Chapter 6

As soon as Tony heard Clark's reply, he knew this guy was on his side—and he couldn't help but be overjoyed. Because Tony could see it clearly: his Iron Man armor was no match for Obadiah's Iron Monger suit, in both strength and firepower. Most importantly, Tony was still using his old arc reactor, and energy reserves were low.

"Kill Tony for me, and I'll give you 10% of Stark Industries."

Obadiah's face changed the moment he saw Clark side with Tony. He still feared this young man who could swat a missile from the air with his bare hands, so he quickly attempted to bribe him.

Tony's face fell when he heard this offer—because he knew just how much those 10% shares were worth.

But before he could say anything, Clark turned him down flat.

"Sorry. I don't like people who break the rules."

"Then go to hell!"

Obadiah, seeing Clark couldn't be bought, decided to strike first—he swung a massive punch at Clark with his left arm.

Bang!

But the punch didn't knock Clark back as Obadiah expected. Clark caught it mid-air with one hand.

It was a bizarre sight—a punch the size of a washbasin stopped by a hand barely a fifth of its size.

"What? How is this possible?!"

Obadiah knew exactly how powerful that punch was. He had been there through the Iron Monger's entire development process. That punch packed at least 10 tons of force. Yet Clark caught it effortlessly—he didn't even flinch.

Panicking, Obadiah activated his minigun and began to fire.

"Die!!"

But Clark didn't give him the chance.

Machine gun bullets didn't hurt him, but they still stung. So instead, Clark just smiled, released the punch, zipped to Obadiah's side, and drove his fist straight into the Iron Monger's chest.

"My turn."

BOOM!!

Obadiah's entire suit was blown back.

"Superboy, that was badass."

Tony walked over after Clark sent the Iron Monger flying.

"What did you call me?"

"Superman Junior. Isn't your name Clark Kent?"

Tony used Clark's full name intentionally—he wanted him to know he'd looked into him, understood who he was. A subtle threat, perhaps.

Clark immediately understood the implication. He could get why Tony would say that—but that didn't mean he liked it.

"You should call me Superman."

He turned his head and looked at the Iron Monger—who had just gotten back to his feet and was now raising both arms, unleashing dozens of missiles from both shoulders.

Clark's eyes turned red.

Then—two crimson laser beams burst from his pupils, sweeping across the sky and detonating every single missile before they could land.

Clark couldn't help but marvel a little.

"Marvel's tech is wild. Just regular humans, and yet once they slap on some machinery, they're suddenly super-resistant to impact."

Take Iron Man, Iron Monger, or even Doctor Octopus — guys who should be just fragile humans, but their suits somehow let them survive beatdowns from people like Spider-Man without so much as a bruise.

"Marvel mechs must come with built-in narrative armor."

The truth was, Clark had only used 0% of his full strength with that punch earlier. But even 0% of his power still amounted to tens of tons of force.

Realistically, even with the best shock absorption, there was only so much a machine of that size could take. Clark figured, with a hit like that, the pilot should at least have a concussion.

But no—Obadiah climbed out with barely a scratch. Not even scorched by the explosion of his own missiles.

Seeing the heat vision, Tony cracked a joke:

"Hey, don't tell me… are you really Superman?"

"Heh. Take a guess."

"…"

When the flames of the explosion died down, the Iron Monger emerged from the smoke, his armor scorched and damaged.

Clark looked at Obadiah's mech, then glanced at Tony's.

"Mind telling me what your armor's made of? It's impressively durable."

"Ha! Take a guess," Tony smirked.

Just then, Obadiah raised his minigun again and pointed it at them.

"You two bastards—die!"

He slammed the trigger.

"Doesn't matter what it's made of. This circus needs to end."

As Clark said this, Tony saw him make a subtle movement forward—and then vanish from sight.

An instant later, Clark reappeared right in front of the Iron Monger.

He extended his hand and drove it straight into the chestplate of the Iron Monger, the armor screeching under the force.

Then Clark tore it open, ripping out the arc reactor and the chest armor in a single motion.

Without the reactor, the Iron Monger lost all power. The minigun that had been roaring with metal fury went silent, the only sound left was Obadiah clicking the now-dead trigger.

Click… click…

Obadiah stared in horror. The only thing between him and Clark had just been torn away, and now the monster was right in front of him.

He tried to smile — a desperate, pitiful grin.

"I give up. Is it too late?"

Clark grinned.

"You tell me."

Obadiah relaxed for a moment — maybe Clark wouldn't finish him off?

"AHHHHHH!!"

Then came the scream of agony.

Clark had grabbed the Iron Monger suit with one hand, and with Obadiah still inside, blasted off into the sky at Mach 10.

Obadiah, missing his chestplate, was exposed to the high-altitude wind and pressure. He felt like he was falling out of the suit.

This was a hundred times more terrifying than a rollercoaster.

But then came something worse — the higher they went, the thinner the air, the colder it got. He found it hard to breathe. He looked up—the moon was huge.

That's when it hit him.

He was in space.

Clark was taking him to outer space.

And just before he blacked out, he realized:

"Sh*t… he's going to throw me into the void!"

That was Obadiah's final thought.

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