Andrew vs. Iron Monger

Nathan Hawke was intently listening to Translucent, who was undergoing a personality design session for his superhero persona—a Q&A-based approach to shaping a hero's image.

Outside the room, a team of analysts listened carefully to Translucent's responses, jotting down notes.

"Question: Little Duck, Little Goose, Little Chick, Little Fish—which of these four animals is different, and why?" the interviewer asked.

"Little Chick," Translucent answered without hesitation.

"Why do you think Little Chick is the odd one out among these animals?" the interviewer asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"Because Little Chick can't swim." Translucent's answer left everyone in the room stunned.

The analysts outside paused mid-breath at his response.

They also understood why Nathan Hawke had brought them in—because the man inside had a very "lively" way of thinking.

After everyone had left, Translucent bounded out cheerfully.

"Boss, how's it going?" he said with a grin to Nathan Hawke.

Looking at the beaming Translucent.

Nathan Hawke felt that this Translucent was completely different from the one he'd seen in The Boys.

If Translucent knew what he was thinking.

He'd definitely say: Damn, everyone in The Seven was a piece of work—talk was all crude and violent.

Especially that bastard Homelander. Translucent's legs would go weak just seeing him.

Not like here. Sure, Nathan Hawke and Wesker looked like the kind you didn't want to mess with.

But at least they weren't like Homelander—unpredictable, where your life wasn't your own in his presence.

So over these few days, Translucent had gradually let go of the sense of crisis he'd felt coming here, unfamiliar with the place and people.

"Get yourself ready. Your hero name will still be Translucent. We'll also equip you with a suit to make your invisibility more complete."

With that.

Nathan Hawke went to an office with a massive glass wall, through which he could see what was happening in the room opposite.

Wesker had already won over some of Stark Industries' researchers, but a portion remained, unwilling to leave because of Obadiah Stane.

Obadiah Stane had promised them he'd handle the matter, and Stark Industries' high salaries were indeed tempting.

Nathan Hawke watched them sign papers from inside the room, quietly relieved. These people would be the researchers crafting weapons for the superheroes.

Next, he headed to a lab deep beneath Umbrella Corporation, where virus research was underway.

Nathan Hawke watched their busy figures without interrupting, walking straight to the lab director.

"How's the research going?"

A scientist with reading glasses didn't look up at Nathan Hawke, instead staring at the data on the screen and shaking his head.

"This virus carries excellent high infectivity and lethality, causing severe genetic chaos and destruction within a species' body."

"Moreover," the elderly scientist said with a hint of unease, "these viruses are weapons."

Sure enough, a sharp glint flashed in the scientist's eyes.

"If that's the case, I suggest..."

"Death row inmates."

Seeing no reaction from Nathan Hawke, the scientist continued: "Based on feedback from implantation in primates and other organisms, this virus will cause some organisms to mutate into bio-engineered monsters, with high infectivity and extreme danger."

Speaking of this, he inexplicably thought of his other superior, Wesker.

"Ask Wesker. He'll make the call." Nathan Hawke said after a moment's thought.

"Alright."

The reverse engineering of the virus was progressing slowly, but everything was orderly.

Just waiting for the next good news.

Back at Hawke Group.

Listening to the intelligence Andrew had brought back.

"I saw a guy who's a bit bald with Tony Stark's... is that his girlfriend? They were both rushing off in a hurry. Is it about to start soon?"

Andrew, who had been assigned to monitor the situation under Nathan Hawke's orders, flew back immediately after seeing something similar.

"Didn't get caught?"

"No, don't worry." Andrew raised an eyebrow.

Nathan Hawke just rested his chin on his hands, staring straight at him.

Andrew immediately caved. "Uh, okay. I almost got caught." He quickly raised both hands in front of him, then added, "But, but—I didn't get caught. Trust me."

"Tonight is your official debut performance as a superhero. I'm looking forward to seeing how you do."

"Of course, don't worry." Andrew gave Nathan Hawke his full assurance.

"Then let's begin."

The team was in position. Andrew changed clothes and set off first.

Nathan Hawke and Translucent had also changed, preparing to quietly watch this "Marvel" opening show from a certain vantage point.

Everything unfolded exactly as the script dictated.

Bang!

The pathetic and arrogant Tony Stark was thrown through the air, his Iron Man Armor's faceplate clattering to the ground nearby.

"Sir, armor integrity has dropped to 15 percent."

"Shit!"

Obadiah Stane, piloting the Iron Monger, strode forward and looked down at him.

To be honest, he had to admit he really enjoyed this view.

Inside the Iron Monger, Obadiah Stane sneered, manipulating the mech's arm to grab the immobilized Iron Man Armor.

