Chereads / A new life with a system in Marvel / Chapter 86 - The kill move?

Chapter 86 - The kill move?

Bushmaster didn't seem interested in getting involved in the fight; he just watched as his two guards ran toward me. I didn't even bother defending myself, as most people's punches wouldn't scratch or tickle me.

However, when one of them landed a solid punch to my face, I was knocked back several meters, and the blow definitely hurt.

"You guys—" I asked, still surprised, while Bushmaster chuckled slightly.

"Surprised, Mr. Cage? Well, they're not as empowered and perfect as we are. Still, they're definitely stronger and better than many humans. Meet the current subjects of experimentation and enhancement—what I call the Centipede Soldiers."

Hearing this and noticing the small metal items with orange liquid shaped like centipedes on their bodies, along with their increased strength, I could make a connection.

This had definitely gotten more complicated. I stretched my body and took a deep breath, clenching my fists, which created a booming sound that hinted at the power within me. 

"Come on," I said, my voice cold, my blood heating with a hint of excitement as I looked at them.

As I spoke, they charged at me. One threw a strong punch, but I blocked it easily, using more force than before, and delivered a powerful knee to his torso. He didn't stop, though, striking me with his other fist. I dodged my head to the side, but, naturally, there were at least two enemies. Unable to retreat in time, the other soldier landed a hard punch on my side.

Gritting my teeth, I grabbed his arm and, with superior strength, hurled him across the room. I rolled along with the movement, avoiding a hit from the other one. Breathing deeply, I got to my feet, ready to attack again, each move growing faster and stronger as the fight went on.

The battle continued for a while, and I felt confident I'd win. My enhanced healing kept me in the fight, quickly regenerating my injuries. But then I felt a sharp sense of danger and jumped back.

"Ack," I muttered softly, glancing down at a nasty wound on my left side, blood dripping to the floor. Looking up, I saw a metal pipe wielded by John.

"Well, you didn't really think I'd let you win, did you?"

"And here I thought there'd be honor in fighting?" I asked provocatively, hearing his deep laugh in response.

"Hahaha, honor? We both did time, worked with gangs. I'm a criminal—what's honor to me? Tsk."

I didn't respond, just watched as he joined the fight. I felt my strength surge, but Bushmaster's power seemed to rival mine, and with the two others assisting him, the fight wasn't easy.

In the scuffle, I was kicked against a wall, my arms pinned. Before I could break free, the two soldiers, with that strange orange liquid coursing through them, gripped me tightly, twisting one of my arms. I tried to break free, but somehow, they seemed to summon even greater strength than before.

"Hold him tight, boys."

"Let's finish this, Luke?" Bushmaster said, holding the staff tipped with my blood.

I struggled harder to escape, but it was clear I wouldn't be able to in time. I saw Bushmaster grip the staff firmly, drawing it back, muscles and veins bulging with the force he put into it. I could only watch as the staff approached, closing my eyes and thinking of a young woman with dark hair.

"I'll miss you, Jessica… If I'd known it would come to this, I should have called you… or at least been braver about how I feel."

I sighed in reluctant acceptance as I heard the voice delivering my final sentence.

"Goodbye, Mr. Cage. I'm going to be the next Power Man."

**Revised English Version:**

In a split second, I felt a powerful wind sweep through the area and heard another voice.

"Quite cowardly for someone aspiring to be Power Man—not only getting help but also taking down an unarmed opponent."

Hearing the voice, I opened my eyes and saw the figure I knew well hovering in the air before me. The staff that had been hurtling toward me seemed to have been deflected by a gust of wind. At the same time, I felt my arms released and heard screams from the two men who had been restraining me.

I looked over and saw sharp boomerangs embedded in the arms of the men who'd held me. Though I couldn't quite see, faint traces of a pale lunar energy also lingered.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Mr. Cage. I did my duty, and I hope you don't mind my presence. May I lend a hand?"

"Please," I replied, as I pulled myself up, feeling my wounds healing and my fatigue lifting thanks to my regeneration. My eyes remained fixed on the figure, shrouded in mist and clad in all-black attire.

In his left hand, he held a wooden staff tipped with a sphere containing a strange yellow energy. In his other hand, he wielded a small vortex of wind.

"Let's hold one of them down for a few seconds and send the other flying," he said. Without hesitation, I watched him move. His speed was impressive, even to me, and the two other soldiers—already worn from their injuries and energy depletion—were taken by surprise.

