"Serious Punch!"
Peter's fist shot forward like a cannon.
His roar thundered across the battlefield—so loud it completely drowned out Sabretooth's scream as he was blasted away.
"—What are you doing?!"
Wolverine stared, stunned.
"Doing what?" Peter planted his hands on his hips, looking smug. "Kill-stealing. Isn't it obvious?"
That single punch had sent Sabretooth flying far into the distance. By Peter's estimate, the guy had at least been launched halfway across the Hudson River.
With the current flowing as fast as it was—
Even if Sabretooth survived, it would take him a while to swim back.
Of course…
That was assuming his heart—completely shattered by Peter's punch—managed to regenerate before he drowned.
Otherwise, by the time he woke up, he'd probably already drifted out into the Atlantic.
"Th-then what was that thing you shouted just now?" Wolverine asked, still confused.
"Oh, that?" Peter waved a hand casually. "That's called naming your move. The louder you shout, the higher the damage. It also includes psychological pressure, intimidation through sound, and even a chance to damage your opponent's eardrums—causing dizziness, nausea, all that good stuff."
He paused, then sighed.
"Eh, forget it. You wouldn't understand."
A beat.
"You're just Wolverine, after all."
Peter looked at Logan with the kind of sympathy one might reserve for someone intellectually challenged.
"…?"
But before Wolverine could respond, Peter's attention shifted.
Not far away—
Cyclops, Jean Grey, and Storm were struggling in a tough fight.
Meanwhile, a silver blur darted around them at insane speed—
Quicksilver.
"Alright, my turn!"
With another shout, Peter leapt forward.
His explosive speed instantly exceeded the visual limits of both Wolverine and Mystique, who had just lunged toward him.
Mystique's attack missed completely.
And in that moment—
She finally understood how Peter had disappeared earlier.
His speed…
Was monstrous.
But what happened next—
Was even more terrifying.
"Stop."
Peter crossed the battlefield in an instant, appearing right beside Quicksilver.
Then—
He casually reached out.
To anyone watching, his hand grasped at empty air.
But in the next second—
A silver figure slammed straight into it.
As if they had rehearsed it beforehand.
Clang!
"Got you."
Peter grinned.
In his hand—
Quicksilver's arm.
The speedster's eyes widened in disbelief.
In front of Spider-Man—
Speed meant nothing.
His spider-sense could predict movement trajectories in advance—almost like Observation Haki from certain pirate-themed worlds.
Catching someone like Quicksilver, who relied purely on speed to dominate?
Easy.
After all—
Spider-Man could dodge Electro's lightning.
And Quicksilver?
He wasn't the Flash.
Without the Speed Force, no matter how fast he was—
Could he outrun electricity?
"Y-you… how did you do that?!"
Quicksilver stammered.
"Want to know?" Peter smirked. "Have your sister come ask me."
Technically, Peter meant sibling—he wasn't sure if Wanda was older or younger in this universe.
But in English—
That distinction didn't really matter.
Unfortunately for Quicksilver—
He heard it as younger sister.
And in this world, he was indeed born three hours earlier than Wanda.
"Hmph. If Wanda were here, you wouldn't even get the chance to act."
Classic.
Outmatched in combat—but still talking big.
Peter's grip tightened like iron.
Quicksilver couldn't move at all.
Not even a little.
He tried vibrating his arm, trying to catch Peter off guard and escape—
But it was useless.
It felt like—
A grown man holding down a struggling toddler.
No matter how much he struggled, he couldn't break free.
"…Damn it. Why is this guy so strong?"
Quicksilver cursed inwardly.
Strength. Speed. Perception.
Peter countered him in every possible way.
"Here."
Peter casually tossed him toward Wolverine.
Logan caught him, claws extending instantly—adamantium blades resting right against Quicksilver's neck.
One slip—
And his head would roll.
Fresh out of one trap—
Straight into another.
Quicksilver froze, not daring to move.
"Now then—"
Peter turned his gaze toward Mystique and the remaining Brotherhood members—minor players not even worth naming.
"We outnumber you."
A grin.
"And you're losing."
Mystique narrowed her eyes.
"Numbers don't always matter."
Her gaze flicked upward meaningfully.
"Or do you think… you can defeat him?"
Her words instantly darkened the expressions of the X-Men.
Right.
This wasn't over.
Their true opponent—
Had yet to step in.
But Peter?
He just smiled.
"Relax. If he could step in, he already would have."
He shrugged.
"How about this? Why don't you call him down for us? Saves us the trouble of going up there."
He glanced at the Statue of Liberty.
"Wouldn't want to accidentally damage this beautiful symbol of freedom, right? That'd be a loss for all humanity."
Mystique's eyes sharpened.
Up until now, she had treated Peter like an annoying kid.
But this—
This calm, calculated response.
The way he effortlessly pointed out the flaw in her logic.
The complete lack of fear—even when facing the King of Mutants.
She realized—
She had underestimated him.
But she didn't dwell on it.
Instead, she turned sharply—
"Scott."
Her voice was low.
"Are you really going to stop him?"
"Are you really going to fight your own kind… for the sake of humanity?"
Behind Peter—
Cyclops had already raised his head.
At some point, he had aimed directly at the Statue of Liberty.
A fully charged optic blast—
Ready to fire.
Why go up there?
Why risk everything?
Compared to the fate of humanity—
What was one statue?
Destroy it—
And Magneto loses his platform.
His machine—gone.
And more importantly—
The explosion would alert the world leaders across the river.
They would flee.
And Magneto's entire plan—
Would collapse instantly.
So simple.
So effective.
Just one shot—
Pew.
And the world would be saved.
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T/N:
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