Herman's fist shot upward, brimming with terrifying power. It tore through the air and slammed into the colossal mech. The machine, dozens of times larger than Herman, had half its body instantly caved in under the devastating blow.
Even with Adamantium alloy mixed into its frame, the mech was as fragile as paper, its deformation robbing it of the ability to stay airborne.
The massive machine plummeted uncontrollably. No matter how Whiplash strained the propulsion system, he couldn't stabilize it.
"Damn it! How can he have this kind of strength?!"
Red warnings flashed across Whiplash's screen. The mech he thought was unstoppable had been badly damaged in just one exchange. Numerous systems were failing at once!
He couldn't stop the descent. The massive steel body dropped like a stone, his display blurring from the violent shock.
"Warning! Head armor severely damaged!"
"Warning! Flight propulsion system offline!"
"Warning! Power reactor critically compromised!"
...
It wasn't just the main body—external weapon systems shattered apart, scattering fragments like fireworks across the sky.
"No!"
His vision shook wildly as the colossal mech slammed into the ground.
BOOM!
The fall hadn't been from extreme altitude, but Herman's punch carried monstrous force. The impact was like a meteor strike, instantly detonating a massive explosion. The entire mountain shook violently as a crater more than ten meters wide tore into the ground.
Rock fragments blasted outward. Dust rolled up like a sandstorm, obscuring most of the mountaintop. But Whiplash didn't black out.
Clearly, his cockpit's shock absorption was excellent. As soon as he hit the ground, the guard mechs hovering overhead trained their cannons on Herman and fired missiles that streaked through the air like venomous snakes.
Whiplash wasn't trying to kill him. He already understood how terrifying Herman was—this was just a desperate attempt to buy time.
The escort mechs were stronger than regular units, but only in firepower. Their technology was hardly superior.
"How many more times will it take for you to realize… these toys mean nothing to me?"
Herman didn't bother stopping the missiles this time. Instead, he unleashed his terrifying speed, weaving through the air and dodging the missiles while dismantling the guard mechs in just a few breaths.
Mechs forged from hardened alloy tore apart in his hands like paper, ripped to pieces effortlessly.
When Herman stopped, the missiles that had been tracking him collided in the sky, exploding into brilliant fireworks. Clearly, this was all within Herman's calculations.
That terrifying control over the battlefield left Whiplash, crawling from the crater, stunned.
Staring at the bursts of fire above, he felt his ordeal was unreal. How could anyone calculate even missile trajectories so precisely?
Is this… even human?
"Gone… all gone."
Whiplash looked at the wreckage scattered around him, unable to believe his entire army of mechs had been destroyed. His own colossal Whiplash mech was more than half-ruined, with only the power system still functional.
The propulsion, weapons, and countless other systems had all been knocked offline by a single punch from Herman.
The so-called power of technology, the pride of human ingenuity—before the man still floating in the sky, it all crumbled into a joke in an instant.
"What… am I even facing!"
Whiplash's voice broke in stunned disbelief. His former arrogance was crushed completely. His conviction collapsed, and through the neural link, the giant battle suit collapsed with it, kneeling to the ground as his spirit broke.
"True insignificance."
Now Whiplash truly understood. Before that terrifying figure in the sky, all his pride and dreams of revenge were meaningless. This man's power was nothing like the mutants or superhumans he had known.
The difference was like heaven and earth.
"He… he's a monster!"
The light had vanished from Whiplash's eyes. In that moment, despair filled his heart. His arrogance was gone without a trace.
All that remained was regret.
If only he hadn't provoked him…
A wave of bitterness washed over him. Why was Tony Stark so lucky… to have such a terrifying monster on his side?
"This shouldn't be my fate… it shouldn't…"
Whiplash's hoarse voice muttered to himself, his expression and tone steeped in sorrow. He knew all too well that he now had no means left for vengeance.
"If there's a next life, remember not to cross me."
Herman stood high above in the sky, his expression cold as he looked down at the colossal mech below. He felt not a shred of sympathy for Whiplash.
Herman had felt compassion for Tony Stark's ultimate fate because Stark had genuinely evolved into a great hero in the future. That was why Herman had been willing to strike a deal with him, even to aid him. Of course, the main reason was that Tony Stark himself held immense value.
Whiplash, however, was the polar opposite of Tony Stark—a man inherently evil, consistent across every version of his story. He had committed countless atrocities, even going so far as to "abuse" women. Whatever fate befell him was simply him reaping what he had sown.
Truth be told, Herman wasn't someone who championed justice. Had Whiplash not appeared before him and provoked him, he wouldn't have bothered with the man at all. After all, one can't kill every villain in the world. He never aspired to be a superhero. This time, he had merely happened upon Whiplash, who then dared to taunt him.
"I won't stand for your humiliation!"
Whiplash's dazed eyes refocused. Overcome with grief and fury, his voice thick with resolve as he drew a gun from the giant mech.
"Hm?"
Even without mind-reading, Herman could guess Whiplash's intent. He appeared before the massive mech as if teleporting.
"I haven't granted you permission to die yet."
Herman flew parallel to the severely damaged mecha's head. His eyes blazed with dazzling golden light as a controlled divine flame beam erupted, instantly melting the alloy of the head section into molten iron.
"Damn it! What are you doing!?"
Witnessing Herman's actions from the control room, Whiplash was horrified and immediately raised his pistol. He wanted to end his own life quickly. He couldn't bear to witness such a horrifying sight. How could human eyes possibly emit flames capable of melting steel?
"What do I want to do?"
Herman refrained from burning the silver-white metal of the control room. His primary concern was avoiding accidental harm to Whiplash. He still needed to examine Whiplash's memory to determine where the deviation had occurred.
