As Kishibe emerged from the hellish door, his gaze immediately locked onto Stormfront, a sharp, deadly gleam in his eyes.
Stormfront's face twisted with rage, and she screamed, "KISHIBEEEEEEE!"
Her reaction took The Seven by surprise—even Homelander raised an eyebrow, wondering what history existed between the devil hunter and Stormfront. In their minds, they asked themselves, Did these two know each other?
Kang Woo stood silently beside Makima, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he observed.
Makima glanced at Kishibe with a playful expression. "Need any help, Kishibe?" she teased.
Kishibe, in his typical unflinching manner, merely shook his head, exuding confidence without a word. He was sure That he would win. ( nah id win )
Without hesitation, Stormfront charged forward, her body a blur as she flew straight at Kishibe, fist drawn back. In a split-second decision, Kishibe braced himself, sacrificing his left arm to absorb the full force of her punch. The impact was devastating, the brutal strength behind her blow on par with what he remembered of her brother, Klaus Risinger.
Kishibe was hurled back with tremendous force, crashing through two buildings in New York City as Stormfront pursued him.
Meanwhile, Kang Woo calmly activated the full-body Superior Iron Man armor, except for the helmet, but he used it to restrict, rather than amplify, his power. He knew that even a single unrestrained punch could obliterate any one of The Seven.
In the shadows, a familiar weapon appeared—the playful cloud staff, the very three-section weapon Toji had once wielded. With it in hand, Kang Woo walked slowly toward The Seven, each step radiating an air of terrifying calm. The sight was enough to chill their confidence; they had seen of how this man had reduced Homelander to 30% of his prime condition with ease, slashed Stormfront's fingers, and crushed any illusions of their invincibility. ( img here )
Attempting to muster some courage, The Deep stepped forward, puffing himself up with a mask of fake confidence. "Listen up!" he declared, his voice shaky but trying to sound authoritative. "How about you both just surrender? After all," he continued, glancing from Kang Woo to Makima, "you're both out of contracts, right? So… you're powerless against us, the heroes of justice!"
Kang Woo tilted his head, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Very poor choice of words," he murmured.
In a flash, Kang Woo struck with blinding speed, using Playful Cloud to send The Deep flying with a single, powerful smack. The blow launched The Deep out of Manhattan and straight into the ocean, where he disappeared beneath the waves. The remaining members of The Seven watched in horror as their comrade vanished, completely overwhelmed—and when they turned back, Kang Woo was gone as well.
A sudden, chilling voice echoed, "BANG!" followed by a scream of agony. "AAAAAAHHHH! My arm!" Translucent dropped his invisibility, clutching his remaining left arm, which had been severed . His eyes wide with terror, he spotted Makima calmly holding a finger in a gun-like gesture, aimed precisely at where he stood.
The Seven turned their attention to her, and realization dawned—they'd found their target. But doubts crept into their minds as they remembered what they'd been told: Wasn't Makima supposed to be weakened?
A-Train swallowed, thoughts racing. Didn't Madelyn say she was defenseless? Then how can she harm a us The Seven this easily? He shot a quick, nervous glance at his teammates.
Lamplighter tightened his grip on his staff, building up an enormous fireball as a bead of sweat rolled down his brow. I'll need a full blast to even have a chance, he thought, feeling the weight of desperation.
Queen Maeve, brandishing her sword with a fierce resolve, rallied the others. "To arms, heroes!" she shouted. "We'll vanquish this evil!"
Black Noir remained silent, his eyes narrowing, poised to strike.
Makima stood perfectly still, her calm gaze fixed on the Seven as they remained frozen in place, their fear paralyzing them. Her amusement grew, and after a few prolonged moments, she lifted her hand in a taunting gesture, her fingers curling in a silent dare. Come and get me already. Her stance radiated contempt, the unspoken challenge clear. Aren't you supposed to be heroes? And we're the 'evil' you're here to vanquish, right?
