Steve Rogers—the walking recruitment poster, the spiritual totem of all America—jumped straight off the cliff without the slightest hesitation.
His figure cut through the wind and snow like a blue shell fired from a cannon, carrying an unflinching resolve as he charged headlong toward the Hydra-branded Gundam that looked like a mobile fortress at the foot of the mountain.
Levi stood at the edge of the cliff, his heart churning like a stormy sea.
A madman.
A one-hundred-percent, certified lunatic!
Any carbon-based lifeform with a functioning brain, when faced with something that completely outclassed them in size, firepower, and defense, would choose one thing and one thing only—run. Run as far and as fast as possible.
But not Steve.
Not only did he refuse to retreat, he went full face-check the bush, volunteering to be the tank on the front line.
He was treating his own life as the final all-in chip, slamming it onto the table without hesitation—betting that the two of them watching from above could find that one-in-a-million reversal before he got pancaked into meat paste.
This Marvel world is ridiculous, Levi thought numbly. Real Americans don't have willpower like this.
"Damn it…" Beside him, Logan let out a low growl. The sound carried awe, irritation, and a beastly bloodlust that had been thoroughly ignited. His usually half-lidded, perpetually mocking eyes were now locked on Steve's back, his clenched fists cracking loudly. "That son of a bitch, the American sweetheart… always pulls shit that sends my blood pressure through the roof."
Levi shot him a glance, lips curling into a feral grin. Oh please—this wasn't blood pressure. This was pure adrenaline. The old wolf was fired up.
"Enough chatter!" Levi sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself into focus. His serum-enhanced brain overclocked instantly, calculating distance, wind speed, trajectories, and the lead time of every joint on that iron monstrosity. "The Captain just put his life down as our ante. If we screw this up, the three of us are getting packed up right here in the snow!"
As he spoke, Steve hit the ground.
He moved like a blue flea on crack, darting wildly around the giant's feet.
Every step the monster took was like a localized earthquake, snow and rubble surging high enough to bury a tank alive.
Yet Steve slipped through with millimeter-perfect dodges, his shield ringing clang clang clang as it deflected sweeping mechanical tendrils—sounds so grating they made teeth ache.
Watching it, Levi could only think: This is bullshit. Pure protagonist aura.
And it worked.
Steve had become the ultimate taunt beacon, pulling all aggro to the front.
The iron behemoth clearly wasn't running a high-end AI. Its two crimson electronic eyes were locked onto Steve, completely oblivious to the fact that its back—utterly unguarded—was now fully exposed to the two lurking bastards up on the cliff.
Now!
This window would open only once.
"Logan!" Levi roared.
"Do it!" The old wolf replied with a single word—short, sharp, and full of pre-feast excitement.
Levi grabbed Logan by the back of the collar. The feel was like grabbing half a steel door—this old man's muscle density was tougher than Levi's own skin.
"Hold tight, old man!" Levi still found time to crack a joke before launch. "If my hand slips and you fall halfway down, I'm not coming to collect your body!"
"Shut up, kid! You're the heaviest accessory I've ever worn!" Logan cursed back, but his body was already coiled like a bow, knees bent, ready to be fired as ammunition.
Levi stomped down hard.
The terrifying explosive power granted by the super-soldier serum was squeezed dry in that instant. The rock beneath his feet shattered as he shot upward like a cannonball—hauling along a hundred-plus-kilo, triple-clawed "human attachment."
"Whooo—!"
The wind screamed past Levi's ears. The weightless drop made his stomach churn. He locked his gaze on the massive moving target below, constantly adjusting their airborne arc based on the monster's turning lead.
"There!" Levi bellowed midair, pointing at the monster's back—an area hidden beneath thick armor.
That was it—the one place that sounded like an energy core under his super hearing.
Logan twisted his head midair, eyes following Levi's finger, sharpening instantly to a razor's edge.
Shk!
Three bone claws snapped out, gleaming with a cold, vicious sheen.
Closer.
Even closer.
Levi could see the thick weld seams and brutal rivets on the armor now. He could smell it—the nauseating mix of machine oil, scorched metal, and ozone.
Below them, Steve seemed to understand instantly. He slammed his shield forward, smashing it into one of the monster's legs with all his strength.
The damage was negligible.
The insult was catastrophic.
The giant's massive body stalled for a split second.
That instant—
"Get the hell in there!"
Levi let out a roar that barely sounded human. He twisted his waist, muscles bulging, and poured every ounce of strength he'd accumulated since transmigrating into this world into a single motion—
Driving Logan down like a living armor-piercing spike, smashing him into the absurdly thick plating!
CLANG—!
A shriek of metal-on-metal exploded, sharp enough to pierce eardrums. Logan's bone claws slammed into the armor, sparks bursting brighter than fireworks. Claws that could shred vault steel left only three blinding white scars.
"Fuck!" Logan cursed through the screech, furious.
Levi's heart sank. Miscalculation? Was this turtle shell even tougher than expected?
No.
Not yet.
Levi's body followed immediately, inertia carrying him straight into Logan's back. His feet landed squarely on Logan's lower back, turning the old wolf into a perfect fulcrum—a living transmission rod.
"I told you—" Levi's eyes were bloodshot from the strain, each word forced out through clenched teeth, "—get—in—there!"
He unleashed everything.
The full output of the super-soldier serum.
Every ounce of resentment from a former 996 wage slave.
Every curse at burnout, at grind culture, at this goddamn world.
His fear of death.
His obsession with surviving.
All of it condensed into his right foot.
And then—
He kicked.
Dead center on Logan's fist, which was already half-buried in the armor.
CRACK!
This time it wasn't grinding metal—it was the crisp shatter of hardened steel breaking apart.
Under the combined force of two super-soldier–level monsters, the supposedly invincible armor finally gave way.
Logan's entire right arm—claws and all—was driven straight into the monster's body.
"ROOOO—!"
A scream erupted that no living thing should be able to make, filled with electrical distortion and system-failure alarms. The shockwave hurled Levi and Logan off the monster's back like rag dolls.
They tumbled through the air and slammed into the snow dozens of meters away, carving out two steaming craters.
Levi felt like every bone in his body had come loose. His throat filled with coppery sweetness as he spat out a mouthful of blood—but his eyes never left the monster.
It had gone berserk.
The wounded behemoth thrashed wildly, mechanical tendrils smashing everything in reach to rubble. The massive turbine on its chest flickered out of control, dark-red energy beams firing randomly, gouging deep trenches into the ice and melting rock into rivers of magma.
"Run!" Steve's shout rang out. He'd already sprinted over, yanking Levi out of the snow pit.
Nearby, Logan staggered upright. The arm Levi had used as a "nail" hung limp, clearly broken—but even now, his healing factor was already at work, bones writhing and realigning at a visible pace.
The three of them bolted without looking back.
Behind them, the world ended.
A chain of dull explosions thundered from inside the monster. Black smoke and electrical sparks poured from every seam.
With a final, earth-shaking blast, its mountain-like body collapsed, kicking up towering waves of snow.
At last—
Silence.
Levi dropped onto the snow, breathing like a busted bellows, lungs threatening to burst.
Steve knelt on one knee, leaning on his shield, chest heaving violently. Logan lay flat on his back in a starfish pose, a crushed cigar clamped between his lips, staring at the gray sky without a word.
They'd won.
Against impossible odds, the three of them—three absolute cheaters—had torn down an unstoppable monster with a plan that got crazier by the second and execution that bordered on suicide.
So this was what American-style superhero nonsense felt like.
…Honestly?
It felt pretty damn good.
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