Manhattan.
Deep within the ruins.
Peter Parker was pinned under a concrete slab, like a gecko covered by a book.
His Spider-Sense was going wild, but he couldn’t move his body.
His mask was half-crooked, revealing half of his dust-covered face.
He squinted, trying to make out the silhouette in front of him.
Someone was standing there.
Against the light, he couldn’t see their face clearly.
The Hulk appeared behind that person, and Peter opened his mouth, wanting to save them.
Then that person’s finger lit up.
Not like a flashlight.
It was the Sun.
Pure white light burst from Luke’s fingertip, and the entire block was instantly engulfed in daylight.
No heat, no Impact, only light.
Overwhelming light that made it impossible to open one’s eyes.
Luke’s expression was calm.
One of the Glint-Glint Fruit’s abilities.
The principle is simple—instantly release one’s own light particles to the extreme value of the visible light spectrum, directly overloading the retina’s photoreceptor cells.
In layman’s terms, it blinds you.
He didn’t want Peter to recognize him right now.
Given how chatty this kid was, if he knew his identity, he’d be pestered at work, and he probably wouldn’t get any peace after work either.
Luke could imagine the scene.
He’d be picking vegetables at the supermarket, and Peter would poke his head out from behind a shelf: “Mr.
Luke!
That move you did yesterday was super cool!
Can you teach me?
Oh, what do you usually eat?
How much protein do you consume?
What do you think of my web fluid formula—” At work, Peter would be chattering beside him.
After work, Peter would be chattering beside him.
Eating, Peter would be chattering beside him.
Using the restroom—Peter would be chattering from outside the door.
No.
Absolutely not.
Spider-Man, who was under the rubble, happened to be looking up, and the white light poured directly into his lenses.
“Ah—!
My eyes!” A scream came from under Peter’s web mask, and his hands instinctively covered his face.
He lowered his head to confirm that Peter had completely lost his sight, and his body flickered.
Light transformation.
His body instantly decomposed into countless light particles, passing through gaps, over rubble, and under the concrete slab.
The next second, Spider-Man in the rubble disappeared.
The second after that, on the roof of an intact building three blocks away, Spider-Man appeared out of thin air, sprawled on the rooftop floor, still rubbing his eyes.
“What, what just happened?
Is anyone there?
How did I get here?
Wait, was I teleported?
Like in Star Trek?
That’s awesome, but next time could you at least say hello—” No one answered him.
He was the only one on the rooftop.
Luke had returned to the battlefield.
He stood still, looking up.
In front of him was the Hulk.
To be precise, it was a Hulk furiously rubbing his eyes, snot and tears flowing.
That flash of light had clearly hit the big green guy too.
The Hulk’s eyes were red-rimmed, tears streaming down like a floodgate had opened, his two fan-sized hands covering his face, looking like a child bullied in kindergarten.
If that child was three meters tall and weighed a ton.
Luke tilted his head.
“Scary~” The Hulk lowered his hands from his face, his bloodshot eyes glaring at him.
Luke spread his hands, his expression innocent.
“Look at you, suddenly appearing behind me, scared me to death~” The Hulk opened his mouth, a low growl squeezed from his throat.
Luke took half a step back, making an exaggerated startled expression.
“See, scaring me again.” “Roar—!!” The Hulk lost it.
He let out a loud roar, a sound that shattered all the broken glass within a hundred-meter radius again.
The asphalt road beneath his feet cracked into a spiderweb pattern, and his muscles visibly swelled at an alarming rate.
His skin’s green deepened.
His shoulders widened.
Even his height grew by half a head.
An aura ten times more terrifying than before emanated from the Hulk, and the air became heavy, as if filled with lead.
Luke stroked his chin.
“Hmm?” He watched the Hulk’s constantly expanding body, like observing an interesting scientific experiment.
“As expected of the Hulk~” Luke’s tone carried a sincere sense of admiration.
“After such a heavy beating, his combat power can still increase.” He paused.
“Truly terrifying~” These words were spoken very lightly.
Like praising a dish as delicious.
Like saying the weather is nice today.
The Hulk understood.
He wasn’t sure how much he understood, but he understood the tone.
It was mockery.
Naked, undisguised mockery.
Like an adult watching a child exert all their strength, then nodding slightly and saying, “Hmm, not bad.” The Hulk’s rationality completely snapped.
He let out a roar loud enough to be heard three blocks away, his right fist raised high, the fist larger than Luke’s entire upper body.
