Round 2

Hulk had to crouch to fit in the shrinking arena. He had tried standing up earlier, and the now bare top of his head was the best evidence of that attempt. If it weren't for his incredible regenerative abilities, his skull, exposed by the barrier's corrosion, would have resulted in him bleeding out on the spot.

"There is one minute left before the second round begins. Participants, please take your places."

"And by the way, if the alien team loses this round as well, your civilization will be destroyed as promised!"

As Zane said this, he glanced coldly at the mass of terrified aliens, sending a shiver down their spines.

Hulk, instead of rejoining the other Earth heroes, squatted down and with a mighty leap, left shallow footprints on the indestructible arena before disappearing into the distance. Hulk had left in a hurry, fearing he might kill everyone in his growing madness.

Tony Stark, having replaced his arc reactor and armor, remained seated against the ruins, his eyes closed. Perhaps he couldn't bear to see who would step up next.

Tony had no intention of fighting in this round. According to the plan, he and Thor were to fight last. If he went up now, Loki would likely send most of the Chitauri soldiers or even fight himself, which would spell doom for both him and the still-recovering Thor. Therefore, the chosen fighters for this round were not meant to win but to deplete the enemy's forces.

If they won, the game would be over. But Tony's rational mind told him that this battle would be lost, so he couldn't bear to open his eyes and witness it.

Daredevil, the Punisher, and some other street-level heroes understood Tony's plan. Tony had explained it clearly, without hiding anything. This was the strategy that offered Earth the greatest chance of victory. Despite their pain and guilt, they couldn't afford to take any risks, no matter how small.

Knowing they were likely facing death, the heroes stood up resolutely and walked towards the arena, a symbol of death for them. As they approached, the usually stoic and stern Punisher showed an unprecedentedly relaxed smile. For a moment, he seemed to see his wife and daughter calling to him from heaven. But then, the hardened man shook his head with a bitter smile.

"A scum like me can't possibly go to heaven. But for you, I'd fight my way up from hell," the Punisher murmured.

Though he spoke softly, Daredevil, with his acute hearing, heard him clearly. He said nothing, just patted the Punisher on the shoulder. The Punisher returned his gaze with a carefree smile and pulled out a half-blood-soaked pack of cheap cigarettes from his pocket, offering them to his comrades. Even those who didn't smoke took the wrinkled cigarettes with a smile.

As small flames ignited one by one, the sound of coughing mingled with the rising wisps of smoke, slowly dissipating in the air filled with the scent of gunpowder. It was as if their lives were fading away like the smoke itself.

The curses from the viewers in front of the screens suddenly dropped to the lowest point. Some emotional women, watching their tragic figures, began to weep softly.

Seeing the heroes Earth had sent out, the Chitauri, after a brief discussion, decided to play it safe by sending a third of their forces, around 5,000 soldiers. It seemed like an overreaction, but realistically, a few hundred would have been enough to handle these less-than-super superheroes. However, their calculations showed that the arena could accommodate their entire force, and deploying 10,000 would maximize their combat effectiveness. So, they decided to send in the remaining soldiers.

As the overwhelming Chitauri army surged towards the arena, the Punisher and his allies calmly smoked their rusty-flavored cigarettes, their expressions unshaken.

Beneath the arena, tears silently rolled down Tony Stark's face, hidden within his iron armor.

"The participants have entered. The match officially begins!"

Zane, holding the microphone, watched the vastly unequal confrontation with great interest. As he finished speaking, the Punisher, with a half-burned cigarette in his mouth, was the first to raise his machine gun and open fire on the enemy.

'Rat-tat-tat…'

The rhythmic gunfire sounded the horn of battle. All the melee-focused superheroes charged forward with unwavering determination towards the Chitauri army, now in formation.

However, in a situation where the difference in strength and numbers is so vast, morale means little. As soon as the superheroes took their first steps, the barrels of 5,000 energy guns lit up. Dense energy beams rained down with a destructive force on the mere dozen Earth heroes.

In an instant, several superheroes who lacked quick reflexes were riddled with holes, collapsing with looks of resentment in their eyes. Each fallen hero's body hit the ground with a heavy thud.

As superhero after superhero fell, the viewers' hearts clenched, overwhelmed with an indescribable sadness and despair.

After just one volley, only two superheroes remained standing: Daredevil, who narrowly dodged the energy beams with his superhuman hearing and agility, and the Punisher, who rolled on the ground to avoid most of the beams. However, neither was in good shape.

The Punisher had lost an arm to the energy beams, saved only by the beams' intense heat, which cauterized the wound and prevented him from bleeding out immediately. Daredevil, although he avoided most of the beams, could not protect all his vital organs and was left with four or five deep, bone-revealing burn wounds.

Under normal circumstances, surviving such injuries would be considered a miracle.

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