"Right now, we can't find any testing equipment that can withstand the full force of your punch!"
Tony's voice came through the radio, calm but serious. "We'll need to switch methods and use multi-dimensional data to estimate an approximate value."
Tony always had a way of finding solutions, no matter how unconventional.
Leon raised an eyebrow. "So, what do you want me to do?"
"Exerting force mid-air shouldn't affect your state, right?"
"It doesn't. I have a bio-field."
Tony adjusted the instruments in front of him. "Then, fly up and press down on the tester, like Superman pushing an asteroid. It won't give us your punching power directly, but we'll get a good idea of your lifting strength."
"Later, we'll measure your punching speed, and with that, Jarvis can calculate the total force behind a full-power punch."
"Okay!" Leon responded. He shot up into the sky, flipped in the air, and positioned himself above a massive iron pier, both hands pressing down on it.
"I'm about to start exerting force!"
"Remember, use your maximum strength!" Tony reminded him.
"Of course!" Leon's eyes narrowed with focus. His muscles bulged as he began to push down with all his strength.
On Tony's end, the equipment reacted instantly. The numbers on the monitor shot into nine digits, sending a jolt through him.
And the data kept rising—until Leon let out a loud roar from above. Only then did the numbers stop climbing, settling into a fluctuating range.
"Okay!" Tony's voice trembled as he read the final values.
Leon exhaled deeply, emptying the air from his lungs. "What's the final thrust?"
Tony swallowed hard. "Three hundred seventy million kilograms—370,000 tons. Jarvis estimates your single-arm strength is between 140,000 to 190,000 tons."
Leon's eyes widened in surprise. "That high?"
This number was impressive—unbelievably so.
The Superman from DC movies, in his earliest appearance, was estimated to have a strength of 800,000 tons. That Superman had been basking in the sun for over 20 years. Leon had been absorbing solar energy for just over six months.
Even so, this level of power would already make him invincible on Earth.
But…
"It's still not enough," Leon muttered, clenching his fist. "Earth is just a small pond. Outside this pond, there are giants. I've still got a long way to go—and I need to keep getting stronger."
Tony rolled his eyes so hard he nearly saw his own brain.
The way Leon casually complained about being too powerful was enough to drive a person mad. Tony didn't even bother replying and simply moved on, starting the next phase of the tests.
"Next up: punching speed. Swing your fist as fast as you can—whatever speed you think your body and bio-field can handle."
Leon nodded. "I usually use the bio-field to shield the environment during attacks. I'll use the fastest punching speed that won't break the field when I'm at full strength."
He stood firmly on the iron pier, took a standard fighter's stance—waist contracted, hips twisted—and punched.
A clean, standard straight punch.
Though the punch didn't generate the massive force of tens of thousands of tons, the sheer speed was staggering.
"Ding!"
Tony, observing from a distance, could barely see Leon move. Yet, a value instantly popped up on his screen—no build-up, no warning.
"10,769 meters per second… that's close to Mach 32!?"
Tony's eyes locked onto the number in disbelief. "Is that the fastest you can go with full force?"
Leon noticed his tone and assumed Tony thought the number was too low. "It's a bit slow, actually."
"I can go faster, but beyond this speed, the bio-field starts to break. It could cause major collateral damage—like what happened in the garage this morning."
Tony clicked his tongue in amazement. "You can actually go faster? You're basically a god on Earth!"
Leon shook his head. "A god? That's hardly impressive. This still isn't enough. Once my bio-field strengthens further, I'll be able to punch even faster."
"Not enough yet?" Tony was stunned. "Do you even know how terrifying it is to swing a punch of tens of thousands of tons at that speed?"
Leon guessed casually, "Probably... like a small meteorite falling to Earth?"
Tony ran his hands down his face. "Close enough. Jarvis, break it down."
"Yes, sir."
"Young Master Leon," Jarvis's calm voice rang through, "based on our calculations, accelerating to Mach 31 in an instant and punching at full strength with one arm would release over 1.5 trillion Newtons of impact force in one second. This is equivalent to 240 simultaneous Hiroshima-level atomic explosions."
Tony slammed his hand on the table. "That's 3.6 million tons of TNT! And that's not even counting the increased pressure from your small fist area!"
Jarvis continued, "Correct. Young Master Leon, you are effectively a walking high-yield hydrogen bomb—with unlimited firepower."
Tony exhaled sharply. He was genuinely shaken.
Who would've thought that the same brat who used to argue with him over breakfast was now carrying such world-ending power?
"You still think your strength isn't enough? Why are you so desperate to keep getting stronger? Was it because I couldn't protect you well enough when you were a kid?"
Leon smiled. "No, Tony. You've always been great to me—even letting me tag along when you're out picking up girls. But my reasons go deeper."
He paused, thinking.
Maybe Tony was right.
Maybe this obsession with power came from the trauma of childhood—constantly fearing that the Time Administration would take him away.
Having experienced such helpless fear, Leon knew the value of having overwhelming power at his fingertips.
Tony quipped, "Is it because I was always chasing women and you were jealous, so now you want to beat me with superpowers?"
Leon grinned. "Then I definitely should beat you."
He pressed the communicator in his ear. "Alright, let's move on. I've got more tests that'll blow your mind."
For the next hour, Leon underwent a series of ability tests—heat ray, freezing breath, X-ray vision, flight...
Tony's reactions evolved from initial shock to borderline insanity.
From "God..." to "What the hell!?" to "You absolutely deserve to die!"
And honestly, no one could blame him—Leon was the king of understatement.
A heat ray with an adjustable 6,000-degree Celsius output? Leon merely called it "usable."
Freezing breath that could turn several kilometers into ice instantly? "Still not enough."
X-ray vision that could penetrate almost anything? "It can't see through lead, so it's flawed."
Even super hearing was dismissed as "too noisy" and "not that useful."
By the time the tests ended, Tony was completely drained. His soul had left his body somewhere around the heat ray demonstration.
He slumped in his chair, one hand lazily pushing the mouse, the other propping up his head.
"So... what's the next ability to test?"