"No, no need."
The captain quickly shook his head and refused the offer.
If he hadn't known where the chocolate candies came from, he might have accepted them out of politeness or hunger.
But now he did know.
Those chocolate candies were made from the Zeta Rians—transformed by Buu's bizarre power.
That knowledge alone was enough to kill his appetite.
Even though the Zeta Rians were the enemy, it didn't mean he wanted to eat them. That just crossed a line he didn't even know he had. The thought of chewing on something that used to be alive, even if it was hostile, made his stomach churn.
Without hesitation, Buu shrugged and popped the candy into his own mouth, chewing it with relish. He licked his lips contentedly before turning his gaze toward the remaining Zeta Rians scattered across the battlefield.
But for Buu, just one piece of chocolate wasn't nearly enough.
Fortunately for him, there were still plenty of Qitarians around. More than enough to satisfy his bizarre, ever-hungry appetite.
With a wicked grin, Buu lifted his pudgy hands into the air. A strange force radiated out, and all the Zeta Rians who had been on the ground suddenly floated upward, struggling in midair. They looked around at one another, confused, their weapons slipping from their grasp.
Then came a burst of pink light—bright, blinding—and in the next instant, they were gone.
Vanished.
If someone had the strength, even being turned into food by Buu wouldn't mean death. Their consciousness and powers could remain intact, just like what happened when Gohan Buu had turned Vegeta into a chocolate bean during their past battle. Even as a piece of candy, Vegeta had retained his power and will to fight.
But these Zeta Rians weren't Vegeta. They had no such resilience or strength. Once turned into food by Buu, their lives ended—permanently.
Buu's method of floating them into the air was simply a preparation step, a more efficient way to transform them en masse. And under his relentless magical assault, the number of Zeta Rians on the battlefield rapidly decreased, visibly thinning with each passing second.
All the while, the captain merely stood and watched.
There was no need for him to act.
Buu had everything under control.
The scene soon caught the attention of the other Avengers. Iron Man (Tony Stark), Thor, the Hulk, and others approached the center of the battlefield, drawn by the chaos and spectacle.
They stopped when they reached Buu.
He stood there with a pleased grin, cheeks stuffed with snacks. Or rather, soldiers-turned-snacks. Bits of biscuit crumbs and cake frosting coated his lips.
The Avengers stared at the bizarre pink creature, half in shock and half in disbelief.
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Uh... Cap? Mind explaining what exactly we're looking at?"
The captain let out a tired breath and gave them a quick rundown. "That's Buu. Jack summoned him. He has the power to turn enemies into food—and then eat them."
Tony blinked, then looked again at the cookie Buu had just devoured.
"You mean... he turned all those Zeta Rians into that?"
He pointed at what appeared to be a vanilla cupcake in Buu's hand, frosting still sparkling with energy.
"Yep," the captain confirmed.
Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "And here we were breaking our backs trying to fight these guys with fancy tech and god-hammers. Meanwhile, Pinky over here is snacking his way to victory."
It was hard to believe, but the results were undeniable.
They had all noticed the drastic drop in enemy forces. The seemingly endless wave of Qitarians was thinning fast. Now they knew why.
"Dad was right," Tony muttered, chuckling to himself. "You really do use aliens to deal with aliens."
He glanced sideways at Thor. "No offense."
Thor shrugged. "None taken. But even I'm baffled by this creature."
Tony watched Buu wolf down another handful of transformed enemies. "I wonder if this guy can handle the big ones."
He gestured toward the sky, where several colossal behemoths—the Zeta Rians' massive war-beasts—were still flying overhead, casting ominous shadows over the city.
Those monsters weren't just massive—they were devastating. Just one of them had already torn through half a block earlier in the fight.
Tony turned back to Buu.
"Hey, big guy," he called. "Can you turn those things into food too?"
Buu followed Tony's pointing finger and locked eyes on the behemoths in the sky. His pupils widened with joy.
Big food!
Huge food!
The possibilities were endless.
He could already imagine what to make out of them.
Chocolate again? No, that was boring.
Cake? Maybe one.
Cookies? Could work.
He had choices—so many choices.
Without another word, Buu raised his hand and fired several beams of light toward the sky. The energy sliced through the air, wrapping around each massive creature. In the blink of an eye, the monstrous war-beasts shimmered and twisted into massive, floating desserts.
One became a towering chocolate cake, layered with cream.
Another morphed into a gigantic waffle, oozing syrup from its sides.
One even turned into a gallon-sized bottle of strawberry milk, floating harmlessly in the air.
The transformation was instant and final.
The creatures weren't stunned—they were completely gone. Replaced.
The Avengers' expressions shifted from awe to outright numbness.
Even the captain, who had witnessed the first transformations, was stunned by the sheer scale and creativity Buu used in crafting his "meals."
Numb. That was the only word for it.
Why numb?
Because there was no other way to react.
Buu didn't just win—he humiliated the enemy in the process.
He made the Zeta Rians into food.
And not even one kind of food!
He was so casual, so methodical about it. Every transformation was unique: some became pies, others became macaroons, and one unfortunate flying beast even became a sushi platter.
It was a mixture of comedy and horror.
Tony glanced at the captain and whispered, "It's like a twisted version of Willy Wonka meets interstellar warfare."
The captain didn't even respond. He was too busy trying to comprehend the absurdity playing out in front of him.
The Avengers soon noticed something else.
The waves of Qitarians had stopped coming.
For the longest time, they had been spilling through the wormhole nonstop, like an army without end.
But now?
Nothing.
Not one new soldier.
Apparently, even the Zeta Rians aboard the mothership had figured it out. Buu was turning every new soldier into consumables. Sending more forces would be like willingly donating food supplies to the enemy.
They hadn't invaded Earth.
They were stocking Earth's pantry.
From the other side of the wormhole, the remaining Zeta Rians began to hesitate. The numbers dwindled. Some even turned back.
Then Tony's voice rang out: "Look!"
He pointed skyward, toward the wormhole.
The fleet of battleships was retreating.
"They're running!"
Thor narrowed his eyes. "Cowards."
"No," Bruce said, arms crossed. "They're just... smart. They realized they've been turned into lunch."
Tony's smile faded. "If they get away now, they'll just regroup and come back. Next time, they'll plan around Buu. They'll build countermeasures."
Everyone suddenly grew tense.
Jack had summoned Buu this time, but none of them fully understood how he had done it. Even Jack himself hadn't explained much. It felt like a miracle more than a tactic.
What if they couldn't summon him next time?
What if Buu didn't come?
The thought sent chills down their spines.
This wasn't a normal win.
This was a one-in-a-million stroke of luck.
And if the Zeta Rians came back prepared, Earth might not be so lucky next time.
"We can't let them escape," Tony said firmly.
The captain nodded. "Agreed. If they regroup, they'll be ten times harder to stop."
But the problem remained.
They didn't control Buu.
They didn't even know if he could be controlled.
He was just... here.
Powerful, helpful—for now—but also a ticking question mark.
Jack, the boy who had brought Buu to Earth, stood silently nearby. He watched the wormhole, watched the enemy ships pulling away, and clenched his fists.
He didn't know if he could summon Buu again.
He didn't even know why Buu had answered the call this time.
But in that moment, Jack made a silent promise to himself:
Next time, he would be ready.
Next time, he wouldn't rely on a miracle.
Because next time... Earth might not get a second chance.
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