Free Web NovelChapter 36: 36: Don’t dwell on it. You’ll just get depressed
Equality is a lie. People are not born equal. Some are born with greater talent, intelligence, or potential than others. The world is not fair, and pretending it is only weakens those who believe the lie.
~ Kiyotaka Ayanokoji Paraphrased
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"Wait here."
"W-wait!" Cate chased after him a few steps. "Farid is still down there. His power is geological manipulation. The whole bunker is his weapon..."
"Don’t forget I’m the one who dragged you two along on this mission. I already know exactly what the enemy can do."
"Then why are you going down alone?"
Hillel looked back at her like she was an idiot.
"Just stay put. Daddy’s going down to handle some business and I’ll come pick you up soon."
With that he kicked off the ground and dropped straight into the darkness.
His figure vanished in seconds.
Cate and Jordan stood there.
"He definitely thinks we’re dead weight," Cate said.
First day on the job and they had already fucked up big time for their boss, right?
"We really are weak as shit," Jordan muttered, sliding down the wall and holding their gut.
In male form Jordan packed several tons of strength, but punching that bald giant felt like tickling him. Meanwhile The Guardian had just yeeted the guy into space.
"This gap..." Jordan closed their eyes.
Cate shook her head. "Don’t dwell on it. You’ll just get depressed."
...
One hundred and fifty meters underground.
Hillel smashed through several layers of rock and reached the deepest part of the shelter.
The place was a massive domed chamber, thirty meters high and hundreds of meters wide. It looked like a natural underground cathedral.
The rock walls around him were polished smooth as mirrors, every surface covered in the marks of Farid’s power.
In the center stood a man.
Behind him loomed a giant statue of some deity, one hand holding up the sky, the other stretched across its chest. free𝑤ebnovel.com
Farid, forty-one years old, wore a dusty yellow robe. His face was worn and weathered.
The ground under his feet shifted slightly. If you looked close, his feet weren’t even touching the gravel. He was hovering just above it.
"You from Vought?"
Farid stood with his hands behind his back, trying to look like a big deal.
Real showman type, huh?
"How does it feel to come all the way here, just to step in front of your death?" Farid said, his voice carrying that thick accent.
"Farid, codename Sandstorm. 2003 supe with geological manipulation. You’re practically an old-timer," Hillel said. "Nobody was bothering you. Why the sudden urge to fuck with everyone?"
Farid answered, "For justice."
Hillel pulled some photos from his pocket and tossed them on the ground. All civilians caught in the crossfire.
"This is your justice? Since when does justice mean slaughtering civilians and running terrorist attacks?"
Farid said, "For the greater good, these are necessary sacrifices. In the heaven god created, they have been freed from suffering and will live happily."
"The Guardian, I know who you are. You call yourself the symbol of justice. You should understand that sometimes justice requires certain sacrifices."
Hillel tilted his head.
Times really have changed. Even terrorists want to lecture me about justice.
Wait, no. I’m not playing a hero who listens to the villain’s monologue and tries to reason with him. I’m guest-starring as the final boss for this canon fodder.
"Yeah, alright boomer, enough with the bullshit. I need to take your head back to finish the job. By the way, next time fix your sewage system. The smell down here is fucking layered." Hillel brushed dust off his suit.
There wasn’t any real dust. His bio-field kept it all off, but the stench was unbearable.
"Then you should already know that on my turf, nobody can beat me."
Farid raised one hand.
The entire domed chamber started shaking.
The rock walls, floor, and ceiling all came alive at once.
Countless stone spikes erupted from every direction, packed tight like a giant beast opening its mouth full of teeth.
These spikes all pointed straight at Hillel.
"Over the past twenty years," Farid’s voice boomed from every direction, like the rock walls themselves were talking, "the military has come after me three times. Each time with special forces and air support."
"Hahaha. They all died."
"How much stronger do you think you are than them, coming down here alone?"
Hillel counted the spikes covering the walls. There were thousands of them, each one thick as an arm with tips sharp as spears.
If they all fired at once, anything alive in this space would get shredded into a bloody sieve.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"Impressive. Really fucking spectacular. You remind me of a manga character. Have you ever watched One Piece?" Hillel praised him sincerely.
He honestly hadn’t expected to run into a real-life version of someone who could control sand like Crocodile. This kind of power would probably rate Level 4 at the X-Mansion.
Farid didn’t waste time talking. He thrust both hands forward and thousands of rock spikes shot out at the same time.
The speed was impossible to react to.
Coming from every angle, they sealed off every escape route. Not even a fly could slip through.
He knew the guy in front of him was tough. The man had wiped out three of his supe guards in under a minute. Even by Vought standards that was high-tier.
But Farid had mobilized the entire rock structure of the underground city, turning everything within five hundred meters into a weapon.
There was no way to lose.
...
Vought Tower.
On the live broadcast the cameraman kept the shot locked on the two-hundred-meter crater.
A deep rumbling like thunder rolled up from underground.
The whole desert trembled slightly.
"Ladies and gentlemen! It looks like an intense battle is raging underground!"
The reporter got their shit together again.
"The Guardian has gone deep into the bunker to fight the super terrorist! You can feel the vibrations under our feet..."
The pilot helpfully shook the helicopter hard.
"...Extremely violent tremors! This shows the fight down there is on a scale we can barely imagine!"
Edgar watched the screen with zero expression.
Hillel’s strength was way beyond what he had expected. He thought the guy was maybe on Homelander’s level, but now... he glanced.
All Homelander could think about was how high his own popularity would be if he was the one down there right now.
...
One hundred and fifty meters underground.
Thousands of rock spikes slammed toward Hillel from every side.
The corner of Farid’s mouth curled up.
This should turn you into red mist, right?
Hillel just stood there and yawned.
"I want Łazanki tonight. No idea where to even get it in New York. Tomato pasta is fucking garbage."
He thought to himself.
The spikes hit his body and shattered like cheap chocolate sticks.
Every single rock spike that touched him never even reached his actual skin. They smashed into the bio-field around him and turned to powder instantly.
What made Viltrumites truly scary was their physical body.
But here was some asshole who couldn’t even tear his clothes talking about killing him.
What a cringy, arrogant prick.
Can anyone relate?
The spikes crumbled into dust and rained down with a soft rustling sound.
Farid’s face went from calm to shocked, then from shocked to straight-up disbelief. A whole fucking pie chart of emotions.
"No... impossible... how strong are you?"
"Oh? Don’t dwell on it. You’ll just get depressed."
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