The forests of China trembled.
For two hours straight, a green beast had rampaged across the land—unrelenting, unyielding. Mountains cracked, rocks exploded into shards, and trees—ancient and tall—splintered like fragile twigs beneath his furious charge.
The Hulk was unstoppable.
But then—suddenly—he stopped.
His colossal frame skidded across the torn earth as he came to an abrupt halt. His breathing was heavy, like thunder rolling through a canyon. His nostrils flared.
Something was wrong.
He could feel it.
A strange pressure, something far greater than what he'd sensed in the past two hours. It wasn't the army chasing him. No. This… was different.
This was danger.
Standing before him was no monster or machine.
Just… a man.
A man seated casually atop a lone stone in the middle of the forest path. He rested his cheek on his right palm, elbow propped lazily on his knee. His eyes remained closed, as if he had been waiting patiently for Hulk's arrival for some time.
Despite the chaos behind the green giant, the man remained completely still—untouched by the destruction.
The rumbling earth, the shattered terrain, the howling wind—none of it seemed to disturb him.
Then, hearing Hulk's approach, the man slowly opened his eyes.
Blue.
Clear, piercing blue.
"Big guy," the man said, his tone calm but tinged with weariness. "You've already done your job very well. Can you please stop now… and give control of the body back to Banner?"
Hulk paused.
His massive fists clenched.
His gaze narrowed.
He trying to help Banner. A friend?
But Hulk didn't have friends. Banner had friends.
And if this man was Banner's friend—then Hulk's enemy.
With a deafening roar, Hulk charged forward like a bull charging at a red cape. His right fist reeled back, aiming straight for the man's chest.
Elric stood, brushing invisible dust from his clothes with a sigh.
He had no desire to fight. Not now. Not here.
But illusions had failed. The world lacked chakra, and without it, even his most advanced genjutsu had no effect on creatures like Hulk.
So now, there was no other choice.
He had to end this—quickly—before the Chinese military closed in.
Elric braced himself. Hulk was strong—far stronger than almost anything in this world. But his movements were childish. Wild. Lacking any real form. Like a toddler throwing tantrums with the strength of a god.
And Elric?
Elric had Ishiki's combat experience.
Fighting raw power like this was the easiest kind of battle for him.
He planted his feet firmly into the earth, using chakra to anchor his stance. His left arm extended, his right arm drew back. Every breath was calculated.
Hulk closed in. His eyes gleamed with primal fury.
With a wild roar, the green beast hurled a punch at Elric.
But at the last second, Elric tilted his head ever so slightly to the right. The monstrous fist missed him by mere inches.
Without hesitation, Elric's right hand snapped forward, firmly grabbing Hulk's wrist.
Simultaneously, his left hand grabbed Hulk's elbow.
In the blink of an eye—
Crack.
A scream of pain erupted from Hulk's throat.
He looked down in shock. His right arm bent the wrong way—completely reversed at the elbow.
His fury soared even higher.
But Elric didn't give him a moment to react.
With his left leg now rooted deeper into the earth through chakra, Elric shifted his balance and drove his right leg forward with precise timing.
Another crack.
Hulk's right knee bent in the opposite direction.
Roaring in agony, Hulk raised his arms—but Elric was already in motion.
He leapt upward slightly, twisted mid-air, and delivered a spinning roundhouse kick directly to Hulk's temple.
The giant staggered. Then—collapsed.
A tremor ran through the forest as his enormous body crashed into the ground.
But Elric didn't stop there.
He exhaled slowly.
Then gathered chakra into his right hand.
He stepped forward—and punched Hulk square in the face.
Boom.
The impact sent cracks spiderwebbing across the ground. Hulk twitched.
Elric struck again.
Boom.
And again.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Punch after punch. Blow after blow.
Each strike carried precision, each one honed by combat experience thousands of years fighting. The rhythm was brutal, unrelenting.
A full minute passed.
Twenty punches in total.
And finally—the Hulk lay still.
Unmoving.
Silent.
Elric stood above him, chest rising and falling softly. His eyes gazed down at the unconscious behemoth with something that might have been pity—or simply exhaustion.
He muttered under his breath.
"…Have a quiet life for some time, big guy. After all this effort, I really hope… you won't stand against me in the future."
The wind rustled through the shattered forest.
The battlefield fell quiet once more.
But Elric knew—it was far from over.
.......
Ten days had passed since the incident in the forests of China.
Far from the world's gaze, on the outskirts of Delhi—hidden amidst a neighborhood of crumbling buildings and forgotten factories—a black sedan pulled up in front of an old, weathered office. The paint on the walls was flaking, and rust coated the iron gate. To a passerby, it looked like nothing more than another relic of a forgotten time.
