115. Mushroom bombs to end the war? Keep dreaming!

While the military was deliberating over the global nuclear disarmament plan, the Avengers finally arrived belatedly at the battlefield in New York and swiftly plunged into the fray.

Thor led the charge, swinging his mighty hammer like a god descending from the heavens… well, he was literally the God of Thunder.

With one mighty lift, thunder roared; with one powerful strike, lightning erupted in all directions.

Mjolnir was truly a formidable weapon—though magical, it could summon celestial thunder to unleash devastating area-of-effect damage and possessed an unimaginable weight, crushing foes to death or crippling them.

Yet, there was one thing Su Ye couldn’t quite grasp.

Clearly, the hammer allowed for infinite AoE attacks, rapidly clearing out the hordes with lightning strikes. So why did Thor insist on mimicking Captain America’s approach—swinging his hammer at enemies one by one in the midst of the crowds?

Wouldn’t it be more efficient to clear the enemies faster, so everyone could go enjoy some Turkish kebabs together?

Or perhaps Thor deliberately held back his power to maintain the Avengers’ collective average, making himself appear less exceptional?

Neither seemed quite right.

Thor seemed to be the least intellectually sharp among the entire Avengers, only marginally smarter than Drax the Destroyer of the Guardians of the Galaxy—a big, muscular brute whose brain was squeezed out by his muscles.

Maybe, in Thor’s mind, using AoE skills wasn’t as satisfying as hammering down enemies one by one.

Because of Thor’s gallant display—striking the ground repeatedly with his hammer—the battlefield situation after the Avengers joined the fight barely changed.

The Avengers could clear fewer than a hundred ordinary Chitauri soldiers per minute, a rate negligible compared to the relentless, overwhelming onslaught of the massive aerial assault.

In fact, most city residents hardly noticed the Avengers’ arrival at all.

Instead, it was Max, the electrifying hero who had been zapping the hordes with lightning from atop Stark Tower, who had long since captured everyone’s attention with his valiant performance and overwhelming power.

Some initially speculated that Max might be connected to the blue-skinned menace who had attacked Times Square, but upon seeing the charred Chitauri bodies falling from the sky, they quickly convinced themselves otherwise.

The blue-skinned villain was a ruthless supercriminal; this lightning hero was a savior of the world—how could they be equated?

By the end, even office workers in skyscrapers and pedestrians on the streets couldn’t help but cheer for Max.

Those cheers were like a drug, wildly stimulating Max’s nerves and driving him to fight even harder.

It was a perfect, virtuous cycle.

Eventually, Max got so carried away that—even as his power level dropped below 40%—he continued to discharge electricity excitedly.

It was Sharon who, noticing the danger via equipment, called him back.

“Your body is your greatest asset. What if you run out of power and get killed by the enemy? How can you face those relying on you for rescue? Be sensible and go recharge immediately!”

Max said nothing and obediently went to recharge.

It was precisely at that moment that Thor and the rest of the Avengers joined the battlefield.

After a brief electrifying rampage, Thor abandoned his childish desire to be a super soldier on the ground, and Max, freshly recharged, immediately resumed his activity on the battlefield, their actions almost seamlessly linked.

As a result, almost no one knew that a burly man wielding a lightning-charged hammer had ever appeared on the battlefield; everyone assumed that the sole wielder of electricity was Max alone.

Max’s reputation soared dramatically, directly elevating the Avengers’ prestige in New York to a level of “Reverence.”

Throughout this, Su Ye had been crouched before the Cosmic Cube activation device, performing various seemingly diligent but actually perfunctory and half-hearted attempts.

Until he received a communication from Nick Fury.

“Uncle Su, get everyone out of Stark Tower immediately. The military just launched a low-yield mushroom bomb there—I couldn’t intercept it. You need to evacuate right now, immediately!”

Hearing Fury’s words, Su Ye sighed. Of course, what was bound to happen had arrived.

The Americans were always decisive; once they said mushroom bomb, it meant deploying it without hesitation. Even a low-yield detonation at Stark Tower would cause immeasurable damage.

Glancing up at the sky, Su Ye shook his head once again. Without the constraints of special effects budgets, the endless, massive aerial bombardment overhead was astonishing.

Under these circumstances, if Iron Man tried to charge the mushroom bomb while holding it, it would be harder than standing out among billions of tadpoles.

The chance of accidentally destroying the alien mothership, Sanctuary One, was infinitesimal. The best outcome would be detonating the mushroom bomb at the spatial portal’s entrance in midair.

That might inflict heavy casualties on the aliens near the portal, but the blast’s aftermath and nuclear radiation would also cause tremendous harm to the Great Wall Guardians below.

No matter how it looked, this was a no-win, hopeless situation.

At this moment, Su Ye’s prepared contingency was deployed.

“Max!”

Through the comms, Su Ye barked orders, instantly recalling Max, who was still buzzing in the air like a static ball.

“Uncle Su, Electric Man Max Dylan reporting for duty! Awaiting instructions!”