Unable to resist, A-Train broke the silence, adrenaline overriding caution as he sped forward. Maeve shouted, "Wait, A-Train! She's provoking you!" But A-Train ignored her, pushing his speed beyond its usual limit to Mach 1.5, his intent fixed on taking Makima down in one decisive strike.
Just as he reached her, Makima's smile deepened. In a swift, fluid motion, she conjured her Sword of Darkness and drove it into his stomach, piercing him cleanly. A-Train's momentum faltered as he crumpled, falling unconscious at her feet.
Lamplighter saw his opportunity and summoned all his power, his hands igniting in a massive fireball. He prepared to launch it, hoping to turn the tide. But just as he released it, an excruciating pain exploded in his spine. He fell to his knees, paralyzed. Through blurred vision, he turned and saw Black Noir standing behind him, the blade lodged deep in his back.
"Why… Noir?" Lamplighter gasped.
As he looked closer, he noticed a faint, ethereal chain extending from Black Noir's back, connecting him to Makima. The horrifying realization struck him: Makima had been controlling Noir all along, using him as her silent weapon, even before she provoked them into attacking.
Queen Maeve's voice rang out, strong and resolute, her eyes blazing with defiance as she tightened her grip on her sword. "You villains… always hiding behind twisted, underhanded tactics, using manipulation instead of honor! We may be outmatched, but we'll stand for justice, no matter the cost!" Her stance was unwavering, a symbol of resilience and courage that had inspired countless others.
Makima regarded her with a chilling smirk, her Sword of Darkness glinting ominously. With one swift motion, she shattered Maeve's sword, splintering it into pieces. Maeve stumbled back, shock flickering in her eyes, but Makima's cold gaze held her firmly in place.
"Speeches are cheap," Makima murmured, her tone dripping with contempt. She glanced dismissively at the fallen members of the Seven, sprawled and broken around her. "Your comrades? They're little more than corpses waiting to fall."
She stepped closer, her expression turning slightly curious as she looked Maeve up and down. "But you, Goody two shoes … you're different. Interesting, even." Makima's gaze flicked briefly to Homelander, who knelt a short distance away, his breath labored, still reeling from the beating Kang Woo had dealt him earlier. "And yet," she continued, her tone almost mocking, "even you, the mighty Queen Maeve, tolerate this… abuse at his hands. How noble… and how pitiful."
Makima slipped her hands into the pockets of her black trench coat, her voice cool and almost inviting. "Come on, Goody two shoes . Let's talk. The more we chat… the less likely innocent civilians get caught up in all this, right?"
Queen Maeve hesitated, her resolve flickering. She could feel the weight of Makima's power—an unsettling presence far beyond anything she had anticipated. Inwardly, Maeve grappled with her decision, knowing that Makima was at the peak of her strength. And this power, the dark sword she could summon effortlessly from her palm… it was something that went beyond what she'd been told.
As Maeve reluctantly resigned herself to follow, Homelander, still bruised and battered in the distance, shouted in protest, "Maeve! If you go with her, I swear, I'll make Elena—" His words cut off abruptly, his voice vanishing as he clutched his throat, panic and fury twisting his face.
Makima's cold, silent glare kept him rooted in place, her unspoken command rendering him speechless. Without another word, she turned and continued walking, her calm steps exuding a terrifying, unassailable authority. Left with no choice, Maeve followed, her mind spinning with questions and dread as she trailed behind the enigmatic woman.
Once they were far enough from the helpless Homelander, Makima broke the silence. Her tone was direct,. "Since you hate boring speeches, I'll keep it simple. I need you to be my eyes and ears within Vought. In exchange, Elena—the woman you love—will be protected absolutely. Anywhere she walks, any country she lives in, she'll be untouchable. You'll also gain more freedom in your daily life. A fair trade, don't you think?"
Maeve's expression hardened. "You know Homelander, right? He can fly. He has absurd charisma. Just a few words from him are enough to sway the public. What makes you think a devil like you, someone who's only just regained her lost power, can stand against him?"
