Electric Man, Dare You Dismount and Fight Me

"All units, quickly get into combat positions! Prepare!"

From the helicopter above, General Ross barked orders into his radio, his face full of confidence as he gazed below.

This time, he was fully prepared, bringing advanced weaponry. Even if the enemy below was as strong as three Abominations, he was confident he could obliterate them.

Whether it was tank shells or the power of vehicle-mounted grenade launchers, none of it could compare to handheld grenade launchers. And let's not forget—the multi-barrel rocket system he had brought along.

Each rocket cost millions of dollars, the pungent smell of money exchanged for unparalleled destruction and dominance.

In General Ross's eyes, using such weapons against a super-criminal felt like using a sledgehammer to kill a mosquito—overkill.

But to restore the military's honor, so be it—even if it was wasteful.

"Target acquired. Tanks, fire a volley! Open fire!"

General Ross shouted with vigor, his mind flashing back to battles in places like Yin and A—where a single command would unleash a barrage of artillery, reducing enemies and structures alike to ash.

However, three seconds passed, then ten.

The battlefield below remained eerily silent. Not only had the tanks failed to fire, but even the communication channels were dead quiet.

"What's going on? Ground units, respond! Answer me, now!"

Static crackle!

Still, no one responded. Only the sound of interference crackling through the channel.

"All ground units, anyone who hears this, respond!"

Just as General Ross was about to lose his composure, a strange voice came through the radio.

"What were you planning for them to do just now? Attack me?"

The unfamiliar voice left General Ross momentarily stunned, but he quickly erupted in anger. "Who are you? What have you done to my soldiers?"

"What did I do? Maybe you should see for yourself!" the voice replied with a hint of mockery.

General Ross rushed to the helicopter window and looked down. What he saw stunned him—all the tank barrels were tilted upward, pointing at the sky.

Tanks were designed with limited elevation angles, making it impossible for them to target something directly overhead.

But that didn't matter. If the angle wasn't enough, you could create one. All it took was making the tanks stand upright—then any angle could be reached.

What General Ross saw were tanks standing upright, stubbornly pointing their barrels at the sky. From afar, they resembled a troupe of determined black swans performing ballet.

And all the barrels were aimed directly at the helicopter where General Ross was.

"Quick, quick, quick! Get us out of here! Avoid the tank fire!"

General Ross shouted, and the helicopter immediately began evasive maneuvers. But it was too late. The tanks below fired a synchronized volley, and the helicopter's tail was struck, sending it spiraling downwards, trailing smoke as it plummeted toward the ground.

In the end, General Ross failed to prove himself. Instead, he crash-landed, inadvertently delivering an arsenal of modern heavy weaponry straight to Max Dillon.

The helicopter crash happened just two kilometers from where Phil Coulson had recently retreated.

Watching the smoking helicopter crash and the tanks on the ground standing upright under electromagnetic control, Phil Coulson once again pulled out his phone and called Nick Fury.

After briefly reporting the situation on the ground, Coulson added, "Director, can't the Red Shield division's approval be expedited?"

There was a long silence on the other end. After a while, Nick Fury spoke in a low voice, "Do you think Red Shield and Martial Saint can handle this problem?"

Phil Coulson hesitated. "I'm not sure, but it's worth a try."

"What about Iron Man, Stark…" Nick Fury began gravely.

Coulson quickly interrupted, "I strongly advise against involving Iron Man. This enemy has powerful electromagnetic control. He easily commandeered all those tanks and grenade launchers. If Stark shows up, his suit could be taken over and used against us."

Given the enemy's demonstrated electromagnetic control, that outcome was a very real possibility.

Nick Fury sighed on the other end. "I'll speak with Pierce. We can't rely on nukes to solve every problem."

Pierce, of course, was Alexander Pierce, Nick Fury's superior, Minister of the World Security Council, and direct overseer of S.H.I.E.L.D.

He was also the most vocal opponent of establishing the Red Shield division.

As a high-ranking Hydra operative, Pierce had spent years infiltrating and corrupting S.H.I.E.L.D. Now that his plans were nearing fruition, there was no way he'd let Red Shield swoop in and steal his victory.

After hanging up, Phil Coulson led his team back toward the battlefield. Though they couldn't intervene directly, they needed to monitor the situation closely and report developments to headquarters.

A few minutes later, Phil Coulson still hadn't received a call back from Nick Fury. Instead, what he got was the sound of roaring Apache helicopters.

Six Apache gunships flew in, their rotors thundering as they approached Times Square. From a distance, they launched anti-tank missiles at the "dancing swan" tanks standing tall.

Dozens of anti-tank missiles rained down, instantly blanketing the entire tank formation.

It all happened so fast that Max Dillon didn't even have time to react before over a dozen tanks were reduced to rubble.

But before the Apache crews could celebrate, Times Square lit up with bright flames as the multi-barrel rocket system fired.

With a range of several hundred kilometers and enough power to level a building, the rocket system launched over twenty warheads, providing a devastating counterattack on the Apache formation.

New Yorkers were treated to yet another free fireworks display as the explosions' shockwaves expanded the area of destruction.

Now, it wasn't just Times Square that was in ruins. Even areas farther away were getting hit. If the destruction spread further, it would soon reach the Osborn Corporation and the under-construction Stark Tower.

Meanwhile, on the yacht, Su Ye's phone rang again. This time, it wasn't Sharon Carter—it was Nick Fury.

"The approval just came through. The helicopter is en route. Minister of Red Shield, New York needs you!"

Nick Fury didn't waste any time, getting straight to the point. At the same time, Su Ye's phone received an appointment letter stamped with the World Security Council's seal.

"However, there's one condition."

Nick Fury's tone was completely flat.

"The council approved this appointment with one caveat: You need to neutralize the enemy without further escalating the situation."

