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Chapter 155 - Chapter 155: Is This His F*cking Solution? Saitama's Single-Play King Is Here!

"Stark!!"

Rhodey's face twisted in horror.

The furnace-like ruin roared, the air growing searingly hot as several figures emerged, glowing like molten beasts.

Extremis Soldiers.

Each radiated a savage, bestial aura.

And in front of them—

a giant elephant, taller than even an ordinary war elephant, its cracked skin glowing with magma veins.

An Extremis Beast.

"Roooaaar!!"

Waves of heat blasted outward, forcing Rhodey to stagger back.

"Stark… we need a solution fast. Those soldiers are bad enough, but this thing? It's the real problem!" Rhodey said, face pale.

From the rubble, Stark climbed up, blood on his lips—but shockingly intact. Even after being stomped by the Extremis elephant, only his shirt had been scorched.

The T-type serum had made his body sturdier than Extremis could ever achieve.

"Tony Stark! Kill him!" one Extremis soldier roared.

Gunfire erupted—Rhodey's rounds rattled against them, useless.

"Support's almost here, Rhodey," Stark smirked, wiping his mouth.

And then came the thunder.

Engines roared across the night sky, trails of flame cutting through the darkness.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of suits of Iron Man armor descended like a steel rain.

BOOM!

A massive ten-meter-high suit crashed down, crushing the Extremis elephant and several unlucky soldiers into paste.

Extremis regeneration was powerful, but not limitless. Push the body past its limits, and even it would shatter.

The Stark Armored Corps had arrived.

Rhodey stared, dumbfounded. Stark had sworn to throw the armor into a museum… and now this.

"Men need hobbies, Rhodey. Right, JARVIS?" Stark grinned, patting his shoulder.

"Indeed, sir. Target lock engaged," JARVIS replied.

Through heat-signatures, every Extremis soldier was marked. Hundreds of suits circled them like predators around prey.

They were strong, yes—fast, powerful, resistant to heat. But they lacked range.

And Stark's machines excelled at range.

In seconds, the Extremis beasts were shredded under torrents of missiles and gunfire.

"See? Simple. After this, maybe we still have time for dinner," Stark shrugged.

One suit dragged over the infamous Mandarin, only to reveal… an actor. A pitiful, drunken actor.

"…This is the Mandarin?" Rhodey muttered, speechless. The so-called terrorist kingpin, now groveling, spilling everything he knew.

But then alarms screamed.

"Sir, extreme heat detected—exceeding prior Extremis records by over three thousand degrees!" JARVIS warned.

Before Stark could react, one suit split apart mid-air, molten heat slicing through it like butter. The Mandarin actor fell in pieces to the ground, burned away.

Rhodey's face drained of color. "Stark… this is bad. I'll need a suit, now!"

Armor swarmed, protecting them, as the ground trembled.

From the shadows emerged a new wave of horrors—magma-cracked lions, tigers, wolves, rhinos. Extremis Beasts, entire packs of them, glowing red-eyed and snarling.

"Extremis Beasts, huh? Just animals. Against technology—"

Stark's words cut off as a red flash streaked past his face. One of his suits fell in pieces before it could even move.

Cold sweat poured down his back. If not for his serum-enhanced reflexes, his head would be gone.

The culprit—a blazing cheetah, faster than the eye could follow.

"…Okay. Maybe I need to redefine the word 'beast,'" Stark muttered.

"What do we do?!" Rhodey demanded, panic in his eyes.

"Relax, Rhodey. In situations like this, you stay calm. JARVIS, prepare—"

"RUN!"

Before Rhodey could react, Stark's boosters flared and he blasted off, leaving the suits to fight in his place.

Rhodey stood frozen. "..."

…Did this bastard just say run?!

Heart hammering, Rhodey cursed and followed, drenched in sweat.

Elsewhere, Saitama was closing in on Killian's trail.

"Master, Stark and Rhodey are in trouble. Projections exceed JARVIS's capacity. Should I go assist?" came the voice of Saturday Sale from his ring.

The bald hero didn't hesitate. He never needed backup. He always punched through alone.

He nodded once.

The black ring detached, whirring into the sky.

The King of Single-Play was on the move.

(End of Chapter)

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