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...
"Speed and strength, not bad!"
Feeling the strong air coming from the front, Siegmund threw away the head in his hand and showed a cold smile.
His palms clenched so hard that the muscle fibers look like twisted steel wires.
Under the terrifying force, his whole skeleton made cracking sounds.
A fist shot out, like a heavy cannon!
Luke, who also made his fist swing, had a sudden change in his sharp eyes.
At this time, he had the battle sense and melee ability of Deathstroke -- the most remarkable tactician and assassin in the studio next door.
As a mortal, he had repeatedly singled out the Justice League and Teen Titans' world's top mercenary.
Plundering life was as natural as breathing for the Deathstroke, and his accumulated combat experience was extremely rich.
Up from the superheroes down to the villainous villains.
They were likely to appear on his solve list.
As long as you give enough money, there was no head that Deathstroke couldn't cut off -- so says the advertisement released to the public.
He still had several failures.
In any case, as 'Deadpool's first cousin,' Deathstroke's martial arts skills were considered at the peak level of human beings.
In comparison, it was possible that Lady Shiva, her two senior martial brothers, and her daughter could be challengers.
The close-quarters combat skills of such a powerful being accumulated through countless slayings. How terrifying would it be?
Luke quickly answered.
He tilted his head, avoiding the heavy artillery-like uppercut with precision.
Strong airflow hit his face, blowing the short black hair.
Luke didn't change his expression. He seemed to know that the guy couldn't hit himself with this punch. While Siegmund closed his fist, he hugged his opponent's neck with both hands and pushed forward hard. His knees suddenly went up and slammed into his abdomen.
The series of actions were crisp and agile as if they had been done countless times.
The rich experience from Deathstroke told him that the nerve sensitivity around the abdominal cavity filled with many organs was extremely high.
As long as he struck here, he could immediately cause severe abdominal pain, making it difficult for the enemy to breathe, causing muscle spasms, and quickly losing the ability to fight.
The fact is just as Luke expected.
Even though Siegmund is a 'battleship-class' with outstanding physical qualities, he is still a human being.
Poof!
The powerful knee strike caused Siegmund to spit out a mouthful of blood.
He felt his abdomen turn upside down, his organs stirred into a mess, and his breath choked.
"That hurts!"
Siegmund leaned forward, bowing into a giant lobster, almost kneeling.
In one look, he was crushed by Luke's display of combat sense.
"Not done yet!"
A deep voice from above rang in Siegmund's ear.
The hands that were tightly wrapped around his neck pressed down heavily.
The fragile neck bone made a 'crack' sound, and the pain, like pins and needles, rushed to his brain.
The whole person fell!
Boom!
Siegmund's muscular body, like a cannonball, smashed into the hard concrete floor.
The arrogant face was in direct contact with the dirt.
The blood flowed freely from his nose, and in a short time, his whole face was covered with blood.
In less than 20 seconds, this 'battleship-class' came to a miserable end.
"Asshole! I'm going to twist off ..."
Siegmund was furious, like a roaring bear.
He was about to turn over and climb up when Luke kicked him back.
"I didn't say you could stand up yet. "
There's a strong sense of insult in his playful tone.
Siegmund, who was unilaterally mocked, almost went crazy.
He braced his hands on the ground, his bulging muscles swelling through the German uniform.
With a jerk, he forced off the foot on his back.
Those eyes, filled with anger, were full of blazing energy.
A ball of lightning-like high-temperature aura was about to erupt.
"Die ..."
Before Siegmund could do anything, a hand as strong as an iron pincer was pressed against his face.
It was like a sledgehammer hitting the 'battleship-class' in the face, breaking his nose, and making it bleed.
The uncontrolled and terrifying energy poured out directly from between Luke's fingers, like a dazzling arc of lightning that struck his palm.
For a while, the 'zi zi' sound of electricity was incessant.
"I said, I didn't say you could stand up. Don't you understand?"
Luke's voice sounded faint, without the slightest fluctuation of emotion.
Even if the palm of his hand were attacked by Siegmund's Distortion Halo, it would burn into charcoal.
The terrifying high temperature, coupled with the destructive light ball that can bombard a tank, quickly stripped away the surface skin, and the blood that gushed out was evaporated, exposing the white stubble of bones.
Such a shockingly serious injury on Luke, as if not worth mentioning. It didn't even qualify in making him frown.
The palm of his hand, which was almost wasted, was still holding Siegmund's head like a basketball. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn't escape.
After a few breaths, the charred flesh of the right hand began to wriggle, and the necrotic skin grew back.
Although the healing process isn't fast, it's safe to assume that Luke's palm will be back to its original state in about 10 minutes or so.
"This guy doesn't feel pain?"
Siegfried, the arrogant blond guy, felt chills.
Although they were Aryan Supermen, they had experienced the intense pain of human transformation. They must have solid nerves and a strong will.
But it's also challenging to be like Luke, frontally withstand a shot of Distortion Halo and still be indifferent to the point of apathy.
The young Brigadier General of the Allied side didn't even raise an eyebrow; his eyes remained calm as always.
"I certainly felt it. "
Luke lifted his right hand and firmly grabbed Siegmund's entire head, and slammed him into a wall like he was throwing garbage.
As if he had seen through Siegfried's idea, he said to himself, "The blood and flesh writhing, the sharp pain that pulls at the nerves, and the itch that grows in the skin, like a thousand ants crawling around, makes you want to scratch. "
"The feeling of it all was so clear that I couldn't ignore it, but it was as if I had experienced it countless times before, without any inner turmoil - even I didn't know why. "
The blander the tone, the more the two remaining Aryan Supermen's scalps tingled.
In their hearts, Luke's image had changed from what it was.
It turned into silent fortitude with the will of steel, even if a mountain collapsed in front of him.
In layman's terms, it's getting scarier and scarier!
Luke was far from being as calm as he appeared to be.
It's only the combat sense from the Deathstroke that made him choose to ignore this pain.
The years he spent in the Mob with his Uncle, learning how to kill people, allowed Luke to get used to the cheapness of life, but he didn't get to the level of a heartless person - no matter the broken arm or leg, he wasn't moved and was determined to move forward toward a goal.
Deathstroke had strong self-healing ability, so it is inevitable to adopt a crazy way of fighting, so in the battle, injuries for injuries.
Shot by machine gun, an arrow through the chest, organ rupture ...
He has experienced all kinds of serious injuries.
Injury, self-healing, then re-injury -- this continuous cycle had sharpened Deathstroke's tough nerves.
Like Edelman's metal sculpture, this steel will also become part of the combat sense and is reflected in Luke's body.
'In the future, I can exchange a few more of them, so I might be able to turn Deathstroke's combat sense into my own instinct. '
Luke, whose thoughts were floating, couldn't help but think of using skill cards to brush up on his own proficiency.
'Although the studio next door is a little darker, everyone is talented and speaks well, so it is best to use it as a tool.'
"Let's just go all at once. "
Luke recessed his thoughts, looked at the ruined street, took a step forward, and said: "There's not much time left for you."