Another new day arrived.
The rain cleared and the sun spilled across the world as Leon set out for the battlefield.
This was his second time flying to Afghanistan, so he could be considered quite familiar with the route.
He spent a few minutes on the journey, outpacing more than a dozen Boeing aircraft.
Leon floated in midair, looking down at the blue world beneath the clouds.
His eyes shifted from time to time, locking onto targets one after another with precision surpassing any radar.
It was already nighttime in Afghanistan, and most of the Ten Rings' various bases had started going into lockdown to prepare for rest.
Yet there were always some unhinged terrorists who would harass ordinary civilians as the night grew deeper.
This was the exact group Leon locked onto first.
You're going to be first!
He saw two armed terrorists violently kicking a civilian's front door.
So he tilted his body and instantly plummeted downward.
The shroud of the Biological Force Field allowed Leon to descend as silently as a Grim Reaper.
Upon landing, he dispersed the field, causing the ground beneath his feet to crack outward like a spiderweb with a dull thud.
The sound startled the two terrorists who had just kicked the door open.
They turned around with guns in hand, and seeing Leon's bizarre attire, they immediately walked up cursing.
"Dari? Are you Iranian or Tajik?" Leon asked in Dari.
He had learned most of the Earth's official languages in the last few days, and he could understand the pair's mouths full of Dari curses.
Yet the two remained indifferent, even attempting to jam their muzzle against his forehead.
Leon shook his head. It seems you aren't looking to converse.
"Then goodbye!" He reached out with both hands, grabbed the two by the neck like phantoms, lifted them above his head, and gently snapped their necks.
With two crisp cracks, the two terrorists let their heads droop and stopped breathing.
Leon dropped the bodies casually, and just as he was about to leave, a thought struck him. He looked back at the family huddled together in the house, shivering in absolute terror.
This was a typical Pashtun family.
The elderly father had a full beard, deeply sunken eyes, sallow skin, and cracked lips.
The mother and two daughters wore long robes and dresses, a brown-and-orange combination characteristic of Pashtun attire.
They all looked at Leon fearfully, trembling and unable to speak, desperately hiding their two daughters' heads in their arms.
"You don't need to worry about any consequences from these two dying here."
Leon said in the official Afghan language, Pashto, "It's late, go back to sleep quickly. When you wake up tomorrow morning, the terrorist organizations nearby will all be gone."
With that, Leon turned and drifted into the air, his gaze sweeping over the area to lock onto his next target.
"P-Please!" Just as he was about to leave, a childish voice suddenly called out from inside the house.
Leon looked back; it was the youngest girl in the family.
The girl, around seven or eight years old, had her mouth covered by her terrified mother, but she still struggled to push her mother's hand away and asked timidly.
"A-Are you Superman?"
Leon was wearing the uniform he had made himself, wearing a red cape, appearing at a crucial moment, and he could even fly—he truly looked like Superman.
Still, Leon was momentarily stunned.
He hadn't expected Hollywood's cultural export to be this effective, for a suffering family far away in Afghanistan to actually know about Superman.
...Though thinking about it, before the Americans came here a few years ago, this place certainly had a rich entertainment life as well.
"I'm not, but calling me that is fine too."
Leon first smiled and answered the little girl's question, then comforted the two parents: "It's fine, I'll be leaving soon, and the guys from the Ten Rings will be too."
"So you're here to help us?" the little girl asked suddenly again, and upon receiving an answer, her courage grew. "Just like how you beat up those bad guys on TV?"
Leon was silent for a moment before nodding. "That's right, I'm here to chase the bad guys away. From now on, they won't come bully you anymore."
"That's wonderful! You're amazing, Superman!" The little girl cheered, breaking free from her mother's grip to run toward Leon, wanting to hug his leg.
Leon chuckled, landed on the ground, and crouched down to pat the little kid on the head. "What's your name?"
"Shafika, my name is Shafika Mazzari!"
"Alright Shafika, listen to me. Go back to your room now, lie down in bed, and have a nice, sweet dream. That way, when you wake up tomorrow morning, all the bad guys will be gone. Sound good?"
The little girl didn't agree; she looked up at Leon with big eyes. "Are you leaving already, Superman?"
"Shafika," Leon answered irrelevantly, tapping the little girl on the forehead with his index finger, "you mustn't easily talk to strangers next time. Also, listen to your mother!"
After speaking, Leon stood up, took a step back, and flew into the clouds amidst a sonic boom.
The little girl's family ran out into the courtyard together, staring up at the pitch-black night sky, too shocked to collect themselves.
"Allah protect us, that really was Superman!" The elderly father made a blessing gesture.
That night, the family suddenly found themselves looking forward to life tomorrow.
Leon swiftly cleared out all the terrorists harassing civilians within the borders of Afghanistan.
Every single time, he simply appeared, threw a punch, and left.
The entire routine ended in a second.
The total time spent did not exceed ten minutes.
Having cleared out the foot soldiers, Leon began tackling the terrorist organization's bases.
In a normal strategic offensive, one would attack small bases first, nibbling away at the terrorist forces step by step, and finally drive them out of the country.
Yet Leon certainly wouldn't do that.
His very first stop was the Ten Rings' largest base.
He flew through the clouds, his cape snapping loudly in the high-altitude gale.
Below, a glance across the base revealed over seventy patrolling individuals.
Under Leon's X-Ray Vision, the remaining four thousand and some combat members currently sleeping soundly inside the base were equally laid bare.
Aside from that, he spotted Jericho missiles inside a tent at the camp.
Those were high-powered weapons recently developed by Tony, capable of leveling a small hill with a single round of shells.
"How are there Jericho missiles here? Tony, oh Tony, you really do aid and abet evildoers." Even though Tony was already full of remorse by now, Leon still couldn't help muttering.
He even took out his phone.
"JARVIS," Leon called out, "record everything I see from now on, and send it to Tony after the battle ends."
"Especially the Stark munitions seen during the process. Record every single detail for him to see."
Today, Leon was going to make Tony feel so guilty he wouldn't be able to sleep all night.
"Very well, Master Leon, the camera equipment has been activated for you." JARVIS's voice came through the phone.
Leon nodded silently and dropped downward. "The battle begins!"
This time he made no effort to conceal his trail, plummeting into the Ten Rings camp like a meteorite, moving so fast it generated friction flames in the air.
"BOOM!" A deafening impact resounded across the camp.
The next moment, alarm bells blared, the shouts of an enemy attack rose and fell in succession, and the terrorists rapidly mustered.
Leon stood right in the middle of the camp, using Heat Vision to deal with a terrorist the moment one appeared.
Before the fighting had even properly begun, the terrorists soon found that half their forces were already dead.
Some had just fallen asleep for the night only to be jolted awake, and now faced with such dire news, they began screaming about a monster and started to rout.
Yet they were quickly gunned down in a concentrated barrage by the remaining men.
Still, the survivors weren't faring any better.
They didn't even dare show their faces, hiding behind tents, pulling out grenades, grenade launchers, bazookas, vehicle missiles, and Jericho missiles, intending to blast the invading monster into dust with a single concentrated volley.
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