Makima's lips curled into a faint, amused smile. "Your Seven, including Homelander—the one you fear—are nothing but talking corpses waiting for their turn. You saw it yourself. The King has already beaten him to within an inch of his life."
Maeve blinked. "The King?" she echoed in confusion.
Makima's gaze softened for a moment, a rare and reverent look crossing her face. "Yes. Kang Woo, my husband—the one I worship and love. He's the one who crushed Homelander. And now, he's chasing that so-called strongest Supe after Homelander, The Deep. I'd wager he's regretting every moment of his life right about now."
Maeve frowned, processing the gravity of Makima's words before steeling herself. "And what if I refuse your offer?"
Makima's smile didn't falter, but her tone turned sharp and cutting. "Nothing happens. Maybe I'll indulge you with one of those boring speeches you seem to despise. Here's one: you're the only goody two-shoes in a group of corporate slave drivers, led by the worst kind of leader—a man who can't even speak to his own team without breaking them. Keep that resolve for another dozen years, Maeve . Eventually, you'll leave The Seven on your own, but by then… you'll be nothing more than a discarded trashcan, forgotten and irrelevant."
Maeve flinched slightly at the venom in Makima's words but kept her composure. "I'll think about your offer," she said cautiously. "I can't just give you my answer now."
Makima's smile grew darker, her tone still calm but carrying a menacing edge. "Hmm," she hummed in response, seemingly indifferent.
Maeve, summoning her courage and pride, squared her shoulders, speaking with defiance. "Before I even consider answering, tell me this: how are you going to protect Elena? You're powerful in Japan, sure, but you don't know the lengths Vought will go to weaken you or capture you. You've only just realized their plans, haven't you? And that husband of yours—why trust him so completely? From my point of view, you should surrender to Vought, keep the peace for your country."
Makima froze at Maeve's words, and then a laugh broke the silence.
"Heh… heh… heh…" The sound was low at first, but it grew louder, carrying a cold, unrelenting malice. "Ha… ha… ha… HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"You want to know how I'll protect Elena?" Makima's voice turned mocking, almost pitying. "That only happens after you, Queen Maeve, the goody two-shoes, accept my offer."
Makima's smile vanished in an instant, her face darkening as her tone dropped to something far more sinister. "But your insult… questioning my trust in my king…" Her words hung in the air, the weight of her rage building. "That's an insult I will not tolerate. Never speak of my king like that again."
Behind her, a single black wing unfurled, stretching wide and ominous. A blood-red halo glowed above her head, casting an otherworldly light. Around them, crows began to circle, their cries echoing like an omen of death.
Makima stepped closer, her presence suffocating. "As for your question about his power… You have no idea who you're dealing with. The King is playing right now. He's toying with this world because it amuses him. But if his mood sours? If he decides to stop playing? That America you're so proud of…" Her eyes gleamed with cruel certainty. "It will be reduced to ashes. Your continent will sink, and your people will vanish into nothingness."
Queen Maeve, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of Makima's words and the oppressive aura surrounding her, lowered her head. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice subdued. "I won't speak like that again."
Makima's sharp gaze softened, and then she laughed—a stark contrast to her earlier menace. "Pftttt… ahahahaha!" It was almost mocking, yet somehow lighter. "Good. We'll get along just fine, Goody Two Shoes."
She stepped back, her tone now casual but still carrying that edge of dominance. "Don't worry," she added, her words almost teasing. "The King is fair. He rewards everyone equally—based on their performance. Just do your part, and you'll see what I mean."
Meanwhile, on the vast sea surrounding Manhattan, Kang Woo chased The Deep with unrestrained glee, sprinting across the water's surface and creating massive waves with each step.
The Deep's mind raced, panic edging his thoughts. I'm supposed to be the one who rules the sea… yet I'm being hunted by this lunatic!