Even in midair, Max saluted—Chinese style—making Su Ye laugh and groan simultaneously.

Su Ye waved off formalities and pointed toward the direction Nick Fury had indicated.

“Over there—a small one is flying this way, trying to plant a mushroom bomb under us. It’s your target. Go take it down. Confidence?”

At the start of the battle, Max might have hesitated about the mushroom bomb’s arrival—total disregard would have been foolish, born of ignorance.

But after the earlier fighting, with Max’s zeal and resolve at a fever pitch, nothing could suppress his aspiration to be a hero defending Earth.

“Sir, rest assured! Mission will be accomplished! If I can’t dismantle it, I’ll just eat it!”

With a roar, Max became a streak of electricity, like a soldier plugging a dam breach during a flood, his face resolute as he sped off.

Meanwhile, far out at sea, a missile about two meters long hurtled toward New York at near-supersonic speed.

Within the city, the Avengers learned from Nick Fury about the incoming mushroom bomb. Iron Man instantly transformed into a streak of fire, rushing toward the bomb’s trajectory.

Personally and professionally, he couldn’t allow this mushroom bomb to be planted in Manhattan, especially not atop Stark Tower.

Fortunately, the bomb’s speed was slow enough for Iron Man to push it off course, guiding it to a location where it wouldn’t endanger the city or its inhabitants.

If he failed or an accident triggered an early detonation, Iron Man might be buried alongside the bomb.

Yet Tony Stark had no time for hesitation.

In the chaos of the storm, a hero’s true colors shine—and this moment marked the beginning of Tony Stark’s metamorphosis from playboy to genuine hero.

Following J.A.R.V.I.S.’ navigation, Iron Man swiftly reached the sea and tracked the mushroom bomb’s position.

As he prepared to approach and divert it, J.A.R.V.I.S.’ radar suddenly detected a high-energy reaction atop the bomb.

From Tony’s perspective, he saw a glowing cluster—like electricity—circling the bomb’s surface. Countless electric tendrils slithered like tentacles, slipping through rivets and weld seams into the casing.

“What... alien life form is this?”

Before he could react further, the bomb’s tail flame flickered twice and then vanished.

Without its propulsion flame, the bomb was now a dud.

Tony hesitated. Should he catch the powerless bomb? If he did, where could he safely take it?

His heroic transformation had just begun—and now it abruptly stalled. The feeling was like someone squeezing his manhood as his bladder threatened to burst.

At that moment, the illusory electric currents on the bomb began to coalesce into a humanoid form.

Tony recognized the figure—it was none other than Max Dylan, the Electric Man who had joined the Red Shield Branch after dismantling Times Square.

Sweat beaded on Max’s forehead. Disabling the bomb’s propulsion and detonation mechanisms wasn’t as simple as controlling tanks or multiple rocket launchers, despite his confident words.

If not for his background as an electrical engineer and his forced familiarity with various devices at work, few could have succeeded.

But Max had done his duty well—and now he could report back to Su Ye.

Relaxed, Max greeted Iron Man over comms before continuing at full speed toward New York, holding the mushroom bomb.

Tony Stark, utterly baffled, opened the comm channel.

“Hey, Mr. Max, where exactly are you taking this thing?”

Max’s tone was cheerful and friendly.

“Just follow me and you’ll see.”

Tony was speechless.

With mounting confusion, the two flew in tandem, soon entering New York’s urban area and soaring past towering skyscrapers.

Finally, Max reached the rooftop of a building, placing the mushroom bomb inside an iron box on the platform, casually closing the lid.

He then called out to a man sitting cross-legged nearby, seemingly deep in thought.

“Commander, I’m back. Mission accomplished!”

Tony Stark’s jaw dropped.

“That’s… Stark Tower! Though I don’t come here often, this is still my property! It cost a fortune! You guys just brought the mushroom bomb back here without asking me? What if it explodes?”

And that other guy over there—this is a mushroom bomb, a lonely egg, an egg! Please have some basic sense of urgency!

Su Ye, however, didn’t even glance at the bomb. Calmly waving his hand, he said,

“Comrade Max, well done. The organization will remember your contribution. I hope you keep it up. There are many more aliens in the city—go continue to write your legendary story!”

“Sir!” Max snapped to attention, saluted, turned, and flew off with sharp precision—no hesitation or slack. Tony was dumbfounded.

So this was the Red Shield Branch? These Great Wall Guardians? Their efficiency and execution outpaced even the Avengers on his side by miles.

Suddenly, Tony felt a strange urge to join them.

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Su Ye greeted casually, never once looking at the iron box containing the bomb, as if it didn’t exist.

Tony opened his mouth to say something but fell silent when he noticed the bat-shaped emblem embossed on the box’s lid.

If the box came from that man codenamed Batman, then he really didn’t have to worry about the bomb being remotely detonated again.

That man had, unknowingly, established a trustworthy and admirable reputation.

Su Ye then beckoned Tony over.

“You’re knowledgeable about energy. Could you come help figure out how to shut down this device?”