Chapter 266: A Boxing Round Lasts Three Minutes!
"This mutant guy's incredible! He's literally shooting fire out of his hands!"
"Honestly that webbing car is way cooler if you ask me."
"Wait, hold on — are those turtles ACTUALLY alive, or is this some kind of cosplay thing?"
"Who knew a PRIEST could box like that?! Every single person in Hell's Kitchen is secretly a badass."
"Genuinely feel like Hell's Kitchen could produce an actual wizard at this point and I wouldn't even blink."
"I don't get it, since when did this world even HAVE magic? Hell's Kitchen wasn't like this a few years back — when did it suddenly get this powerful? Were they always this strong and just hiding it?"
"Pretty sure it's all because Ethan took over. You guys DO remember what a dump this place used to be, right?"
"Honestly, Hell's Kitchen feels weirdly safe these days. Sure, everyone's got a hair-trigger temper, but they take care of their own like nobody else. Not gonna lie, kind of tempted to move in myself just to see what it's like."
"Earth just keeps getting weirder by the day. Superpowered people everywhere now — if aliens actually showed up tomorrow I don't think I'd even be surprised."
"Uh, hold up, did I read that right? You're all out here PRAISING Hell's Kitchen? A place literally built on crime and chaos? What is wrong with you people?"
"Right?! Anyone actually complimenting Hell's Kitchen at this point clearly isn't exactly a model citizen themselves."
Watching Pyro and the others take on Revenant, viewers had braced themselves for a brutal, even fight — instead, Pyro's side was actually holding its own, which had everyone talking.
Revenant stood in the middle of the battlefield, surveying the scene around him, genuinely confused.
He'd expected his appearance alone to send everyone running in terror. Instead, these people looked thrilled — like they were watching something genuinely entertaining unfold, not facing down a monster.
Worse, he was starting to notice something deeply unsettling about this place.
One guy could spit raw fire. A car had just spat webbing. Someone nearby was practically glowing gold. And there were turtles — walking, talking turtles, more human than most humans he'd met.
This isn't Earth, Revenant thought, deeply confused. But that made no sense — he'd only been on a plane for a short flight to get here.
He was starting to grasp that there were places on this planet even he hadn't known existed. What infuriated him most was that none of these creatures had needed to become as monstrous-looking as he had to get this powerful.
"RAAAAAAAAAGH!"
Revenant let out a roar that shook the ground. In that moment, something in him surged — strength, speed, all of it climbed a full tier higher, his very presence turning even more terrifying.
He closed the distance to Pyro in an instant, too fast to even register.
Pyro caught sight of him and felt a spike of dread.
He tried to dodge. Too late.
CRACK! Revenant's fist slammed Pyro straight into a wall hard enough to shake the whole structure.
Pyro crumpled to the ground, unable to move, and went out cold moments later.
Watching from a distance, Magneto's eyes went cold. "John's an embarrassment to mutantkind," he said flatly. "First one down." His voice carried nothing but disappointment.
Xavier saw it differently, though. Watching Pyro's crumpled form on the ground, a small, satisfied smile crossed his face. "I'd say John's actually come a long way. His flames are noticeably stronger than they used to be — and more importantly, he stepped up voluntarily to stand against that thing. That's exactly the mutant spirit we should be proud of. Old friend, go a little easier on him."
Magneto didn't argue further, though he privately resolved to put Pyro through some serious additional training. Then again, he considered — maybe it'd be better to hand him over to Ethan for that. Ethan's physical conditioning and close-combat skills far outclassed anything Pyro currently had.
By now, Revenant had dealt with one threat. His attention shifted to the man in priest's robes — Knuckle. As far as Revenant was concerned, Knuckle was by far the most dangerous person he'd faced yet.
In their earlier exchanges, every single one of Knuckle's punches had genuinely hurt — most of the real damage he'd taken so far had come from this one man.
Knuckle, Vongola's Sun Guardian, showed no fear whatsoever as Revenant closed in on him. How could he possibly let this monster get away with hurting Hell's Kitchen?
Instead, he shrugged off his priest's robes, revealing a powerfully built frame and thick, muscular arms. He raised both fists into a boxer's stance, eyes burning with unshakable resolve.
"Let me show you what true power looks like!" Knuckle bellowed, voice ringing with confidence.
The moment he finished, his fists erupted with a light like the sun itself — blinding, searing, like it could melt anything it touched.
Their fists collided. The impact detonated instantly, a shockwave of raw energy tearing outward.
The blast of pressure hit like a hurricane, sending Peter Carker and both Ninja Turtles flying.
The two Turtles tumbled end over end before slamming hard into the ground.
Peter Carker's fuel tank cracked open mid-flight, spilling oil everywhere, and the car went completely dead on impact.
Knuckle and Revenant kept trading blows — Knuckle staggered back seven full steps from the exchange, Revenant only five.
Knuckle's expression turned grim. He knew, plainly, that his raw strength didn't match this green monster's — his only real path to victory was technique.
And technique was exactly where his boxing shone.
Revenant, meanwhile, hadn't expected this particular insect to hit anywhere near this hard.
Impossible.
Revenant kept coming, and for a stretch, the two of them traded blow for blow, neck and neck.
But as the fight dragged on, the light around Knuckle's fists began to dim. His stomach tightened — he knew exactly what that meant. His power was running out.
Damn it, three minutes are up already, Knuckle thought grimly to himself. He'd only recently learned to wield his Dying Will Flame, and right now, three minutes was the absolute ceiling of what he could sustain.
Which happened to line up perfectly with the length of a single boxing round.
Just as Knuckle's mind raced for a solution, a voice rang out from behind him.
"I've got it from here. Actually — WE'VE got it from here. Right, Hulk?"
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