Flame Punch: Martial Saint’s Strike

Crackle! Boom!

Crackle! Boom!

Blue-white bolts of electricity shot down continuously from the sky, blasting deep craters into the ground. Dirt and debris scattered like bullets from a gun.

Amidst the dense lightning, Su Ye relied on his razor-sharp reflexes to anticipate where each bolt would strike. He always moved a step ahead, dodging the electric onslaught just in time.

In just a few minutes, this superhero wearing the Guan Yu mask had left a lasting impression. While his offensive power remained unclear, his agility, core strength, and stamina were nothing short of awe-inspiring.

In the sky, Max Dillon was both surprised and furious.

Why couldn't he hit this bastard? Why wouldn't he just stand still and take the hit? Didn't he know tonight was Max Dillon's spotlight, his grand performance? There could only be one star on this stage, and that star was Max Dillon!

When even his lightning couldn't land a hit, Max Dillon realized that using his magnetic powers to hurl cars or concrete chunks would be pointless. They were slower and even easier to dodge.

So, does this mean I have to fight him up close?

At first, Max Dillon rejected the idea. Why should he, the main character, play by a sidekick's rules? If he told him to come down, he should? Who was the real boss of New York? Who owned the stage?

But now, it seemed he had no choice. His ranged attacks were ineffective—he'd have to fight up close.

On second thought, it didn't matter. As long as he defeated this guy, the crowd would still see him as the glorious Max Dillon. He would remain the Electrifying Man, the King of Lightning—the undisputed star of the night.

Decision made, Max Dillon transformed into a bolt of lightning and charged downward.

The moment Su Ye saw Max Dillon diving toward him, a smirk formed at the corner of his lips.

Good, you're coming down. Now we can really have some fun.

Clenching his fist, Su Ye raised his arm high. Just before Max Dillon could reach him, he slammed his fist hard into the ground.

The spectators were puzzled. Why wasn't this "Guan Yu" dodging? Why was he hitting the ground? Was he trying to dig a hole to hide in? Wasn't it a little late for that?

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Just as everyone was confused, an enormous pillar of fiery energy erupted from the ground without warning, like a volcanic eruption. The massive column shot straight up, colliding violently with the descending Max Dillon.

Energy Fountain!

"YES! That's it!" From a distance, Phil Coulson couldn't help but pump his fist. The scene reminded him of the Martial Saint's battle against the Abomination. This was exactly what he'd hoped for—perfect execution.

As Max Dillon, transformed into a bolt of electricity, was launched skyward by the energy fountain, fiery sparks crackled across his body. He trembled uncontrollably as gasps of shock echoed worldwide.

"Unbelievable!"

"Holy shit!"

"OMG!"

"Unbelievable!"

"Holy shit!"

"Awesome!"

"Damn!"

Exclamations of shock, amazement, and disbelief filled everyone's minds.

They were used to Iron Man fighting in his suit, Spider-Man swinging with webs, and Batman punching with steel fists. But seeing someone unleash such a ferocious attack with their bare hands was a first.

The praise and admiration poured in without reservation.

After the Energy Fountain blasted Max Dillon away, Su Ye didn't stop. With his fist engulfed in flames, he launched himself forward in an instant.

Flame Punch!

Though the Flame Punch appeared to be a simple straight punch, it was actually a mobility skill. It allowed him to close several meters—sometimes even over ten—in an instant, slamming his fiery fist directly into his opponent's face.

The satisfaction of his fist connecting with a face was even better than the thrill of speeding in a fast car.

If he could ever master this punch to the level of Saitama's legendary strikes, it would be perfect.

When Max Dillon transformed into pure electricity, anything he touched—whether intentionally or not—would be struck by his current. But Su Ye's Flame Punch, using the elemental properties of fire, effectively neutralized the electric attack.

This allowed him to knock Max Dillon away without sustaining any damage from the electricity.

With a resounding boom, the Flame Punch lit up the night sky. Sparks of electricity scattered wildly from Max Dillon's body as he was hurled away, tracing a parabolic arc before crashing into the distance.

This was the first time Max Dillon had taken a direct hit since his appearance. Though the extent of the damage was unclear, landing a blow on him was already enough to earn widespread acclaim.

After all, this was something neither an entire tank battalion nor a squadron of attack helicopters had been able to achieve.

However, after landing the punch that sent Max Dillon flying, Su Ye didn't press his advantage.

In a battle under the global spotlight, showing off some combat prowess was fine, but it wouldn't be wise to reveal all his abilities at once.

After landing the hit, Su Ye twisted mid-air and flipped back to his original spot. He bent down, picked up his loudspeaker, and appeared ready to make another announcement.

In the distance, Max Dillon, knocked to the ground, slowly rose from the rubble. His clothes were scorched and covered in dust, leaving him looking utterly miserable.

"You bastard! You ruined my performance!" Max Dillon growled, blue-white electricity crackling from his hands as his expression twisted into one of violent rage.

"I'll make you…"

Just as Max Dillon was about to deliver a threat, a powerful jet of high-pressure water hit him square in the back, slamming him down from the sky to the ground.

The high-pressure stream didn't let up, continuing to pummel Max Dillon. Within moments, a large puddle had formed in the rubble where he had fallen.

Lying in the puddle, Max Dillon tried to rise and summon his electric power again. But the water, acting as a conductor, immediately dispersed his current. Even his own body seemed to short-circuit from being submerged, leaving him paralyzed in place.

Meanwhile, Su Ye spoke through the loudspeaker again.