The car door opened with a soft click, and a middle-aged man stepped out. He wore a simple coat, his presence unassuming, but his eyes were sharp. He walked toward the dilapidated door and knocked three times—precise, rhythmic.
The door creaked open.
A large, burly man stood behind it, initially suspicious. But as soon as he saw who was at the entrance, his expression changed instantly. Respect—deep and unquestioning—settled over his features like a mask snapping into place.
"Sir. We've been waiting for you," the man said with a slight bow. "Please, let me guide you."
Without a word, the middle-aged man nodded and followed him inside.
Despite its outer appearance, the interior of the building told a very different story. The ground-level rooms were bare, but as they descended a flight of stairs to the underground floor, a different world revealed itself.
The base was a hive of activity—men and women in crisp suits walked briskly through sleek corridors lined with glowing screens and terminals. Holographic maps, satellite data, encrypted terminals—it was a war room hidden in the shell of a ruin.
They passed through the buzzing command floor and entered a large reinforced door that opened into a spacious conference chamber. Inside, the room was filled with important figures—leaders, defense advisors, strategists, corporate heads—all gathered from across India.
The moment the middle-aged man entered, several heads turned. No introductions were necessary. He walked silently toward the empty seat at the round table and sat down.
"Sorry I'm late," he said casually. "You know how Delhi traffic is."
A laugh echoed from another seat. "What happened to your helicopter?"
"What about it?" The man looked genuinely confused. "You know it's not allowed to fly over this zone anymore. New air restrictions."
"Young people…" the first man muttered, shaking his head with a smirk.
Before their banter could continue, a calm yet commanding female voice cut through the room.
"Now that everyone's present, let's begin the meeting."
The room fell silent.
Mira, the woman who had spoken, stood near the digital board. Her face was composed, but the bags under her eyes betrayed her fatigue. She began to speak in a clinical tone, "After interrogating the assassin…"
Her voice trailed off into a debriefing filled with tense details, coded names, strategic updates, and sensitive intelligence. The room listened intently.
Two hours passed.
When the meeting finally ended, Mira left the room, her shoulders heavy with exhaustion. The buzzing corridors no longer fazed her. She bypassed her staff's greetings, made her way to her car, and leaned back into the seat with a long sigh as the door closed behind her.
The car pulled out into the night.
From her coat, she retrieved a small, sleek device—clearly far more advanced than anything the era should possess. She pressed a switch on the side, and the device glowed faintly before she clipped it behind her ear.
A few seconds passed in silence.
Then a male voice answered, smooth and clear.
"Mira."
"Mr. Elric," she said, her tone reverting to professional calm. "Everything has been executed as you instructed. We're preparing to open negotiations with China. The plan to presser the US government while gathering foreign influence is in motion."
"Good job, Mira," Elric replied simply.
"No need to mention it, boss," she said with a faint smile. Then, her tone shifted. There was something unusual in her voice now—something softer, more hesitant. "But… when will I see you again?"
For a heartbeat, silence.
"Soon."
The line went dead.
She sat there a moment longer, eyes fixed on the city lights outside the window, then slowly removed the earpiece—disappointment barely hidden in her face.
Far away, inside one of Elric's hidden command centers, his AI assistant's voice echoed with playful sarcasm.
"Boss… it seems your charm is not as useless a power as you claimed."
Elric exhaled with a dry chuckle. "It seems so."
But there was no room for pride or distractions. Not yet.
This entire scheme—the orchestrated chaos, the fractured diplomacy between superpowers, the silent manipulation of international policy—was only a piece of a far greater puzzle.
One of his true objectives had not yet met: the United States and Russia should be to entangled in turmoil to pay attention to small, strategic shadows moving elsewhere.
His people—those scattered across nations—were steadily rising. Infiltrating power. Seizing this opportunity.
But even that… wasn't the main goal.
The true purpose of this intricate dance was to halt the formation of the Avengers.
A team that—if allowed to exist—could destroy everything he hoped to build.
Banner was the first step. After this incident, he was unlikely to trust the U.S. government again—let alone fight for them.
Now… it was Tony Stark's turn.
Thor… would be harder. The key was Asgard. He needed a sliver of luck. He could only hope Odin wouldn't send his son to a country who will start a war, just to teach him why war should be avoided.
And Black Widow… Hawkeye… they didn't matter.
If he lost to them, there no need to say anymore.
The age of heroes could still be prevented.
But only if he moved fast enough.
[Guys should I move on to Naruto or one piece or stay on marvel for some time more.]