Desperately, he commanded the nearby fish to swarm Kang Woo, hoping to slow him down. But Kang Woo, wielding Playful Cloud, spun the staff in an effortless blur, striking and scattering the sea creatures with each powerful sweep. The relentless barrage unnerved The Deep further, and in a last-ditch attempt, he signaled for two massive whales to intercept and submerge Kang Woo.
As Kang Woo disappeared beneath the surface, the whales began descending, believing their powerful, coordinated strike had subdued their target. But in the eerie quiet of the deep sea, they had gravely underestimated their opponent.
Meanwhile, back on the sea surface, The Deep surfaced for air, gasping desperately. Hah… hah… (heavy breathing) filled the air as he clutched his chest, his mind still reeling from the impossible sight he'd just witnessed. "How the hell… does that guy run on water?" he muttered to himself, trying to regain his composure. "No one's supposed to have strength like ours… not like this."
Suddenly, the sea split in two with a deafening roar, sending shockwaves that rippled through Manhattan, shaking buildings and startling the island's inhabitants. A violent tremor pulsed through the water as Kang Woo's Playful Cloud sliced through the depths, shredding the two whales that had dared to challenge him.
The Deep's face contorted in horror as he saw the mangled remains of the creatures he'd called to aid him. "D-Dora… Darry… NOOOO!" he wailed, grief and shock twisting his features.
But Kang Woo only grinned, his expression twisted with a manic glee. "No time to mourn, eh, fishman?" With a swift, brutal swing of Playful Cloud, he struck The Deep once more, sending him hurtling through the air like a rag doll. He crashed through building after building, finally skidding to a halt on the streets, a crumpled figure lying just twenty meters in front of Makima.
Makima looked down at The Deep's battered form, her expression cold and unreadable as he lay defeated before her. She cast a glance back at Queen Maeve, a faint smile playing at her lips. "Aren't you going to save him… or not?" she taunted, her voice dripping with mock concern.
Maeve stood motionless, her eyes filled with conflicted emotions. She said nothing, her silence betraying the corruption within Vought and The Seven. Despite everything, she found herself unable to act.
In a sudden blur of motion, Kang Woo appeared next to The Deep. His speed was so immense it gave the illusion of teleportation. The Deep struggled to breathe, looking up in terror as Kang Woo leaned in closer, his grin manic and unrestrained. With almost gleeful malice, Kang Woo began sharpening Playful Cloud, the weapon screeching with each movement, filling the air with an ominous criiieeenkkkk criiiieeenkkkk. Sparks flew in a brilliant display, the edge of the weapon shining brighter and deadlier with each stroke.
Makima's eyes narrowed, observing him carefully. That weapon… it caused tremors throughout Manhattan, she mused. And now Kang Woo intends to sharpen it even further.
Meanwhile, Maeve's thoughts raced as she stood frozen in horror. Is he seriously going to kill a member of The Seven… right here, in New York City, with Vought Tower looming nearby? The consequences of such an act spiraled in her mind: Vought's collapse, the Seven's disbandment, and the inevitable chaos.
Kang Woo shifted his stance, preparing for a barrage of strikes with the now razor-sharp Playful Cloud. His eyes locked on The Deep, who was trembling violently.
The Deep stammered desperately, "H-have mercy! Oh great Asian… from Tokyo…"
Kang Woo's grin widened as he replied, his voice dripping with mockery. "Sorry… all out of mercy."
Before he could strike, Maeve fell to her knees in a sudden dogeza pose, bowing low before Kang Woo, her face inches from the ground. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "This is the pose to beg for forgiveness, right? This humiliating form…" She clenched her fists. "Please… spare his life. If he dies here, in New York, right under Vought Tower, it'll all fall apart. The Seven will be disbanded. Vought's ads, their commercials… everything will collapse. And me? I'll be stuck in an impossible situation."
