In the dimensional pocket of Hell's Kitchen, the battle erupted with stunning ferocity. Each clash between the high-level reincarnators and the defenders of Hell's Kitchen came with deafening booms and dazzling flares of energy, threatening to tear the very fabric of space apart.
Though only a dozen combatants were involved, the sheer destructive power unleashed far exceeded any previous skirmishes. The streets were awash in flames, debris shot through the air like shrapnel, and jagged space fractures sliced across the battlefield. It looked less like a mission and more like the end of the world.
Caught in this chaos, low-level reincarnators and local mutants appeared pitifully small and helpless. They not only had to contend with external threats but also the devastating shockwaves from the higher-tier battles.
The mutants of Hell's Kitchen, at least, had a guardian—Alex Ray. He maintained constant vigilance, ready to teleport any of them away the moment their lives were in jeopardy.
But the low-level reincarnators? They weren't so lucky. Without Alex's protection, they had to fend for themselves.
And the high-level reincarnators? Mercy was a foreign concept to them.
The sheer fallout of their combat was like an invisible storm of blades, effortlessly bypassing the defenses of weaker participants and slicing them down where they stood.
Some unlucky reincarnators never even got the chance to show their worth—consumed entirely by a stray energy wave, erased from existence without so much as a scream.
Yet this wasn't new to the veterans of Reincarnation Space. As bitter and frustrated as they felt, they knew the truth—this carnage was the result of a sudden escalation, one they hadn't prepared for. No one had sounded the alarm. No warnings were given.
So they had no choice but to grit their teeth, curse the cold cruelty of the stronger reincarnators, and scramble to survive—ducking and dodging the lethal aftershocks like a deadly game of cat and mouse.
"Hide! Fast! This isn't a training sim—this is a damn slaughterhouse!" one low-tier reincarnator shouted, panic clawing at his throat.
"Those arrogant bastards think they can do whatever they want just because they're stronger? Wait till I level up. I'll drag every one of them down!" another snarled, hatred gleaming in his eyes.
"Hahaha! Now this is what I'm talking about!" a third laughed maniacally. "This is a real mission! Not that kiddie crap we've been doing!"
"Yeah, screw hiding! Let's dive in and earn some respect!" someone else roared.
A few of the braver—or more foolish—reincarnators began charging into the fray, fueled by adrenaline and blind hope.
But amid the chaos, Liam Young stood apart.
Unlike the others, he had trusted his instincts and left Hell's Kitchen at the first sign of impending disaster. Thanks to his superior strength and honed senses, he avoided the battlefield entirely—and with it, the deadly collateral damage.
Still, his expression was far from calm.
"Damn it... those top-tier reincarnators are already out and moving," Liam muttered, scanning the quiet streets. "I need to act fast."
He knew that this version of Earth—Marvel's Earth—was filled with hidden treasures and game-changing opportunities. Most high-level reincarnators wouldn't waste time on them. But for someone like Liam, now freshly upgraded to a fourth-tier fighter, these were goldmines.
He wasn't here to play hero. He was here to win.
And so, Liam changed his strategy.
He decided his first target would be Stark Industries, home of the legendary Tony Stark. He'd already crafted a plan in his mind—take Pepper Potts hostage and use her to force Tony into handing over his Iron Man armor and the AI, J.A.R.V.I.S.
Of course, he was mindful of the Main God Space rules: superheroes couldn't be killed if they were outside Hell's Kitchen. But coercion, threats, and psychological warfare? Not technically forbidden. Liam was ready to walk that fine line.
But as he exited the boundary of Hell's Kitchen and stepped into the larger cityscape, he froze.
The streets were dead silent.
No traffic. No sirens. No people. No reaction whatsoever to the chaos erupting nearby.
The entire city looked abandoned—eerily so. Buildings stood like hollow monuments. Stores were shut. There wasn't a soul in sight.
"What the hell...?"
A wave of unease gripped Liam's heart. This didn't feel like New York. It felt like a stage set—built for show but devoid of life.
The buildings lacked any warmth, as if drained of their essence. Even the furniture inside appeared incomplete or artificial, like props in an unfinished simulation.
And that wasn't all.
He realized something even more terrifying: someone might've beaten him to Stark already. His precious lead was slipping through his fingers.
That realization hit harder than any energy blast.
This was supposed to be a mission where he monopolized the best loot. But now it felt like a trap—like the Main God Space had lured them into a meat grinder.
Still, Liam clenched his fists and forced the doubt from his mind.
"No one can manipulate the Main God Space," he whispered, reassuring himself. "This place runs on logic, on balance. No one has the power to tamper with it…"
Yet even as he said it, the words felt hollow.
He snapped out of it, muttering, "Enough. Get moving."
He made his way toward Stark Tower, the tallest skyscraper in the Big Apple. If Tony and Pepper were anywhere, they'd be there.
But as he reached the front entrance, his face twisted in frustration.
The lobby was empty.
The silence inside was suffocating.
And to make matters worse—the elevators were offline.
"Son of a—" Liam cursed under his breath, looking up. The top floor had to be at least a hundred stories above.
This was going to suck.
But points meant power. And power meant survival. He couldn't give up now.
Gritting his teeth, Liam activated one of his lesser-used skills—an explosive short-term boost in strength and speed.
With a deep breath, he launched himself upward, beginning the grueling climb up the side of Stark Tower.
After several agonizing minutes, he reached the top floor—sweat dripping, muscles burning.
Then he heard voices.
His eyes lit up. Someone was up there. Maybe it really was Tony and Pepper. This might actually work.
He crept up carefully, peeking over the ledge—and then his entire body froze.
Two figures stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, casually chatting as they looked out over the city. One of them was Tony Stark, unmistakable even from behind.
But the other… Liam's blood ran cold.
It was Evolto—also known as E-General, the reincarnator's nickname for Kamen Rider Evolto. A notorious high-tier reincarnator. Ruthless. Insane. Powerful.
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
2nd Bonus Chapter - 300 Power Stones
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