunter, silent and cold as ever with ruby eyes that reveal nothing. To his left sits Dr. Fate, who acknowledges my existence with the slightest nod of recognition. The Flash, dressed in his iconic red, goes through countless movements that would have been imperceptible to anyone but me.
Then there is Wonder Woman, with features as rigid as if carved from marble, who clearly still wasn't too happy about our last discussion.
But none of that matters compared to the man sitting at the head of the table, his features hidden behind a hood adorned with a pair of wickedly sharp ears and pale green eyes as implacable as an icy mountain.
A crooked smile rises across my features. "How have you been? Did you manage to have a good day?" I said, as all their gazes rested on me.
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