Long Live

Ever since coming to this world and learning its true nature, James had repeatedly pondered the little he knew from his previous life.

He knew that a bizarre population of mutants had emerged, one that humans had always despised and that struggled to survive.

He also had a rough idea that, in the future, an overlord from beyond the stars would leave all life in the universe utterly helpless and despairing. Yet one thing among these many details had always puzzled him.

That was Wakanda, the hidden nation said to possess supertechnology and wondrous resources.

He couldn't understand how a primitive tribal nation on the same planet, one that kept itself isolated and hidden from the outside world, could become the most technologically advanced country.

After Daniel escaped back to Canada, he gave a thorough and detailed account of what he had seen and experienced while imprisoned and enslaved in Wakanda.

According to him, apart from knowing basic forging and how to use a wondrous metallic mineral, Wakanda was no different from the other indigenous tribes of Africa—in fact, it was even more ancient and primitive.

As for the nation's leader, the man known as the Black Panther, he possessed strength and speed beyond anything an ordinary person could imagine. When he donned the indestructible Sacred Gold Armor, he seemed like a true god.

So James had come up with two possibilities. Wakanda's technology might have been passed down by another species or civilization. Or perhaps they had yet to develop any interest in the modern world, technology, or industry, and were still living in ignorance.

If it was the latter, then the powerful technologies they would one day possess must have originated from Vibranium's unique properties. James couldn't believe that this tribe had studied a little modern science and then, working in isolation, managed to rapidly surpass the entire world and become the most technologically advanced place on Earth.

"King of Wakanda, what's your name?"

"Azzuri."

The Black Panther king gave his name in Hausa, his expression carrying an inexplicable solemnity.

"Can we talk? I—"

"Devil! Wakanda will fight you to the death," Azzuri said, each word deliberate.

"Don't die, Azzuri. Let me see just how far the power of the Black Panther and Vibranium can go." James, too, grew a little more serious. To some extent, he gave the Black Panther the respect due to a warrior.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

James's Jing Qi erupted completely. It was the first time since his latest evolution, after reaching an entirely new realm, that he had unleashed his full vital force.

This time, the extreme heat and shock waves no longer spilled out around him as they had before. It was as if all his energy had been perfectly contained within him. Only faint, pale-red ripples of force surrounded his body, like steam rising from his blood.

His feet lifted slightly from the grass, his toes naturally hanging down, just a few centimeters above the ground. His half-length hair floated gently.

Bang!

A violent sonic boom assaulted everyone's eardrums. James blasted through the air and lunged at Azzuri. For a more effective release of force and impact, he didn't extend his bone claws. Against armor that they couldn't pierce, the claws' force and kinetic impact were no match for his fists.

He wanted to see whether the Black Panther, protected by Vibranium, could withstand the full force of his destructive power.

All the tribal warriors in the valley, along with the Wakandans watching from distant cliffs, slopes, and homes, had gone numb. Some silently wept; others clenched their teeth, their bodies stiff and twitching.

"Waaah!"

A child's cry rang out—no one knew whose. The shrill, piercing wail of the little one echoed through the valley, reaching every Wakandan's ears.

Azzuri had no chance, nor any point, in fighting back. James's punches slammed into him one after another at close range. Even the Black Panther's reflexes couldn't keep up with his speed.

Azzuri had no idea how many punches the man could throw in a second. Hundreds? Or thousands?

Whum! Whum! Whum!

The sound of James's punches and kicks no longer resembled ordinary impacts. Moving faster than sound, his attacks blended into a continuous, high-pitched hum. His and Azzuri's forms blurred together as they flickered across the ground.

Vibranium might have been one of the most wondrous metal structures in the entire universe. Every blow James landed—whether spiraling, vibrating, or explosive—was largely nullified by the Vibranium. Pure kinetic energy was even easier to dissipate.

He deliberately avoided attacking gaps in the armor and the parts of Azzuri's body left exposed. He wanted to see what his strongest power could do.

Even a wondrous creation like Vibranium couldn't be without limits. James's full strength still wasn't enough to destroy it—or even damage it—but the Black Panther inside the Vibranium armor, Azzuri, was still flesh and blood.

Azzuri was left with only the ability to think. His eyes, nerves, and body couldn't keep up with this terrifying man. He could feel just how powerful the man's attacks were. For the first time in his life, he was injured while wearing Vibranium armor.

The armor had absorbed at least eighty percent of the impact and destructive force. Even so, some wisps of the opponent's strange, almost energy-like attacks still reached his body.

Blood began to trickle from the corners of Azzuri's mouth. His internal organs were being crushed; his muscles and bones began to fracture. His ears rang all over, and his eardrums might already have ruptured. His vision grew increasingly blurred, and his consciousness began to fade.

Soon—or perhaps a long time later—everything finally stopped. James gripped the armor on Azzuri's chest and gently lowered him to the ground.

He could already feel Azzuri's strength ebbing away. With injuries like these, whether he could survive—even with the Black Panther's extraordinary abilities—was still uncertain.

"Wa-kan-da! Long live!"

The Dora Milaje captain raised her spear, her eyes bloodshot, and roared until her voice cracked. Every Wakandan warrior and even the civilians took up arms and charged forward in a frenzy of rage.

James shook his head helplessly. He had no interest in wielding his blade against ordinary people. He looked down at Azzuri, whose lips were moving soundlessly, and his expression gradually turned cold.

Crackle, crackle.

The wood snapped and popped in the flames. In the mine tunnel, many Wakandans lay scattered about, some dead, others alive. Looking closely, most of them still moved faintly, their bodies trembling as they let out low groans of pain.

James and Azazel stood on a circular stone platform. On either side of it stood a life-sized black panther statue. Plants that glimmered with a blue-violet light grew in the fertile black soil below the platform.

Azazel's long tail coiled around a plump woman adorned with ornate feathers and metal ornaments. The devil's tail tightened around her neck, lifting her into the air as she struggled to draw in a breath.

Azazel's tail was the strongest part of his body.

"What exactly does this herb do, and how do you use it?" James asked the woman in Hausa.

He nodded to Azazel, who dropped the woman. She fell to her knees and gasped for air, then glared up and cursed in a language James couldn't understand.

"Devil! You'll never take Wakanda's secrets!" The woman finally answered in Hausa, then tried to spit in James's face. The Jing Qi around him deflected it, sending the spit back into her own face.

James stood and gave the woman a light kick. She screamed as she flew into the wall and passed out.

He patted Azazel on the shoulder, who was more than half a head shorter than him, and said casually, "Son, time to get to work."