Kang Woo paused, lowering Playful Cloud slightly as his crimson eyes flickered with amusement. Slowly, he turned his gaze toward Makima, who stood nearby, her dark wing unfurled and her glowing halo casting an eerie light over the scene.
In her mind, she heard Kang Woo's telepathic voice, laced with sardonic humor. Are you advertising me now?
Makima's lips curled into a faint smirk as she responded telepathically, her tone calm yet mischievous. More like we need a slave… a supe Queen Maeve to act as your arms, ears, and perhaps even lick your feet if it comes to that.
Kang Woo chuckled internally, his amusement growing. Technically, even without a spy, I've already pieced together every failed corporate agenda they have. But since you're my first wife and it's your suggestion… I'll listen.
As Kang Woo stood, the tension in the air suddenly shifted with the arrival of a new challenger. Mr. Marathon, the predecessor of A-Train, appeared before the scene with Tek Knight following closely behind. Tek Knight's suit gleamed under the city lights, equipped with cutting-edge enhancements. On his feet were specialized propulsion units, sleek and compact, designed to amplify his speed to Mach 2.5, complementing his natural agility and making him a formidable foe in the realm of speed.
Mr. Marathon struck a heroic pose, pointing directly at Kang Woo. "The hero has arrived to vanquish evil! And I see the first evil right here!" His gaze locked on Kang Woo, his declaration ringing with confidence. "In the name of justice, I'll defeat you!"
With a burst of speed, Mr. Marathon shot forward, his movement creating a sonic boom as he accelerated to Mach 2.5. His fist drew back, aimed directly at Kang Woo, his intent clear: to take down this terrifying opponent.
But to Kang Woo, the self-proclaimed hero was painfully slow. Too weak. Too predictable. With a condescending smirk, Kang Woo muttered, "You sure have a lot of speeches for someone about to die."
Before Mr. Marathon could even register what was happening, a sharp pain erupted in his chest. His eyes widened in shock as blood spurted from his mouth " Gahrgggghhhh" . Playful Cloud, Kang Woo's weapon of choice, had already pierced his heart. The staff, with its broken chain attachments, had been hurled with such precision and force that it impaled him completely, pinning him mid-motion.
Kang Woo appeared next to him in an instant, grasping Playful Cloud firmly. With a dark, twisted grin, he began a barrage of strikes, each movement deliberate and devastating. The first blow shattered Mr. Marathon's ribs, sending fragments piercing into his lungs. The second strike tore through his abdomen, rupturing vital organs with grotesque efficiency. The third and final piercing strike split through his spinal cord, leaving his body limp and lifeless.
Blood sprayed in every direction, painting the street in a macabre display. Mr. Marathon's body collapsed to the ground, a mangled ruin, his once-proud speed and bravado reduced to nothing. Kang Woo stood over him, Playful Cloud resting on his shoulder, its edge glinting with crimson.
He looked down at the corpse, shaking his head mockingly. "Justice, huh? You couldn't even see it coming."
Behind him, Maeve, still in her dogeza pose, trembled as a thought raced through her mind. Is this how I'll end up if I try to fight him? Just like that—reduced to a mangled corpse like Mr. Marathon?
Nearby, The Deep, clutching his battered body, allowed his idiotic musings to take over. I miss my dolphin… and my octopus… I should've made love to them before coming on this mission, he thought, tears pooling in his eyes as his foolish regrets clouded his pain.
Kang Woo ignored their reactions entirely. Instead, he turned to Makima, his crimson gaze sharp but calm. "Makima, what's going on with Kishibe and Stormfront? ," he said .
In his thoughts, however, a rare flicker of frustration emerged. I don't know about that? How is that possible? Even if this world has a new lore structure, I've already uncovered every single detail. And yet, there's one piece of information that managed to escape my grasp?
Makima, who had been watching Kang Woo with an amused expression, saw an opportunity to turn the tables for once. Playfully, she reached out and ruffled his hair, patting his head like a child.
"The man with a thousand plans doesn't know something about his comrades?" she teased, her voice brimming with mock surprise. "Shame on you, Kang Woo."