"Attention all departments: Firefighters, move in to extinguish fires and provide rescue operations. Medical teams, tend to the wounded immediately. To the spectators farther away—please return home. Times Square is now closed indefinitely. Everyone, exit in an orderly fashion!"

His voice overpowered the crowd's cheers, cooling their excitement. At the same time, it introduced them to a superhero who wasn't just a skilled fighter but also an effective leader, capable of coordinating rescue efforts and caring for the public.

At that moment, even many die-hard Captain America fans couldn't help but compare him to the masked man before them.

The conclusion? Captain America was a historical figure whose deeds had been recorded, embellished, and even fabricated by others. Respectable, sure, but not entirely trustworthy.

But this masked hero was real. He had single-handedly subdued a super-criminal who had humiliated both the police and the military.

Collective honor wasn't a strong suit in this land, but their reverence for individual heroism was unmatched. And with the police and military as his backdrop, Su Ye's performance shone even brighter.

The identity of the masked "Martial Saint Guan Yu" was soon uncovered, and the name Martial Saint spread rapidly. His legend quickly went viral across the globe.

You could say that as many people who knew of Times Square now knew of the Martial Saint.

The rumors started with the Martial Saint punching Electric Man away and escalated to him supposedly punching away dozens of tanks and several attack helicopters.

The stories kept getting exaggerated to ridiculous levels, eventually becoming downright fantastical.

"Do you know why the moon has craters?"

"That's because the Martial Saint was practicing his punches. One hit, and bam, a crater appeared!"

As absurd as this rumor was, some people actually believed it.

Many even bought telescopes to examine the moon, imagining which Martial Saint technique had created each crater—was it the "Sitting Bodhisattva" or the "Old Man's Push"?

Some even created a fake "Martial Saint's True Legacy: Eighteen Moves of Awe" and sold it everywhere, duping many gullible young women.

Of course, these were stories for another time.

On the scene, following Su Ye's instructions, firefighters and medical personnel began entering in an orderly fashion. It truly looked like he was leading the rescue effort.

After a night of chaos, Times Square was essentially razed to the ground. There was no point in repairing the buildings; they would have to be demolished and rebuilt from scratch.

The economic losses were so severe that even if the entire Osborn Group were sold, it wouldn't cover the damages.

Reportedly, Times Square alone generated $100 billion in GDP annually. In comparison, the Osborn Group's market value was only $200 billion.

And market value was often illusory—a single stock market fluctuation could cut it in half.

Fortunately, the Osborn Group wasn't responsible for the damages. The destruction was caused by Max Dillon and the military.

Max Dillon was a worthless criminal, and while the military had the funds, they might not admit liability—especially since General Ross, the one in charge, was now out of commission.

The old man was lucky to survive the helicopter crash, but it didn't look good—he might spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.

Ultimately, the insurance companies would likely bear the burden. After all, wasn't America known for its extensive insurance policies? Now was the time for them to step up and take the hit.

At this point, the insurance companies were probably crying their hearts out in the bathroom.

As for the specifics of the rescue, medical aid, and property damage assessments, Su Ye had no intention of getting involved.

He first bid farewell to Gwen, instructing her to head home on her own.

It was Gwen, disguised as a firefighter, who had used the high-pressure water cannon to knock Max Dillon out of the sky, leading to his easy capture.

Everyone knows water can short out electrical devices. But in that high-stakes situation, no one had thought of it, complicating what should have been a simple problem. A landmark was destroyed, a military unit was decimated, and yet Max Dillon remained unscathed—until now.

This just goes to show—having brains is a good thing, but not everyone has them.

After sending Gwen off, Su Ye, accompanied by Sharon Carter, headed to the police van where Max Dillon was being held.

At this point, Max Dillon had been stripped of his outerwear and securely restrained with insulating materials. The police van even had a large tub filled with water, where he was submerged.

Deprived of any electrical recharge and soaked in water, all chances of Max Dillon staging a comeback were thoroughly eliminated.

When Su Ye approached the van, the officers instinctively saluted him. His earlier actions had earned their utmost respect.

"Good evening, sir!"

Su Ye nodded, stepped into the van, and Sharon Carter followed, closing the door behind her.

Inside, only two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who recognized Su Ye were present. Su Ye removed his mask and greeted them with a smile.

"Good work, everyone."

The two agents were so flustered they didn't know what to do with their hands, almost blurting out, "Good day, Commander!"

At that moment, Max Dillon, who had been sulking in silence, suddenly widened his eyes in shock and shouted as he recognized Su Ye.

"Snake! It was you who beat me earlier?"

After being blasted out of the sky with a water cannon, Max Dillon had already been feeling utterly defeated.

As an electrical engineer, he hadn't realized that his transformed state had such a glaring weakness. If they had used water cannons earlier, he would've been defeated right away, and all his feats—destroying tanks and downing helicopters—would never have happened.

Now, he'd been humiliated, his weakness exposed. From now on, playing the main character like he had tonight would be nearly impossible.

It was all that masked man's fault. If not for him, Max Dillon would still be the star.

When the masked man boarded the van, Max Dillon had been glaring daggers at him—his only way of expressing hostility now.

But when the man removed his mask, Max Dillon suddenly realized why he had felt a sense of familiarity earlier.

It turned out he knew this person. They were friends, even. They'd planned to have drinks together that very night.

Su Ye put on a convincingly surprised expression. After listening to the voice and looking closely, he pretended to be unsure. "Is that… Max?"

Max Dillon eagerly nodded. "Yeah, yeah, it's me!"

"But," Su Ye feigned confusion, "weren't you… already dead?"