A slow grin spread across Liam's face as the rewards settled into place. The sensation wasn't just satisfaction—it was the kind of high that came from stacking power on top of power until the system itself started to feel unfair.
"I've already got the Wind God Legs, the Blood-Drinking Mad Blade, and the Six Frost Secrets," he muttered under his breath, flexing his fingers as if testing something invisible. "And now I've added the Demon Blade."
He exhaled, eyes gleaming.
"That's basically the full starter kit for the Wind God."
There was no exaggeration in that statement. The Demon Blade wasn't just another technique—it was a core piece of Nie Feng's entire combat identity. It had followed him through nearly every major turning point in his life, carrying both overwhelming strength and a constant risk of losing himself to madness.
Its reputation wasn't built on hype.
It was built on blood.
Even in later arcs, when Nie Feng clashed head-on with Bu Jingyun, the terrifying secret at the heart of the Demon Blade—the Demon Heart Crossing—remained one of the most dominant abilities on the field. No matter how much the world changed, that technique held its ground.
There was an old saying that suddenly felt very real.
Ten years of disciplined cultivation… could never compare to one day walking the demonic path.
Liam understood why.
Once a martial artist crossed that line, their power didn't just increase—it exploded. The stronger they were beforehand, the more absurd the boost became. The gap between a beginner losing control and a master wielding that same demonic energy with purpose was like comparing a spark to a wildfire.
And the Demon Blade?
It scaled.
It grew stronger alongside its user, turning every bit of progress into exponential output. That kind of "sustainable development" wasn't just rare—it was borderline broken.
Liam's lips curled upward.
"And on top of that, it lets me push everything I've got to the absolute limit."
His thoughts sharpened, calculating.
"Even if I run into someone calling themselves a god… I've got a shot."
That wasn't arrogance.
That was math.
His attention shifted to the other rewards, and the grin widened slightly as something far more dangerous came into focus.
The Mangekyō Sharingan.
Now that was a completely different beast.
Known as the Heavenly Eye, it stood at the peak of ocular techniques in the ninja world. It didn't just enhance perception—it redefined combat entirely. Copying movements, reading intentions, breaking down enemy patterns in real time… it turned every fight into a one-sided analysis.
And that was just the basics.
If pushed far enough, it unlocked techniques that bordered on absurd.
Amaterasu—black flames that burned anything they touched, refusing to extinguish until their target was reduced to nothing. It wasn't just fire. It was judgment.
Still not enough?
Then there was Susanoo.
A massive construct formed entirely from chakra, towering like a war god brought to life. Armor layered over its body, wings unfurling from its back, weapons forming in its hands—it was less a technique and more a walking catastrophe.
Mountains could be split apart with a single swing.
Meteorites weren't obstacles. They were targets.
And the most ridiculous part?
It could replicate the user's own techniques on top of everything else.
Liam let out a low whistle.
"That's not a skill. That's a one-man army."
Size mattered.
Power mattered more.
But when you combined both, what you got was pressure—the kind that crushed weaker opponents before the fight even started.
The only downside was obvious.
Overuse of the Mangekyō Sharingan led to blindness.
But Liam barely spared that detail a second thought.
His gaze shifted to the final reward, and whatever concern might have existed vanished instantly.
Indra's bloodline.
The origin.
The root of the entire Uchiha lineage.
Once integrated, it didn't just enhance the Sharingan—it perfected it. Weaknesses were erased, limitations pushed aside, and the synergy between bloodline and ability created something far beyond their individual potential.
One plus one didn't equal two.
It equaled something completely unreasonable.
Beyond that, the bloodline would reshape his body itself, granting him a natural affinity for Yin-style chakra. That alone was enough to drive entire ninja villages into conflict, with Kage-level fighters willing to risk everything just to obtain something similar.
And yet—
Liam got it bundled in like a bonus.
"Buy one, get one free?" he muttered, shaking his head with a soft laugh. "That's… ridiculous."
What really caught his interest, though, was how everything fit together.
