Machine Head—true to his name—was a man with a human body and a head made of metal.
Some people said he was a robot. Some said he was a half-organic cyborg. Others swore he was just a clown in a helmet. No one knew what Machine Head really looked like—maybe what he showed the world was his real face.
But there was one thing everyone in the city's underworld agreed on: Machine Head was the kingpin of the slums and the entire criminal scene. Mayor, councilman—doesn't matter. People in power still had to give him a little respect.
And yet, a guy like that had his door kicked in today.
Boom!
"Shoot him! Don't let him get away!"
"Ahhh!"
Through the roar of explosions, the chatter of gunfire, and the screaming, a brutal figure tore up the stairwell like a wrecking ball—charging straight into Machine Head's office.
He reached the desk where Machine Head was still bent over paperwork.
At the same time, the glass behind Machine Head suddenly shattered.
Crack!
Mark—already in his suit—shot in through the broken window and hovered in midair, landing behind Machine Head like a threat made solid.
"Hey. It's over," Mark said coldly.
"You're not our match."
Mark casually draped an arm around Machine Head's shoulder like they were old friends.
Machine Head didn't flinch. He turned his metal face slightly, almost amused.
"Oh? Isn't this Titan… and Invincible?"
"You're right," Machine Head said smoothly. "I'm definitely not your match. You're strong enough to toss trucks, you can fly… You really do live up to the name. Invincible."
Mark blinked, then awkwardly laughed.
"Uh… haha… I'm not that strong…"
Titan—still in his rocky form—coughed lightly beside him.
Mark's embarrassment snapped into focus.
"Ahem. Machine Head, I'm not saying this twice. If you know you can't win, then I'm telling you to surrender. Now."
Machine Head gave a soft chuckle.
"Surrender?" His tone cooled. "I think you're confused about something."
"Boss," Titan said, voice low and hard. "You lost."
"Lost?"
Machine Head threw his head back and laughed—loud, bright, like he'd just heard the best joke in the world.
"Hahahaha… That's the second funniest thing I've heard all day. The last thing that made me laugh that hard was the whole 'Guardians of the Globe suddenly dropping dead' situation."
Titan's face tightened, fear flickering across the stone.
Mark's grip on Machine Head's expensive suit clenched. He yanked him forward by the lapels.
"Don't joke about people who died!" Mark snarled.
If Machine Head's shady business had only disgusted him, mocking the dead Guardians was what finally made Mark feel real anger.
Machine Head looked up at him, still smiling.
"Haha… you're angry?"
"Anger isn't a good habit," Machine Head said, almost kindly. "It makes you lose judgment. Then you lose awareness. Then you miss the things you could have noticed."
Mark's jaw tightened. He was ready to hammer Machine Head into the desk.
"Boss," a voice said calmly, "is it time?"
Mark froze.
The teleporter—Isotope—was suddenly standing beside Machine Head, as if he'd been there the whole time.
"Of course," Machine Head replied.
Isotope nodded once. "Then…"
His power rippled.
One portal after another opened in the air around them—clean, geometric tears in space.
And then the reinforcements arrived.
A burly man hefting a high-output thermal cannon.
A massive armored machine—towering and heavy, built like a walking tank.
A nasty-looking thug with dozens of elastic tendrils writhing from his chest, enough to make your stomach turn.
And last—
A towering white-furred lion-man, a berserker with a war hammer slung over his shoulder.
Battle Beast.
Machine Head stared at Mark and Titan, voice flat and certain.
"You think I didn't know you were coming?"
"I even knew what time you'd break in and smash up my desk."
"Shit," Mark muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing.
The confidence he'd built up collapsed the instant he saw who'd stepped through those portals. He could admit it: if he had to fight all of them at once, he wasn't sure he could win.
Mark shot Titan a furious look.
"You said you handled the teleporter."
"I thought I did…" Titan said, expression tight, like he couldn't explain it either.
Bang!
Battle Beast moved first.
He lunged like a predator and drove one punch into Titan—so hard Titan's huge rocky body flipped and slammed to the floor.
Titan didn't let himself get finished. He sprang into a counterattack immediately, his stone-coated fists hammering into Battle Beast's face again and again.
But Battle Beast's eyes gleamed with amused cruelty.
He didn't even bother to block.
He just stood there and let Titan hit him.
Titan's punches, against Battle Beast, looked like a toddler swinging at a grown man.
Titan threw dozens of blows before the wrongness finally sank in.
Battle Beast wasn't hurt.
He looked… comfortable.
Almost pleased.
Like Titan's fists were a massage chair.
Battle Beast tilted his head, dissatisfied.
"What's wrong?" he rumbled. "Keep going. Or is that all you've got?"
Titan's face hardened. He stayed silent.
Battle Beast's grin widened into something ugly.
"If you're done… then it's my turn."
He swung.
Bang!
One punch exploded Titan's stone facial armor into fragments. Blood beaded across Titan's forehead. His eyes rolled back, and his body went limp.
Unconscious.
"Boring," Battle Beast muttered, shaking his head as he looked away.
His gaze lifted toward the rest of the fight.
Mark was already on the other three—driving them back with brutal, fast hits.
The tendril-chested villain hissed and launched a swarm of elastic tethers, trying to wrap Mark up.
"I've got you now!"
"You want to test strength with me?" Mark snapped.
He grabbed the tendrils and yanked hard—dragging the villain straight toward him like a hooked fish.
The thermal-cannon brute grinned, eyes wide with violence.
"Die, Invincible!"
He fired.
The blast hit the tendril villain Mark had just pulled into the line of fire.
Boom!
In a heartbeat, the tendril-chested thug was reduced to a molten, ruined mess—sludge splattered across the floor.
The thermal-cannon brute stared in horror.
"Fuck! Tether—my buddy! How did you die like that?!"
Mark shot forward and planted a punch into the brute's face.
The impact ballooned his features instantly. He collapsed, twitchless, out cold.
"That thing is dangerous," Mark growled, stomping down and crushing the thermal cannon under his boot. "Don't bring it out."
Boom!
That was when the armored machine finally moved.
It hit Mark from behind with a crushing, unstoppable punch—driving him down through the floor.
Concrete burst. The office deck caved in. Mark vanished into the level below in a single violent drop.
"Ugh—" Mark spat as he pushed himself up in the lower level, staring at the ragged, human-shaped hole in the ceiling with pure irritation.
Above, the armored machine's voice crackled with static.
"Target eliminated…"
Machine Head's smile returned.
"Not bad. That's why I—"
He didn't get to finish.
A black streak shot upward like a bullet.
In an instant, the armored machine was split clean in half.
Metal screamed. The two halves fell apart.
Mark hovered back up through the wreckage, chest heaving, eyes blazing.
"Who's next?!" Mark shouted. "None of you can fight worth a damn!"
All the confidence he'd lost—thanks to Jovian—came flooding back in one rush.
Mark was back on his feet.
"So," Battle Beast said, stepping forward at last, a cruel grin spreading across his face.
He tightened his grip on the war hammer and walked toward Mark.
"Looks like you can fight, huh?"
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