The eyewitness reports from several workers who had escaped the Fukushima nuclear power plant caused a political earthquake in Japan.They immediately informed the U.S. Forces Japan Command headquartered at Yokota Air Base.
High-altitude drones captured clear footage:the same monster that had appeared in New York was now in Japan—tearing apart the outer structures of the nuclear plant and digging straight into the reactor core.
According to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence, after Norman Osborn absorbed radiation sources, both his strength and size would increase dramatically.Thus, the U.S. commander in Japan ordered an immediate strike.
The Seventh Fleet stationed at Yokosuka Port set sail at once.F-15s and F-22s from Yokota and Kadena Air Bases had already taken off, heading toward Fukushima airspace.
However, representatives of the Japanese government voiced strong opposition.Inside the Fukushima plant, the cores of Reactors No. 1 through 4 had not yet been completely cleared.If the U.S. launched an attack rashly, the reactor cores' radiation could leak into the groundwater system.
Japan's underground water veins were interconnected—if Fukushima's groundwater were contaminated, the entire Honshu Island water supply would be at risk.
Honshu was Japan's very heart:Tokyo, Osaka, Yokohama, Nagoya, Kyoto, Kobe—all were there.If clean water became unavailable, Japan's entire economy would suffer a catastrophic blow.
"The reason for this situation,"the U.S. commander Angerella replied coldly,"is because your cleanup of the nuclear plant has been far too slow.If we allow Godzilla to keep devouring reactor cores and growing stronger, all of humanity will face unimaginable danger."
He flatly rejected the Japanese representatives' proposal.
In New York, a tank unit had once attacked Norman Osborn.Their depleted uranium shells—powerful enough to pierce the frontal armor of any modern main battle tank—had been completely ineffective.
There could be no tolerance for Osborn growing stronger.Even if all of Japan's water sources were contaminated—it was a price worth paying.
To ensure his complete destruction, a B-1B strategic bomber had already taken off from Hawaii.It carried two GBU-57A/B bunker-busting bombs, the heaviest of their kind, developed by Stark Industries.Each used a nickel-cobalt alloy casing, designed to be dropped from over ten thousand meters, capable of piercing more than sixty meters of reinforced concrete before its new-generation trigger detonated.
Even Godzilla couldn't survive a direct hit.
"The risk of using bunker-busters is too great,"one Japanese representative said, mopping the sweat from his forehead."They could easily break through into Fukushima's groundwater and release massive radiation into the water system!"
Angerella, increasingly impatient, dismissed his concerns.Intelligence analysts believed that once Osborn reached sufficient power, his first target would undoubtedly be the U.S. mainland.
In America itself, the military couldn't use high-yield weapons freely.But Japan was a different story.
In fact, the B-1B wasn't the only bomber that had taken off from Hawaii—a B-2 stealth bomber carrying a tactical nuclear bomb was en route as well.If the bunker-busters failed, the next step would be a tactical nuclear strike.
"This is a necessary sacrifice for the sake of all mankind,"Angerella said perfunctorily."Once the monster is eliminated, the U.S. will fully support Japan's reconstruction."
"Wait… Lord Angerella," the Japanese representative interjected anxiously,"Our side is willing to send our own forces to Fukushima first—to see if we can handle the monster ourselves.If we fail, you may proceed with your attack."
Angerella gave him a sideways look, tone full of disdain."With what? Those 'civil servants' in your Self-Defense Force?"He had personally witnessed their clumsy performance during the earthquake disaster.
"Not the Self-Defense Force," the representative said."Civilians—volunteer fighters."
"Civilians?"
Angerella didn't look offended—on the contrary, he seemed intrigued.During World War II, American troops had suffered greatly against Japanese martial artists.If not for the strength of U.S. mutants at the time, the Pacific campaign might have been even harder fought.
"Fine. I'll give you one hour.We'll delay our strike for sixty minutes.If you haven't defeated Godzilla by then, we'll take over the battlefield."
Inside a transport plane, the Japanese representative—no longer the meek, deferential figure from before—sat upright in his sling seat, radiating authority.
"This mission concerns Japan's very destiny,"he said solemnly."I hope you all fight with one heart and one will.Defeat the monster in Fukushima at all costs."
In the cabin sat over a dozen burly martial artists.Their relationship with the government wasn't exactly friendly, but the gravity of the situation had brought them together under official coordination.
"Mr. Shimizu, rest assured,"said Kyo Kusanagi, confidence blazing in his eyes.The sun-like crest on his back glowed with fiery brilliance."I alone am enough to handle the monster in Fukushima."
As the most gifted heir of the Kusanagi Clan, he was always confident—sometimes to a fault, but never repentant.
Though uneasy, Representative Shimizu nodded approvingly.
The other martial artists were equally self-assured, boasting of their decades of training and swearing to "teach those arrogant Americans" a lesson if they dared bomb Fukushima.
This transport plane carried Japan's strongest martial artists, and most were optimistic to the point of arrogance.Failure simply wasn't something they imagined.
Only a few remained wary.The official data on the monster was alarmingly vague—just a handful of aerial photos and brief notes describing "extremely tough epidermis" and "ability to breathe high-temperature plasma."
In one corner, Iori Yagami sat alone, his expression dark and unreadable.The oppressive aura around him was enough to make others keep their distance.He glanced sideways at the others, open disdain flashing in his eyes.
But when his gaze drifted to Goro Daimon, he froze slightly.
Daimon's whole body was tense—his breathing sharp and controlled, like a coiled spring ready to strike.He was more alert than anyone else on board.
Before long, the transport plane reached Fukushima airspace.The indicator light inside turned from red to green, and the cabin door slowly opened.The roaring high-altitude wind tore through the compartment.
Most of the martial artists stood firm as mountains, unfazed by the turbulence.
Representative Shimizu braced himself against the gale, forced a smile, and shouted:
"May fortune and valor be with you all!"
-----------------------
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