◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews. comment
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read 50 chapter ahead on P@treon of which 10 are free Chapters. if you're interested: patreon.com/Heroicverse
------------------------------------------------
Jessica scrambled up, shock written all over her face.
"You didn't use any force! The bracelet never buzzed!"
Anthony stood in place, not a single step taken. One hand rested behind his back while the other beckoned her.
"Strength isn't used like that, my queen."
"You're a raging bull. I…" Anthony smiled faintly, "…am the matador."
"Again."
"Die!!"
Jessica lost it.
She charged again—sweeping kicks, hooks, even wild, unscripted 'turtle-style' swings!
Bam! Slap! Boom!
The training floor echoed with the sound of bodies colliding.
Every single time—
every single time—
however Jessica attacked, Anthony neutralized her within a hair's breadth.
He was like a slippery loach one moment, an immovable mountain the next.
"Borrow force to strike force."
Anthony caught Jessica's flying kick, pivoted, and sent her spinning through the air like a top, slamming her onto the mat.
"Four ounces deflect a thousand pounds."
The instant Jessica threw a punch, he flicked two fingers against the nerve point in her elbow; her whole arm went limp.
Ten minutes later.
"Huff… huff… huff…"
Jessica Jones lay spread-eagled on the ground, drenched in sweat; her white bodysuit clung to her like a second skin.
Anthony, on the other hand, stood nearby breathing evenly, hair unruffled, not a bead of sweat.
That damned bracelet had stayed silent the entire time.
"I… hate you," Jessica said to the ceiling, hopeless.
"I know."
Anthony walked over and offered his hand.
Jessica hesitated, then took it.
A light tug pulled her to her feet.
"What kind of sorcery is this?" Jessica rubbed her aching shoulder. "It's not karate, not boxing."
"It's called Martial Art," Anthony said, uttering that ancient name.
"Wisdom of the Ancients."
"Want to learn?"
Jessica looked at him, then at the still-unclaimed bottle of Macallan.
"…If I master it, can I punch you?"
"In theory, yes. At the very least it'll keep Hulk from flinging you like a rag-doll."
"…Teach me." Jessica ground her teeth.
For that bottle of Macallan—and to wipe the smirk off this blond bastard.
"Excellent." Anthony's grin widened.
"Come, stand straight."
Anthony stepped behind Jessica.
"Tai Chi stresses 'listening to force.' Feel the flow of your opponent's power with your body, not your eyes."
"Relax."
His hands settled on her shoulders.
Jessica's body tensed instantly.
Homelander's palms were big, hot; through the thin bodysuit she could trace every line and degree of warmth.
"I said, relax."
Anthony's voice brushed her ear, warm breath tickling her lobe and raising goosebumps.
"C-could you not stand so close?" Jessica shifted uncomfortably.
"This is close-quarters combat, Jessica," Anthony intoned with mock solemnity.
"Tai Chi is in-fighting—how else could I teach you to generate force?"
"Straighten your back."
One hand pressed her lower abdomen, the other supported the small of her back.
"Here is the dantian. Sink the qi to the dantian."
"Pull your stomach in."
His palm pushed gently inward.
Jessica inhaled sharply and tightened her core.
Their bodies were now almost flush together.
Anthony's broad, hard chest pressed against Jessica's sweat-slicked back.
With every breath the two bodysuits rubbed in subtle friction.
"…"
Jessica's mind reeled.
She was a grown woman; life might be a mess but her physiology worked just fine.
The man behind her—Homelander—Earth's sexiest man and arguably its strongest male alive.
His raw hormonal aura felt like a net ensnaring her.
"Focus."
Anthony sensed her stiffness and racing pulse, secretly delighted yet outwardly stern as a father.
"Stop the nonsense… feel my power."
He seized her wrist and guided her hand, drawing a slow circle in the air.
"This move is called 'Cloud Hands.'"
His motions were slow, gentle.
But he leaned his full weight on her, steering her center of gravity.
"Widen your stance."
With a knee he nudged her legs apart into a steadier horse stance.
The posture—Jessica's cheeks burned; it felt mortifying.
"Are you sure this is… martial-arts practice?" she stammered, biting her lip.
"Absolutely," Anthony said gravely.
"It's called zhan zhuang—fundamentals."
"Now, follow my rhythm."
"Inhale…"
Anthony murmured against her ear.
The vibration of his chest tingled through her suit, rippling down her back.
"Exhale…"
His hands slid along her arms, correcting the angle of her elbows, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin inside her forearms.
Jessica shuddered, nearly collapsing against him.
"Steady!" Anthony caught her waist.
"See? Unstable base—more practice."
At that moment Anthony's inner monologue was a totally different picture:
"Heh-heh-heh… Vought really makes quality bodysuits—top-shelf feel."
"Tsk-tsk, super-heroine physique—this waist, this spring… incredible."
"Jessica looks fierce usually, but blushing? Gap moe, baby."
"System's 'Tai Chi Grandmaster' module is a chick-magnet. Listening to force? More like fondling force."
Yet outwardly he still wore a disappointed look.
"Jessica, your heart's racing too fast. Tai Chi demands a calm mind."
he lectured righteously.
"How will you achieve greatness? How will you be the face of The Seven?"
"I… I'll try…" Jessica wanted to die of shame.
She tried to push him away.
"G-get off me, I'll practice myself!"
She spun around, ready to explode.
But meeting Anthony's sapphire eyes, she froze.
What eyes those were:
focused, earnest, even stern.
He genuinely seemed to be teaching her.
Not a hint of flirtation—just a strict mentor drilling a dense pupil.
"…"
Jessica felt filthy at once.
Here was Homelander, busy running the world, stooping to teach her an esoteric art.
And all she could think was that he was copping a feel?
"Jessica Jones, you're an incurable bitch," she cursed herself.