"Do your worst," Alan declared, his voice muffled by the full-face helmet of his new alloy armor. He lay spread-eagled on the ground, waiting to be mercilessly beaten.
The armor, forged from a perfect combination of Vibranium and the magical Star Iron, was a masterpiece of both technology and alchemy. It was an all-encompassing suit, leaving no part of him exposed, and through Alan's unique enchanting skills, it was no less than a divine artifact.
"Nanaue, time for the Ruthless Beatdown!"
With a roar, Nanaue grabbed Alan by the ankle and began to slam him into the ground like a ragdoll.
Bang, bang, bang…
Deep pits were gouged into the earth with every impact. The scene was eerily similar to the Hulk's brutalization of Loki.
"Nanaue, time for the Trample of Justice!" After the thrashing, Nanaue leaped high into the air and stomped down on Alan's chest with both feet.
"Again."
"Keep going."
"And again."
"Now, trample like you've never trampled before!"
On the side, Namor watched the entire process, utterly stunned. From beginning to end, Alan never fought back. Nanaue beat him half to death, venting a level of violence that seemed born of a deep, personal hatred. He truly couldn't understand the purpose of creating a suit of armor just to be beaten in it. Was the plan to simply tire out the enemy and then subdue them in one fell swoop?
"Stop!"
Alan stood up and dusted himself off, a strange energy now humming around him. He raised his hand and slapped it on the ground. A layer of dust was immediately raised, and with his palm as the center, a network of irregular cracks radiated out in all directions.
"Behold! The Beaten Man is born!"
The magic metal provided by Atlantis had an affinity for the water element, granting him improved control and movement underwater. The Vibranium absorbed kinetic energy, not only nullifying damage but also storing it for later use. Before being beaten, it was just a suit of armor that provided defense. The more it was beaten, the stronger the power it could unleash.
A month of this, and Alan was very satisfied with the results. But no one should expect a high level of technological sophistication; it was, at its core, just a set of enchanted armor. Making a mecha similar to Iron Man's was out of the question. Not only were the conditions not right, but the energy source was a fatal issue. It was no exaggeration to say that the armor's energy absorption limit was completely bottomless; he could probably drain all the energy in Namor's territory. Carrying a battery pack was far less practical than just letting Nanaue punch him a few times.
"It's about time." Alan glanced at the nonexistent watch on his wrist, walked up to Namor, and said seriously, "I'm going back to land to save the world."
"Do you need me to give you a ride?"
"No need." After getting what he wanted, there was no need for Alan to stay here any longer. He was ready to return to the surface and reunite with Captain America and the others.
Parting is always sad, but as Namor watched the submersible leave, he felt a profound sense of relief.
On Paradise Island, Diana put on her equipment. Taking advantage of the changing of the guard, she quietly approached the seaside and jumped into the sea. Ares, the God of War, was causing trouble in the world. When Queen Hippolyta heard about it, she had strictly forbidden Diana from intervening. Matters between the gods were for the gods to resolve. In truth, it was a mother's worry for her child. She was afraid that something might happen to Diana.
Since returning to Paradise Island, Diana seemed to have become a different person. She was often alone, exploring the practical applications of her set of artifacts. In her mind, the scene of her battle with Ares was on a constant loop. She thought about avenging her shame all the time.
On the palace balcony, Hippolyta looked toward the coast, her eyes full of worry.
"Sister, you are worried about Diana. Why did you let her go?" the queen's sister, Antiope, asked in confusion.
"Whatever Diana wants to do, she will find a way to do it. No difficulty can stop her." As a mother, Hippolyta knew her own child very well. Even if she were to narrowly escape death, she would never look back.
Antiope's lips parted slightly. She wanted to say that Hippolyta herself had the same stubborn temper.
Under the night sky, the sea sparkled. Alan emerged from the water and muttered, "Is this potion a fake?"
Before leaving, Alan had asked the Atlanteans for a potion that would attract the Trench Tribe. This way, he wouldn't have to waste time looking for them. He had diluted the potion into the seawater, and after waiting for a long time with no results, he couldn't help but doubt its authenticity.
Boom!
He shot a flare into the sky. Suddenly, the darkness was painted with a layer of crimson. Alan was shocked to find that he was completely surrounded by the hideous and ugly Trench Tribe, all looking at him with bloodthirsty eyes.
"Hey, are you guys out for a late-night snack?" Alan waved enthusiastically.
The next second, the Trench swarmed in like piranhas, and in an instant, Alan was submerged beneath the waves. They were numerous, thrashing crazily on the surface of the sea as if the water itself were boiling.
Not long after, corpses of the Trench began to float to the surface, and more of their kind began to bite and eat the bodies of their own. One after another, the bodies surfaced. In the blink of an eye, the entire sea was covered.
"I sentence you all to death by a thousand paper cuts!" Alan came up for air, looked at the corpses of the Trench, and asked, "I'm just asking you, are you afraid?"
Killing them one by one, he would reach the max level eventually. Thor had just patted his ass and left, so Alan had to adopt a backup plan: poison the Trench to gain experience. For an Alchemist, it made sense to refine poison. When the potion entered the body and reacted chemically with organic matter, it could immediately turn into a highly toxic substance. Of course, Alan had double insurance. When diluted in seawater, it would decompose into harmless substances in more than an hour, or the enzymes produced by the decaying corpses would neutralize its medicinal properties.
[TRENCH TRIBE KILLED. EXPERIENCE +150]
[ENOUGH EXPERIENCE. ALCHEMIST LEVEL: LV. 60]
[SKILL UNLOCKED: ALCHEMY EMPEROR]
[ALCHEMY EMPEROR: ALCHEMIST SKILL LEVEL +1, ALCHEMY CREATION ATTRIBUTE EFFECT INCREASED BY 20%.]
…
[TRENCH TRIBE KILLED. EXPERIENCE +150]
[ENOUGH EXPERIENCE. ALCHEMIST LEVEL: LV. 120]
[TIP: REQUIREMENTS COMPLETE. YOU CAN NOW RETURN TO THE ORIGINAL TIMELINE AT ANY TIME.]
The experience prompts finally stopped, and Alan felt much more secure. "Now I can wander around as I please. If I can't beat you, I'll run. If you've got the guts, come and beat me across time and space." Alan adopted a mean, sinister tone. "I will definitely get that premium battle pass."
"Master, look! Nanaue has found someone!" Nanaue was dragging a figure on his back. Because the night was so dark, it was impossible to tell whether it was a man or a woman.
"Is it a midnight snack?" Alan swam forward curiously. His eyes widened in surprise. "Ah, it's Her Royal Highness!"
Yes, it was Diana who had been innocently shot. She had been swimming toward land, passing through the area where Alan was gaining experience, and had accidentally taken a sip of seawater. She was poisoned on the spot. Nanaue and Alan had drunk the antidote in advance and were, naturally, fine.
"Oops, I didn't prepare any extra antidote." When he had come, he had never considered the possibility of accidentally injuring friendly troops in the vast ocean, so to save trouble, Alan had only refined two antidotes. After careful consideration, he made a decision.
"Forget it. I'll suffer a little loss."
Alan opened Diana's mouth with one hand, took a sudden, deep breath, and…
Ptooey…
***
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My Patreon For +20 Extra Chapters On All
My Fanfics!!] [www. [email protected]/meowthtl]
[+300 Power Stones = +1 Bonus Chapter]
[+500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[Thank You For Your Support!]