That punch came down with a whoosh, tearing through the air, and the ground began to tremble even before the fist landed.
Luke raised his hand.
His index finger.
Just one index finger.
He pointed at the Hulk, like a teacher calling out a distracted student in class.
“Since that’s the case—” Luke’s tone was as calm as if he were reading a menu.
“Yasakani no Magatama.” A golden light shot from his fingertip.
Not a light beam.
It was a laser.
A golden laser, as fine as a hair and as bright as a star.
Fast.
So fast that the Hulk’s fist was still suspended in mid-air when the laser had already passed through his chest.
The Hulk’s movement stopped.
Not slowed down.
It stopped.
As if someone had pressed the pause button.
His massive body remained in the punching posture, frozen in place.
At the center of his chest, a fist-sized circular wound emitted white smoke.
A penetrating wound.
From front to back, completely through.
One second.
Two seconds.
The golden laser passed through the Hulk’s body and continued forward.
Then— An explosion.
A golden fireball erupted behind the Hulk, and the Impact carried heat waves in all directions, completely pulverizing the remaining damaged buildings in the explosion.
Flames soared into the sky, a mushroom cloud rose, and half a block was engulfed in an orange-red glow.
The Hulk’s enormous body swayed.
Then, like a tree whose roots had been severed, he slowly fell backward.
Boom— The ground trembled.
Dust rose, then slowly settled.
The battlefield fell silent.
Completely silent.
Luke looked at the Hulk, who had already transformed back into Dr.
Banner, retracted his finger, and blew on his fingertip as if to clear non-existent smoke.
Hmm.
Clean and precise.
On time for clocking out.
…
On the bridge.
Nick Fury gripped the railing with one hand and his phone with the other, his knuckles white.
“Luke!” he yelled into the receiver, “Are you alright?!” No one answered.
He yelled again.
Still no answer.
Fury’s heart sank halfway.
Thirty seconds ago, he was still bickering with General Ross on the helicopter.
Then a report came from the ground communicator—Luke, location signal offline.
Fury immediately stood up from his seat.
Offline meant two possibilities.
First, equipment damage.
Second, the person was gone.
Fury chose not to think about the second one.
He rushed off the helicopter, stood on the bridge, and looked through binoculars towards the Manhattan battlefield.
He couldn’t see anything clearly.
The smoke and dust were too thick.
Then he saw a flash of light.
White.
Flashing in the ruins.
It was Luke.
Fury let out half a breath of relief.
Still alive.
Good.
Still lively and kicking.
Even better.
He was about to call again, telling Luke to report the battle situation.
Then that golden laser appeared.
A golden pillar of light shot from the center of the ruins, piercing straight through half the block, hitting a distant building.
Explosion.
Mushroom cloud.
Impact.
Even across the bridge, Fury felt the ground shake beneath his feet.
Fury had been in the military for thirty years.
He had seen missiles, laser-guided weapons, and tactical nuclear bomb tests.
But he had never seen anything like this.
That laser passed through the Hulk, then exploded behind the Hulk, creating a two-hundred-meter-diameter destruction zone.
Fury’s hand, holding the phone, momentarily forgot to tremble.
Beside him, General Ross’s jaw dropped, hanging at his chest.
He stood with his mouth open, his cigar falling to the ground, scorching his shoe without him reacting.
“This…” Ross’s voice sounded like he was being choked, “Is this damage a human can cause?” Fury didn’t answer.
Because he didn’t know either.
Fury said nothing.
His mind was rapidly calculating how many digits the property damage would likely be.
Seven digits?
No, eight digits.
Possibly nine digits.
The phone suddenly connected.
“Hello?” Luke’s voice came through the receiver.
His tone was calm.
Very calm.
As calm as if he had just ordered at a bubble tea shop and was waiting for his number to be called.
“Director, the Hulk is handled.” Fury’s mouth twitched.
“Come collect him,” Luke added.
Fury took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
The stone in his heart had fallen.
But another, larger stone pressed down.
He turned his head to glance at the mushroom cloud still rising in the distance, then turned back to the phone.
“Luke.” “Hmm?” “Next time, could you, perhaps, not make such a big commotion?” The other end of the phone was silent for a second.
“Weren’t the crowds evacuated?” Fury’s eyebrow twitched.
“Besides,” Luke’s tone was righteous, “this is called leaving a mark on the job.”