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*****
"Snap!"
With the sound of fingers snapping, the figures Mike had manifested dissolved into motes of light and vanished.
Once manifested, these people were flesh and blood. Before the manifestation time ran out, even if they were killed, they would not disappear.
But if Mike actively canceled them, or if the time expired, they would vanish completely—without leaving behind so much as a single drop of the blood they had shed in battle.
Seeing Mike's action, Mr. Sinister froze in shock, then broke into wild delight as he stared at him.
"So this is your ability!"
Mike gave no reply. Instead, with a flick of his palm, he produced more than a dozen character cards from the Naruto series. After manifesting them, he sent them charging into the battlefield.
This time, the figures included Konoha jōnin led by Kakashi, joined by Gwen and the others—more than enough to handle the situation at hand.
Mr. Sinister's gaze burned hot as he looked at Mike. "What is this ability? Why have I never seen it before? Tell me now!"
Mike merely gave a quiet snort. His cape suddenly whipped out a thin thread, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished.
"Boom!"
A deafening blast rang out as their fists collided.
Mike instantly twisted his grip around Mr. Sinister's hand, and a kryptonite short spear silently appeared in his palm. He drove it toward Mr. Sinister's chest.
But Mr. Sinister only grinned, completely unfazed.
Clang!
With a sharp chime, the kryptonite spear shattered. The expected scene of it piercing Mr. Sinister's body never came.
What?
Mike's heart jolted.
He was certain Mr. Sinister had Kryptonian powers. Kryptonite should have…
"Heh!"
Mr. Sinister's eyes suddenly flared red.
Mike tilted his head, narrowly dodging the twin beams of heat vision. As he prepared to counterattack, Mr. Sinister thrust out a hand, and a formless shockwave hurled Mike backward.
Noticing the confusion on Mike's face, Mr. Sinister laughed smugly. "During the Battle of New York, your performance drew far too much attention."
That short spear was a deadly weakness against Kryptonians. Naturally, he had not left such a flaw unaddressed.
He raised his hand, admiring it as if it were a piece of art, his eyes brimming with confidence and pride.
"The Kryptonian body is extraordinary. At first, I cloned a Kryptonian body intending to graft other abilities onto it. But as the experiments progressed, I discovered it was impossible.
The Kryptonian genes rejected all others.
So I changed my approach. First, I created a body strong enough, then fused Kryptonian genes into it—suppressing them until they became just one part of me."
With that shift in dominance, the kryptonite spear lost its effectiveness.
Mr. Sinister kept talking, proudly flaunting his creation to his enemies—like a typical long-winded villain.
Mike dug a finger in his ear, then glanced at Clark, who hadn't spoken since they left the base. Seeing him quietly absorbing solar radiation, Mike said, "I won't wait for you."
With that, and with Clark giving him an amused look, Mike lunged at Mr. Sinister.
Bathed in the warmth of the sunlight, Clark exhaled in comfort.
It had been a long time since he had basked under the sun.
After capturing him with Charles' clone, Mr. Sinister had dragged him into the base, using him as nothing more than a quality tester for his clone weapons.
Whenever necessary, he would set up a spatial barrier in advance, remove the psychic suppression on Clark's mind, and force him to fight the clone weapons.
And after each battle, a clone telepath no weaker than Charles would re-suppress Clark's thoughts and lock him back into his stasis pod.
To ensure Clark never escaped, Mr. Sinister had created multiple telepathic clones who took turns suppressing his mind, leaving Clark unable to break free of their psychic chains.
To Mr. Sinister, Clark was nothing but a trophy.
Thinking of those years of captivity, even someone like Clark felt a surge of violent rage.
In the next instant, he flashed forward and joined Mike in surrounding Mr. Sinister.
Boom!
A shockwave mixed with psychic force slammed into Mike and Clark, blasting them backward. With a clench of his hand, Mr. Sinister pulled at them with invisible gravity, dragging both from the air.
"Boom!"
The earth shook violently, two deep craters spiderwebbed with cracks opening where they struck.
Mike and Clark forced themselves upright against the crushing gravity, the ground beneath their feet shattering as they rose.
Just as they prepared to launch skyward, a powerful psychic force hammered into their minds. Both staggered slightly, dazed, before being yanked together by telekinesis and blasted away by Mr. Sinister's heat vision.
Their bodies plowed across the ground, carving twin trenches, piles of dirt heaping like small mountains behind them.
They shook off the dizziness and darted aside—
"Boom!"
The ground slammed together like closing pages, shattering into rubble and clouds of dust.
Clark's mouth twitched. He turned to Mike. "Dad, think of something. He has too many powers."
Shockwaves, gravity, telekinesis, psychic abilities, Kryptonian strength…
Mr. Sinister now wielded a terrifyingly broad arsenal of abilities. Combined with Kryptonian might, he seemed nearly invincible.
But only seemed so.
Though his powers were numerous, few were truly effective against Mike and Clark—and none could outright kill them.
All he was doing was countering their attacks by choosing the most suitable ability in the moment.
In truth, Mike's card collection contained more than enough options to end the battle immediately.
But crushing the enemy too easily would be unsatisfying.
Most importantly, they didn't need cards to finish him.
"Clark!"
Mike barked as he sidestepped the lightning surging from Mr. Sinister's palm. He moved to stand beside Clark. "Remember the coordination drills we practiced back when you were a kid?"
Clark's eyes lit up. He nodded.
Father and son both smiled, then shot toward Mr. Sinister.
Mr. Sinister sneered coldly.
Once again, a storm of abilities erupted toward them.
Mike and Clark weaved rapidly through the barrage, closing in. When Mr. Sinister's shockwave-coated fist swung at Mike, the two exhaled twin streams of freezing breath, freezing him in place for a split second.
And that was the beginning of his downfall.
No longer fighting separately, the father and son perfectly synchronized their strikes, each attack flowing seamlessly into the next.
For the first time, Mr. Sinister felt truly besieged. Blows came at him from every direction, unavoidable, leaving him no room to counter, and even when he tried, their coordination shut him down.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Fists hammered into his body relentlessly, leaving him reeling.
Then, together, Mike and Clark seized him, forcing him down toward the ground.
"Gwen!"
At their call, Mr. Sinister was slammed hard into the earth.
"Boom!"
A massive crater erupted, and from the dust, a figure wreathed in blue flames plunged into the pit.
It was Gwen.
She placed both hands on Mr. Sinister's face, her flaming, hollow eye sockets locking onto his eyes.
Judgment Eyes!
(End of Chapter)