"Without my consent, even death will become a luxury for you."
Herman's body leaned into the dissolved head of the giant mecha. Facing the control room constructed of silver-white metal, he simply extended both hands. The blue veins on his arms became starkly visible in an instant.
A terrifying force erupted. It tore the silver-white metal apart. At that moment, Whiplash frantically raised his pistol, aimed it at his own head, and prepared to pull the trigger.
Half an hour earlier, Whiplash, who believed he could conquer the entire United States, likely never dreamed that just thirty minutes later he would be desperate to end his own life.
Whiplash tried to pull the trigger.
But—
As Herman tore through the control room's metal, Whiplash realized with utter horror that he couldn't even press that seemingly simple trigger! It wasn't fear of death. He was horrified to discover he couldn't control his own body.
"Psychic Domination!"
Whiplash instantly recognized the threat. He had engineered this shielded control room precisely to guard against U.S. high command wielding mind controllers. Such Mutants were plentiful in Russia.
Whiplash had never imagined that the terrifyingly powerful man before him also possessed such mental abilities. How utterly favored by God was this creature?!
Half of Herman's body thrust into the control room. His black hair whipped wildly in the air currents, filling Whiplash with boundless dread.
But recalling his own fearlessness even in the face of death, Whiplash forced down his terror and shouted at Herman, who had grabbed him out of the control room.
"You don't even want me to die!"
Whiplash's voice brimmed with bitter resentment. He made no attempt to resist—a man capable of ripping apart a mecha wasn't someone a pistol could stand against. Besides, he couldn't move anyway…
"Relax. I just don't want you to die so easily."
Herman stood atop the massive mech, which had crashed to the ground, raising Whiplash high in his hand. He immediately activated his Mind Invasion ability, beginning to probe Whiplash's memories.
Whiplash let out a scream of unbearable agony. Having one's memories forcibly extracted was not a pleasant experience.
"You devil! Demon!"
Whiplash had no idea what Herman was doing. He only felt searing pain in his brain, convinced Herman was trying to torture him.
"Heh."
Herman ignored Whiplash's screams. The man's past began unfolding before his eyes.
The first half of Whiplash's life was exactly as Herman had known: after his father's downfall, he had lived in the dark underbelly of Russia. Destitute and corrupt, he often relied on homemade weapons to rob others and force his will on women.
Scum.
That word perfectly described Whiplash.
His fate turned several months ago. Faced with a surge of supernatural incidents and terrifying superhumans like Herman, S.H.I.E.L.D. established a new branch to deal with and defend against such threats.
They recruited talent worldwide, offering generous pay. Naturally, the desperate scientist Whiplash tried his luck. But given his character and sordid record, S.H.I.E.L.D. never would have chosen him.
Though he failed their tests, he caught the eye of HYDRA agents embedded within S.H.I.E.L.D. HYDRA liked ruthless men like him, and some of their leaders saw Whiplash as a promising recruit.
So HYDRA made contact. For Whiplash, whether it was S.H.I.E.L.D. or HYDRA didn't matter.
As long as the pay was good.
He accepted eagerly and was sent to a secret HYDRA base in New Mexico, where he quickly began to shine.
In fact, at this point in time, he had even developed power armor before Tony Stark, immediately earning HYDRA's favor.
The memories that followed left Herman speechless. What had happened at Hammer Industries was almost entirely repeated inside HYDRA.
After seeing HYDRA's vast resources, Whiplash grew ambitious. He used them to mass-produce combat mechs.
On the surface, it seemed like he was strengthening HYDRA. Local HYDRA leaders even dreamed of using these mechs to conquer the world.
But Whiplash had hidden backdoors in all of them. He was undeniably talented, even managing to fool HYDRA's own scientists.
With HYDRA's resources, far greater than Hammer's, he had produced an army of war machines. And since the local leaders wanted to rule the world with them, they only encouraged his frenzy.
Looking at it now, HYDRA's leaders weren't much smarter than Hammer's. No wonder the organization was defeated again and again by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the superheroes.
To Herman, HYDRA looked like a pack of fools. Of course, he wouldn't mock them openly—after all, this mess was partly tied to him.
"You've really screwed HYDRA over this time," Herman said, halting his Mind Invasion. The words sent chills down Whiplash's spine as he caught his breath.
"You read my memories!?"
Whiplash wasn't stupid. He instantly understood what had happened.
"Now you can die."
Herman didn't bother answering. He released his hold and hurled Whiplash onto the battered surface of the mech. Beneath their feet, the colossal machine loomed like a fallen dinosaur.
"I'm valuable! You saw my memories! You know my talent! I can build you a vast army!"
Whiplash's reaction caught Herman off guard. He didn't counterattack. He didn't even grab his pistol to end his life. Instead, he clung to Herman's leg, begging for mercy.
"Just kill Stark! I'll do anything for you…" His tone was full of desperation, his eyes pleading.
But—
"You talk too much."
Before Whiplash could finish, Herman crouched slightly. His right hand thrust forward, piercing through Whiplash's chest.
A beating heart was crushed in his palm.
Whiplash's eyes went dull instantly, his words cut short. Before he could even react, he collapsed to the ground, his consciousness swallowed by eternal darkness.
"Sorry. I don't need an army."
Herman had no interest in becoming a fool himself. He despised treacherous men like Whiplash.
He was just about to leave the wrecked battlefield when he suddenly turned back.
He drove his foot hard into Whiplash's corpse, crushing it until flesh and bone split apart.
"This is for my kidney."
Herman spat before finally leaving. Clearly, he hadn't forgotten how the war mech, under Whiplash's control, had smashed into his side earlier.
Perhaps… that was the real reason Whiplash had to die.
...
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