Since Harry's yacht had satellite tracking, Nick Fury knew Su Ye's location and had already dispatched a helicopter. This didn't surprise Su Ye.

As for the condition in the appointment letter, that was to be expected. Without such a clause, those old bureaucrats wouldn't have signed it so easily.

"No problem," Su Ye replied with a smile. "Also, you can notify the fire department and hospitals now. When I arrive, the fight will be over. Have the firefighters and medics ready for post-battle relief."

"I'll handle it," Nick Fury said solemnly before hanging up.

Gwen walked up beside Su Ye.

"Who were you talking to just now? What's Red Shield?"

Su Ye pulled Gwen closer, looking at her seriously. "Do you remember the chaos in Harlem a few days ago?"

"You mean the Abomination and… S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Martial Saint?" Gwen nodded. Though she had been busy lately, she still kept in touch with her hacker friends.

It was true that S.H.I.E.L.D. had sealed off information about Harlem, but with the hackers' relentless efforts, uncovering the names Abomination and Martial Saint hadn't been difficult.

Su Ye exhaled. "Time to come clean. I'm the Martial Saint."

"You!" Gwen's eyes widened in shock. "Since when have you been involved with S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Su Ye shook his head. "That's not important right now. I need your help with something!"

Seeing his serious expression, Gwen put aside her questions and nodded resolutely. "No problem. Just tell me what you need."

The helicopter soon arrived near the yacht, picking up Su Ye and Gwen. Harry had wanted to join as well but was stopped by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

"Mr. Osborn, the enemy specializes in controlling electricity and magnetic fields. Your glider would be rendered useless, so we strongly advise against your presence on the battlefield."

In Times Square, Max Dillon floated mid-air, arcs of electricity connecting his body to the ground cables as he continuously absorbed power to fill his energy void.

At the same time, his cold, eel-like eyes scanned the surroundings. After a brief pause, he suddenly shouted:

"Anyone else?! Come on!"

No one answered.

With so many police officers dead and military tanks and helicopters destroyed, the soldiers no longer dared to advance. Times Square resembled a post-apocalyptic wasteland, devoid of life, filled only with the remnants of battle and smoke.

It looked just like the battlefields of Yin and A in the past.

Meanwhile, fire trucks and ambulances began to gather at the periphery, as if preparing for the cleanup even before the battle had ended.

The fight wasn't even over yet, and they were already prepping for the aftermath? How fitting.

At that moment, everyone following the battle finally witnessed the scene they had been eagerly awaiting.

Amidst the rubble, a figure appeared. Wearing a red opera mask, he walked steadily and confidently toward Max Dillon.

Those in the know recognized it as the face of Guan Yu from traditional Chinese opera masks. Insiders identified him as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secret hero, the "Martial Saint."

For the uninformed masses, his upright posture and deliberate steps immediately instilled a sense of confidence.

On the field, Su Ye stopped some distance away and pulled out a loudspeaker from behind him.

The kind of loudspeaker often seen in comedy shows, usually blaring something silly like, "We buy old appliances! We buy old computers!"

Of course, Su Ye wasn't about to ruin his grand entrance with a lame joke like that.

Raising the loudspeaker, Su Ye channeled his energy and bellowed, his voice booming like a great bell: "Electric Man ahead, do you dare dismount and face me in battle?!"

Okay, maybe this one was even worse.

His voice echoed across the rubble, and through the broadcast signal, it reached the ears of countless viewers worldwide.

Viewers collectively frowned. This hero, who seemed so impressive at first glance, wasn't living up to expectations. He needed a loudspeaker to amplify his voice and asked the enemy to come down since he couldn't fly up.

If Electric Man really came down, would this guy pull another trick and have someone else fight for him?

From afar, Max Dillon stared at Su Ye. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place where he had heard it before.

If he couldn't remember, then it didn't matter. Today, he was the main character. Anyone trying to steal the spotlight would be eliminated.

From the sky, Max Dillon remained motionless but gently waved his arm. A bolt of lightning descended toward Su Ye. This kind of attack had killed officers and flung police cars before—unstoppable and deadly.

Yet on the ground, Su Ye seemed to have predicted the move. The moment Max Dillon raised his hand, Su Ye dodged. By the time the lightning struck the ground, he had already flipped through the air, landing over ten meters away.

"What was that…" Whether it was the agents observing from afar or the viewers watching on TV, everyone felt a sudden chill run down their spines.

"That dodge was incredible! God-tier prediction!"

"Is this the legendary 'I anticipated your anticipation'?"

"Even though using a loudspeaker was kinda lame, why am I suddenly hyped for this guy?"

"Who is this guy? Can someone who knows explain?"

"I don't know his real identity, but that mask is unmistakable. It's the opera face of Guan Yu, the Martial Saint!"

"Using Guan Yu's mask—does that mean this superhero is Chinese? Does our country have its own superhero now?"

"Heh, my friend, drop the questioning tone. Be brave—of course, China has superheroes. Just because you don't know doesn't mean they don't exist."

"Come to think of it, the kids born after 2000 or 2010 probably don't know about that event!"

"What event? Come on, spill it, old-timer!"

"1999, heh…"

"Can't talk about it. No more details…"

"That was our youth. Since it's in the past, let's leave it there."

"Full of memories, nothing but nostalgia!"

While the battle in New York remained unresolved, the hashtag #WhatHappenedIn1999 quickly climbed the trending charts.

In China, as the Times Square battle was being broadcast live, the Su family couple sat watching, munching snacks and chuckling at the viewer comments.

When the topic of 1999 appeared, their movements froze simultaneously. They exchanged a knowing glance, then silently returned to watching the broadcast with cheerful expressions.

From start to finish, neither of them spoke a word.