Chapter 551

Putting on a good show was an art.

Timing mattered. Every character had a moment when they needed to step onto the stage, and getting that timing wrong could ruin the entire performance.

If the Twins had dropped Killian the instant he burst in, the President and everyone around him would never have felt the danger. They would have watched the fight from a position of complete safety and wondered what all the fuss was about.

But if the Twins waited too long and let Killian slaughter everyone in the room, the survivors would have blamed them for that, too. They had the power to stop him. Why hadn’t they done it sooner? Every unnecessary death would become another reason to resent them.

So the timing had to be perfect.

Let the agents die until the President and the others truly believed their lives were hanging by a thread.

Then send Luthor in to turn the tide.

That was how you earned gratitude.

And, as far as the Twins were concerned, Killian had gone from thoroughly obnoxious to surprisingly useful.

The man had provided an excellent assist. Not only would he make their sales pitch and negotiations considerably easier, he had also volunteered to provide a live demonstration of exactly what their enhanced warriors could do.

He had even flown more than a thousand li just to help them out.

What a dedicated customer.

Unfortunately, the Twins seemed to be the only people actually enjoying the demonstration.

Everyone else had apparently decided that the safest viewing position was underneath a table. They were peeking out from beneath it with just enough courage to keep one eye on the battle.

Salorathis frowned.

The performance had reached its climax. All that remained was the applause.

She calmly addressed the President.

"Mr. President, the crisis is over. Our company’s warrior can defeat that enemy of the state and guarantee your safety."

"Mm-hmm..."

The President nodded enthusiastically.

He remained under the table.

Whatever you say, he thought. I’ll believe every word.

But there was no chance in hell he was coming out from under here.

The Eredar Twins exchanged a glance and shook their heads.

That was apparently the limit of the man’s courage.

There was no point pushing him.

Outside, Killian hauled himself to his feet after being sent flying for the second time. He stared at Luthor in disbelief.

"Who the hell are you?!"

The intelligence he’d received from the Vice President had contained no mention of anyone like this standing beside the President.

Could this be some secret weapon the Secret Service had kept hidden? A final line of defense, specifically created to protect the nation’s leader?

Luthor answered without hesitation.

"I am Doomfist. Prepare to die."

He launched another punch.

The force behind it was absurd.

If the armor’s wearer had been Rhodey or Tony, there would have been no time to evade it. They would have had to block the blow head-on.

Killian, however, wasn’t either of them.

He twisted aside.

The massive fist tore through empty air, leaving Luthor’s guard open for an instant.

Killian immediately countered with a left hook aimed at Luthor’s abdomen.

His ability to pull that off had nothing to do with superior mastery of the armor. In fact, aside from flight, Killian barely understood the suit’s other functions.

His own body was simply faster and stronger than Tony’s or Rhodey’s.

He had relied on his enhanced reflexes to evade the punch and counterattack in the same motion.

But before his fist could reach Luthor’s stomach, a normal-looking hand closed around it.

Luthor caught the punch.

At the same time, his retracted right arm rose high.

Then he brought it down toward Killian’s head.

Killian immediately recognized the danger.

He kicked Luthor squarely in the chest, using the impact to wrench his captured arm free and launch himself backward.

The armor covering his arm, however, remained in Luthor’s hand.

Luthor glanced at the empty space where Killian had been, then at the chunk of armor in his grasp.

He grinned.

"Quick."

His left hand tightened.

Metal groaned.

The armor slowly crumpled in his grip before he casually tossed the crushed remains aside.

His gaze shifted to Killian’s exposed arm.

That wasn’t even the mutated part.

The man’s ordinary arm had possessed enough strength to rip itself free from the armor.

Interesting.

Killian snorted.

"Hmph."

Then he tore off the rest.

His suit and shirt ripped apart as he stepped completely out of the armor.

The armor might have protected him from Luthor’s blows, but it also slowed him down. If he stayed inside that metal shell, he’d eventually get hit anyway.

Without it, he could rely on his greatest advantage.

Speed.

One clean strategy remained.

Hit the enemy before the enemy could hit him.

There was only one problem.

Without the armor hiding his face, Killian’s identity was now plainly visible to everyone in the room.

The President stared.

"It’s him..."

The face was familiar.

It took him several seconds to place it.

Then recognition struck.

He whipped around toward the high-ranking military officer standing nearby.

"You’re going to explain this to me when we get back."

Killian had been cooperating with the military for years.

Otherwise, where had he obtained the funding for his Extremis research?

And why had so many wounded soldiers become his test subjects?

The President’s anger was practically radiating off him.

Why couldn’t the military’s enhanced-human programs ever just behave themselves?

Years ago, when Ross had still been a general, the military had managed to create the Hulk.

