39. The Resolve to Become a Monster

Him again.

Still him.

Always him.

Surtur was the one among that whole lot of Dimensional Gods with the greatest obsession with Earth, and he could also be considered the most persistent. The others wanted to come to Earth and get a piece of the pie too, but not to the point of hanging around here over and over again like he did, refusing to leave.

He Shenyan and that entire group of Kamar-Taj mages were almost developing a physical aversion to him. Every dimensional invasion incident, they would run into this red bastard. Not only was he hard to deal with, he always liked to get clever and play schemes he thought were profound.

The Crimson Beast that had just poked its head out had a massive, savage head, and the part that had emerged from the black hole alone was a full two hundred meters long. It looked terrifying beyond words, but He Shenyan could not even be bothered to waste words on it. He had no intention of letting this thing crawl completely out of the black hole.

He clenched his right fist and punched upward. A terrifying sonic boom rang out.

Standing on the ground, T'Challa almost fell over—his electronic eye actually could not capture the mage's figure. Even more terrifying was the fact that a long streak of white force had been punched into the sky. Then he heard the giant beast's wail, and blood pouring down like an overwhelming rainstorm.

He Shenyan turned back and stopped in midair. Looking at the results of that punch, his expression was, unusually, somewhat pleased. He grinned and laughed. "Now I understand why Superman doesn't really like using his brain."

When fists could solve everything, schemes became irrelevant instead.

Surtur's scarlet beast was still wailing. The mage's punch