The ball of energy struck the man on the left, trapping him midair. His arms and legs were immobilized by the energy, preventing him from moving or escaping. Meanwhile, a powerful tornado lifted the man on the right off his feet, hurling him against a wall.

After this, he shifted his staff to his right hand, and I sensed a smile behind his air of mystery.

Just then, I saw John charging at him with the staff.

"Immortal!" I shouted, trying to step forward, but I heard him say, "Relax."

As the metal staff swung down toward his head, he moved, calmly deflecting the attack with his own staff. Despite the force behind John's swing, he remained composed. I thought I saw some kind of energy emanate from his staff.

In a swift movement, he struck John's neck with his left fist, pushing him back slightly. This time, his staff movements took on a new form—fluid, with the precision of a well-practiced fighter, almost like swordplay, though subtly distinct.

His movements astonished both me and Bushmaster, especially as clouds seemed to form momentarily around him with each strike. I watched him land precise hits on five distinctive points, each attack forcing John to retreat several meters.

"Ack." To my surprise, John stumbled and spat a bit of blood. Though the wound wasn't fatal, it was clearly painful. He murmured something I couldn't catch.

"Well, the fusion of martial arts works beautifully. Just as expected from the system. The blend of Wind and Cloud martial techniques with Zoldyck assassination skills seems to have created a powerful effect, both illusionary and penetrative, though not fatal."

"I'll leave him to you. I'll handle the others," he said, stepping aside. I advanced toward Bushmaster, watching him head for the other opponent, the one still floating in midair like a balloon.

**Revised English Version:**

In a split second, I felt a powerful wind sweep through the area and heard another voice.

"Quite cowardly for someone aspiring to be Power Man—not only getting help but also taking down an unarmed opponent."

Hearing the voice, I opened my eyes and saw the figure I knew well hovering in the air before me. The staff that had been hurtling toward me seemed to have been deflected by a gust of wind. At the same time, I felt my arms released and heard screams from the two men who had been restraining me.

I looked over and saw sharp boomerangs embedded in the arms of the men who'd held me. Though I couldn't quite see, faint traces of a pale lunar energy also lingered.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Mr. Cage. I did my duty, and I hope you don't mind my presence. May I lend a hand?"

"Please," I replied, as I pulled myself up, feeling my wounds healing and my fatigue lifting thanks to my regeneration. My eyes remained fixed on the figure, shrouded in mist and clad in all-black attire.

In his left hand, he held a wooden staff tipped with a sphere containing a strange yellow energy. In his other hand, he wielded a small vortex of wind.

"Let's hold one of them down for a few seconds and send the other flying," he said. Without hesitation, I watched him move. His speed was impressive, even to me, and the two other soldiers—already worn from their injuries and energy depletion—were taken by surprise.

The ball of energy struck the man on the left, trapping him midair. His arms and legs were immobilized by the energy, preventing him from moving or escaping. Meanwhile, a powerful tornado lifted the man on the right off his feet, hurling him against a wall.

After this, he shifted his staff to his right hand, and I sensed a smile behind his air of mystery.

Just then, I saw John charging at him with the staff.

"Immortal!" I shouted, trying to step forward, but I heard him say, "Relax."

As the metal staff swung down toward his head, he moved, calmly deflecting the attack with his own staff. Despite the force behind John's swing, he remained composed. I thought I saw some kind of energy emanate from his staff.

In a swift movement, he struck John's neck with his left fist, pushing him back slightly. This time, his staff movements took on a new form—fluid, with the precision of a well-practiced fighter, almost like swordplay, though subtly distinct.

His movements astonished both me and Bushmaster, especially as clouds seemed to form momentarily around him with each strike. I watched him land precise hits on five distinctive points, each attack forcing John to retreat several meters.

"Ack." To my surprise, John stumbled and spat a bit of blood. Though the wound wasn't fatal, it was clearly painful. And the immortal murmured something I couldn't catch.

"Well, the fusion of martial arts works beautifully. Just as expected from the system. The blend of Wind and Cloud martial techniques with Zoldyck assassination skills seems to have created a powerful effect, both illusionary and penetrative, though not fatal."

"I'll leave him to you. I'll handle the others," he said, stepping aside. I advanced toward Bushmaster, watching him head for the other opponent, the one still floating in midair like a balloon.

I heard him speak and i moved toward Bushmaster. While watching as he went after the other opponent— the one who wasn't floating in the air like a balloon.