Kang Woo smirked, leaning in to tease Makima as he kissed her cheek. "Alright, you got your revenge for all my teasing," he said slyly, his tone light but affectionate. "Now, as for my reward, tell me—what makes Stormfront so bloodthirsty that she's ready to kill Kishibe?"
Makima's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of red, a rare sight for the usually composed Control Devil. Inwardly, her thoughts swirled. He's the King, yet he kissed me in public… Her lips curved into a faint smile as she thought, I can't even hide this embarrassment, but… I love you, Kang Woo. And I'm glad you're willing to declare your love for me so openly. I'm still incapable of hiding my feelings when he teases me. Ahhh, if my old self could see me now, she'd be ashamed. However, no matter what he does—whether it's good, bad, or downright trolling—I'm always glad. Kang Woo's tenacity to troll someone might drive others insane, but to me… it's perfect.
Makima took a calming breath, her demeanor shifting back to its usual cool composure. "It's an old conflict," she began. "In the past, the Supes and us, the Public Safety Devil Hunters, crossed paths. It wasn't just a skirmish; it was a war. Kishibe won decisively, killing Stormfront's brother, Klaus Risinger. And now, Stormfront—Klara Risinger—has crossed paths with Kishibe again. Naturally, she wants revenge. That's why she's ready to fight to the death."
Kang Woo chuckled, amused by the unfolding narrative. "So the Nazi super-soldier is out for vengeance, hunting down the Nazi-aligned former ally—where you reside, Makima, The Japanese , The Former Axis Alliance ." He grinned, his crimson eyes gleaming. "What a twist to this plot."
Makima tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening as she added, "As expected, the Chainsaw Devil, who devoured the Nazi Devil and erased its concept, didn't affect you, Kang Woo."
Kang Woo's grin grew as he spoke, his voice brimming with a mix of amusement and dominance. "Of course not. Concepts like that are toys to me, mere constructs of a world that struggles to comprehend true power."
With a fluid motion, the Endo-Sym Armor Mark 50 that encased his body began to shift, the liquid-like metal reforming and elongating. Within seconds, it had transformed into a sleek, high-tech sniper rifle, its barrel glowing faintly with the energy of a long-range beam weapon.
However, before he could position it, Makima raised a hand to stop him, her voice calm but firm. "I believe Kishibe will win."
Kang Woo raised an eyebrow, his expression turning skeptical. "No, you don't," he countered, his tone almost teasing. "The current Stormfront is bloodlusted. If she were her usual Aryan, propaganda-spewing self, then sure, Kishibe might pull off a win—barely. But with this level of aggression, it's insanely hard for him. He'd need to be absurdly smart to have a chance. And even then…" Kang Woo trailed off, smirking. "I still don't know the percentage unless he's cheating… like I always do."
Makima's lips curved into a playful smile. "Let's make a bet," she proposed. "I say Kishibe wins. What about you, Kang Woo?"
Kang Woo chuckled, the sniper rifle on his arm retracting into liquid armor as he met her gaze. "If you win, I'll grant you an S-rank ability right here and now."
Makima's eyes lit up with excitement, a rare expression of genuine eagerness. "It's a deal, Kang Woo. Don't you dare retract it," she said, her voice filled with playful confidence.
Kang Woo smirked in return, his crimson eyes glowing faintly. "I don't make empty promises, Makima. Just remember… when I win, I'll have my own demands."
Queen Maeve, observing the exchange Still in dogeza form , felt a wave of disbelief and frustration wash over her. Is this how public safety devil hunters act? she thought. When their comrades' lives are on the line, they just… make bets and laugh about it?
Meanwhile, The Deep, still lying battered on the ground, his breaths shallow and labored, had entirely given up on thinking. His gaze was vacant, his body too damaged to muster even the energy for his usual idiotic musings.
( there will be double chapter ,if i have enough time but no promises )