The Sharingan system didn't clash with the martial arts he'd already collected. If anything, they complemented each other in ways that felt intentional. One sharpened perception, the other enhanced execution.
Martial arts… paired with a Heavenly Eye.
See everything.
Break everything.
"Yeah," Liam murmured, satisfaction settling deep in his chest. "This is a steal."
It wasn't even close.
Before the system upgraded, every reward had come with a brutal price tag. He still remembered the Blood-Drinking Blade mission—explosions tearing through the battlefield, his body barely holding together as he fought his way out with three broken ribs and half his strength gone.
That had been survival.
This?
This was farming.
"Now I get it," he said quietly, fingers tightening into fists as the realization locked into place.
Nick Fury.
What a generous man.
By kicking him out of S.H.I.E.L.D., Fury had essentially handed him freedom—the kind that let him move without oversight, without restrictions, without anyone telling him not to help the bad guys.
And every time he did…
The rewards multiplied.
Not doubled.
Not tripled.
Thousands of times over.
It was like someone had taken the effort, chewed it up, and fed it straight into his mouth.
Step by step, his power climbed.
Higher.
Faster.
Unstoppable.
Liam's eyes narrowed slightly, something dangerous flickering beneath the surface.
"Guess I'll have to make this interesting for you," he said softly. "Wouldn't want to waste all those… rewards S.H.I.E.L.D. handed me."
A faint smile lingered as the night deepened around him.
On the other side of the station, things were far less relaxed.
Even with Captain America and Iron Man working together, subduing Spider-Man had been anything but easy. The black symbiote clung to him like a living nightmare, amplifying every movement, every strike, every ounce of aggression.
By the time it was over, both of them were breathing heavier than they'd expected.
Steve rolled his shoulder, grimacing slightly.
"That fight was rough," he admitted, glancing toward the restrained figure. "Way tougher than it should've been."
Inside the armor, Tony ran a series of scans, his HUD flickering with data as he analyzed the substance coating Peter's body. The readings didn't match anything in his database, and that alone made it interesting.
"Whatever this thing is, it's not from Earth," he said, voice thoughtful as he compared sample structures. "Its composition is… ridiculously efficient. Strong, adaptive, and practically alive in ways we don't fully understand."
A pause.
"If we can harness it properly, the potential here is insane."
Steve didn't hesitate.
"Don't even think about it."
He stepped forward, blocking Tony's line of sight without a hint of compromise.
"This thing is dangerous. It needs to be destroyed, not studied."
From his perspective, that was the only responsible option. Letting scientists poke around with something like this was how disasters started—small at first, then spiraling out of control before anyone could stop it.
Tony, of course, wasn't impressed.
He let out a short, amused scoff, completely ignoring the warning.
"Funny," he said dryly, tone laced with sarcasm. "I seem to remember someone being very confident they could handle this in close combat."
He tilted his head slightly, as if reviewing old footage.
"Turns out that was… completely wrong."
Steve's jaw tightened.
"These things aren't normal opponents," Tony continued, tapping a control as new data scrolled across his display. "They react to light, heat, and sound. That's your weakness right there."
"Tony—"
Steve's glare could've cut steel, but it didn't stop him.
Instead, the captain exhaled sharply and shifted topics.
"Where are Natasha and Clint?" he asked, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. "They should've been here by now."
Tony glanced upward, as if tracking something beyond the visible.
"They hit a bit of trouble on the way."
Steve frowned.
"What kind of trouble?"
Tony didn't answer immediately, letting the moment stretch just long enough to be annoying.
"Apparently," he said at last, "they ran into a blindfolded 'superhero.'"
Steve blinked.
"…And?"
Tony's lips curved faintly.
"We won."
The answer came too easily, and Steve didn't like that at all.
Still, before he could press further, Tony moved.
Taking advantage of the brief distraction, he extended a mechanical arm and sliced off a small piece of the symbiote from Peter's body with precise, controlled motion. The fragment writhed for a second before settling into containment.
Tony watched it closely, voice dropping into a quiet murmur.
"How could I, an old-fashioned guy who 'can't keep up with the times,' possibly lose?"