He lifted it high, both hands clamping around Tony Stark's throat.

A thin energy blast struck the Iron Monger's body.

"Uh..." Tony Stark wore an expression of mingled embarrassment and pain.

"Goodbye, Tony. My Stane Industries will carry on your legacy." Obadiah Stane inside the Iron Monger could no longer contain his glee, laughing aloud.

"So did I arrive too late?"

An abrupt voice rang out.

Obadiah Stane froze, then turned his head toward the source.

"Super V?"

Obadiah Stane frowned, swinging his right hand—still gripping Tony Stark—to aim at Andrew, who was playing the superhero Super V.

"Die, brat."

The six-barreled rotary cannon on the right arm opened fire.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat~

Andrew dodged left and right, moving gracefully through the air.

With a burst of speed, he circled directly behind Obadiah Stane.

"Killing you would actually be pretty easy," Andrew murmured in the sky.

"But this is my debut fight—I need to look cool."

He raised a hand and swept it down. A blast of Psychic Power slammed into the Iron Monger's left arm.

Crack!

The Iron Monger's left arm bent and shattered. Tony Stark was flung away, landing on the ground like a corpse.

"Go!"

Andrew roared, unleashing a Telekinesis: Shockwave at the Iron Monger below.

Boom!

Part of the Iron Monger's outer armor was blasted apart.

Rumble.

Pressure came in waves, layer after layer, like rolling surf.

The ground took a violent hit, cracking like glass, fissures spreading outward. The cracks widened, rubble scattering around, a long gash tearing through the earth. Heavy dust filled the air, the whole scene turning treacherous.

"Whoa~"

Andrew's brow arched, though his face was hidden behind the mask.

The Iron Monger raised its creaking right arm, the six barrels trying to spin up again.

Clink, clink, clink~

The sound of jamming came in fits and starts. The Iron Monger's right arm snapped off entirely and crashed to the ground.

Andrew appeared behind the Iron Monger, pressing his right hand against its armor.

With a thought, an invisible ripple erupted from his palm and spread outward in an instant.

Obadiah Stane inside the Iron Monger was knocked unconscious on the spot.

"Next, I drag him out, the media shows up, and tomorrow Super V makes the headlines."

Just thinking about becoming a superstar-like superhero, admired by everyone, made the corners of Andrew's mouth curl up.

He hauled Obadiah Stane out of the Iron Monger's cockpit.

And at that moment, the news crews who had been waiting swarmed in, cameras flashing at Andrew.

Andrew held the unconscious Obadiah Stane in one hand while waving to the media friends ahead with the other.

"Hey, Super V, I remember you." Tony Stark, lying nearby, shouted loudly.

Seeing the media arrive, he couldn't just play dead—he was the star, the star!

"Wow, it's Tony Stark. But what's he doing here?" The journalists all turned in surprise, staring over.

Coulson, watching this from a distance, had a grim expression.

A roar came through the phone: "Didn't we seal off the area? Why are there still media here? Clear them out!"

Coulson hurried over—he didn't want to get reassigned to Siberia.

"Excuse me, excuse me. Official business."

The agents who rushed in immediately began driving the journalists away.

"Oh, shit. This is why I hate them." One journalist glared at the agents with resentment.

Coulson quickly approached Andrew.

Coulson pulled out his badge and said, "Hey, Super V, nice to meet you. I'm—" Before he could finish, Andrew shot straight into the sky.

Leaving only the endless clicking of cameras echoing in Coulson's ears, telling him: Super V is real. He really can fly.

Meanwhile, Nathan Hawke sensed the fluctuation of the villain he had summoned growing stronger.

"Translucent, let's go."

"Oh, okay, boss." Translucent took one last look at the scene, then turned and left.

The journey was silent.

They arrived at the empty Combat Laboratory on the Hawke Group campus.

Translucent stood quietly behind Nathan Hawke, eyes wide, not daring to miss a single detail.

He could already vaguely sense what Nathan Hawke intended to do.

The light of a hexagram illuminated the space.

Snake-like arcs of electricity crackled and hissed.

"Where is this?" The newcomer's body blazed with white electric light.

Energy form? Nathan Hawke narrowed his eyes, sizing up the man before him.

"I'm Electro. Where's Spider-Man? Where is Spider-Man?" Seeming to sense that Nathan Hawke was not someone to mess with, Max Dillon simply pointed at him and demanded.

Then.

"Ah! My power?" Max Dillon realized in terror that he was slowly reverting to his original form.

Hadn't he turned his body into pure energy?

How could this be?

Watching the man scream in disbelief.

Nathan Hawke finally understood exactly who he had summoned.

Electro from Ultimate Spider-Man—Max Dillon.