At least that one had worked out.

The Hulk had become an Avenger.

Ross had become a national hero.

Everyone had come out looking good.

And now?

Now they’d produced a terrorist who was trying to kill the President.

Fine.

The military could stay out of enhanced-human research from now on.

He would personally assign the work to a civilian research organization.

His gaze drifted sideways.

Salorathis was accepting a cup of coffee from a visibly trembling Alice.

The company had just saved the President’s life.

They had demonstrated remarkable loyalty.

And their work with enhanced humans was clearly impressive. Their warriors were powerful, but they also retained their sanity instead of losing control.

If further investigation showed the company was clean, perhaps the entire project could simply be outsourced to them.

A very convenient conclusion.

Unfortunately, Killian had no idea he’d just delivered another assist.

He was still focused on the much more immediate problem of defeating Luthor.

He suddenly dropped low.

One hand touched the floor.

Then he launched himself forward on all fours.

The movement was feral and explosive, like a hunting cat pouncing on its prey.

Without the armor, Killian was more than twice as fast.

Luthor immediately tensed.

Judging by Killian’s approach and his low trajectory, the attack was clearly aimed at his legs.

Luthor shifted to block.

But at the last possible moment, Killian straightened.

He sprang sideways, planted one foot against the wall, and used it to propel himself into a spinning kick.

His heel slammed into Luthor’s head.

Killian landed behind him.

Luthor staggered.

He recovered instantly and spun around, throwing a powerful backhanded punch.

Killian seemed to have anticipated it.

The instant Luthor swung, Killian leaped into the air.

His left foot planted briefly against Luthor’s fist.

His right knee drove into Luthor’s face.

Then he vaulted behind him again.

Back and forth.

Again.

And again.

Killian exploited his superior agility to dart around Luthor’s attacks, constantly changing angles and striking from unexpected directions.

For the moment, he had the advantage.

The President and the others saw the situation deteriorating.

They immediately vanished beneath the table again.

Yes.

This was definitely the safest place.

Salorathis, meanwhile, was becoming increasingly embarrassed on their behalf.

"Luthor," she called. "Enough playing around. Finish that monkey."

"RAAAAGH!"

At his master’s command, Luthor roared.

He swung his fist, forcing Killian to retreat.

His voice thundered through the room.

"You dare make me appear so pathetic before my master?!"

Killian smirked.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

Apparently, Killian had developed a strange belief that removing clothing increased combat power.

He grabbed his shirt and suit jacket and tore them apart.

The fabric fell away, revealing two dragon tattoos across his torso.

His skin flushed crimson.

"No more lies," he declared. "I am the Mandarin, the ruler of the world!"

Luthor answered by bringing his fist down.

Seismic Slam.

The impact shattered the floor.

The ground between Luthor and Killian collapsed all at once.

Killian’s triumphant expression lasted exactly one second.

He hadn’t expected the attack.

The floor gave way beneath him, and he plunged into the lower hold.

Luthor followed without hesitation.

The two fighters disappeared from everyone’s view.

A moment later, Luthor landed below.

"Ha!"

He roared.

The fiery emblem across his mutated right arm suddenly seemed to come alive. Flames appeared to move beneath the surface, burning through the markings like something alive was trapped inside.

"This body was forged by the Supreme Lord who stands above gods and demons."

His fist tightened.

"There is no possibility of defeat."

Luthor leaped.

His entire body rose into the air, pulled forward by the weight of his right fist.

Then he came crashing down.

The blow descended with the force of a mountain.

Killian looked up.

He couldn’t evade it.

No matter where he moved, that enormous body covered his escape.

He gritted his teeth and raised both arms.

Then he braced himself.

He could only take it head-on.

Doomfall.

The impact drove Killian downward like a nail hammered into wood.

He punched straight through the deck beneath him.

Then through the next layer.

And finally out of the aircraft entirely.

"AAAGH! I’ll be back!"

Killian plummeted through the open sky, arms and legs flailing.

Then he saw the ocean below.

His panic eased slightly.

The fall was still potentially fatal, but his Extremis-enhanced body was extraordinarily resilient.

Surely he wouldn’t die from this.

Even if he was badly injured, his regenerative abilities should restore him in no time.

The aircraft continued onward.

It quickly became distant.

Far enough.

Safe enough.

Then Killian felt something inside him go terribly wrong.

Power suddenly surged through his body.

His eyes widened.

"No. My overheating problem was already—"

BOOM.

He never finished the sentence.

His body erupted in midair.

When the smoke cleared, nothing remained but ash drifting toward the sea.

Back aboard the aircraft, Salorathis slowly lowered one finger.

The performance was over.

The curtain had fallen.

And the defeated had made their final, spectacular exit.