"Beautiful!"
Su Xiu's voice rang out, bright and unrestrained, his face splitting into a grin that could've lit up the dim room all on its own. His eyes sparkled with a wild, contagious joy, his whole body practically vibrating with excitement.
Tony's triumph wasn't just Tony's—it was *his*. And that wasn't just sentimental pride talking. No, this was something far more tangible.
Every reward Tony clawed his way to earning? Su Xiu got it too—multiplied a hundred times over.
And if Tony could grit his teeth and survive the raw, messy chaos of the T-Virus enhancement, then Su Xiu could damn well do it too. Better, even.
This—this right here—was what it meant to win without breaking a sweat. The real deal.
[Ding—]
A crisp chime cut through his thoughts.
[Summoned: Black Widow has earned 100 points…]
[Hundredfold amplification in progress… Host receives 10,000 points…]
[Summoned: Iron Man has received T-Virus Enhancement…]
[Hundredfold amplification in progress… Host receives the Perfect Version of T-Virus Enhancement…]
Su Xiu's breath caught, his eyes narrowing as a hungry glint flickered in them.
"Is this it?" he murmured, stepping closer, his voice trembling with something between awe and greed.
Hovering in the air before him was a vial—small, delicate, and glowing with an otherworldly light. The liquid inside shimmered, swirling like a captured galaxy, tendrils of color twisting and pulsing as if alive. It was hypnotic, pulling him in like a moth to a flame.
Next to this, Tony's reward looked like a cheap knockoff—a rough draft scribbled out before the masterpiece was born.
Su Xiu barely spared a glance at the flood of points ticking up on his interface. Numbers were just noise now. His focus zeroed in on the real prize.
The *Perfect Version*. T-Virus Enhancement.
A low, shaky laugh slipped out of him, almost against his will.
"Tsk~"
"Finally…" He exhaled the word like a prayer. "I can ditch the 'weakling' label for good."
His fingers twitched as he reached for the vial, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Tony—poor bastard—thrashing on the floor nearby. Sweat drenched his face, his body jerking like a puppet with its strings cut, every muscle screaming as the T-Virus tore through him.
Su Xiu winced, his jaw tightening for a split second. That looked… rough.
But the fire in his chest burned hotter than any flicker of doubt. Power like this? Right there, dangling in front of him? He'd be a fool to hesitate.
[Use item?]
His grip closed around the vial, firm and decisive. He clenched his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and tilted his head back.
*Gulp—*
The liquid slid down his throat, cool and smooth, with a faint, clean taste—like the first sip of water from a mountain stream. He braced himself, muscles tensing for the inevitable onslaught. The pain. The fire. The gut-wrenching torment he'd seen Tony endure just steps away.
But… nothing.
Instead, a warmth unfurled inside him, soft and steady, like a tide washing over his bones. It spread through his veins, soothing every nerve, easing every knot of tension. He could've been sinking into a hot spring, steam curling around him on a frosty morning, the kind of comfort that made you forget the world existed.
Su Xiu blinked, dazed.
"Huh?"
He flexed his fingers experimentally. Rolled his shoulders.
No searing agony. No convulsions. No screaming.
He felt… *good*. Better than good.
"It… doesn't hurt?" His voice came out small, almost fragile, tinged with disbelief.
Then it clicked.
"This is the *Perfect Version*," he whispered, realization crashing over him like a wave. "No side effects. None of that messy trial-and-error crap."
His genes were shifting. His cells were rewriting themselves. But instead of tearing him apart and stitching him back together through sheer torment, the process was seamless. Effortless.
Perfect.
A slow, crooked grin spread across his face.
Without thinking, he flicked his wrist, sending a playing card spinning lazily into the air.
*BOOM!*
The sound hit first—a sharp, explosive crack that rattled the room. The card streaked forward like a gunshot, slicing through the air so fast it left a faint ripple in its wake.
*THUD—*
It slammed into the concrete floor, burying itself deep. Only a jagged corner poked out, trembling slightly from the impact.
Su Xiu froze, staring.
His breath slowed, his pupils shrinking as the weight of it sank in.
That was just a flick. A careless little toss.
And yet…
He let out a long, steady exhale, his gaze sweeping the room. Everything felt different now. Sharper. Slower.
The world hadn't changed—he had.
A mosquito buzzed lazily across the room, its wings glinting in the faint light. He could see it—*really* see it. Every twitch of its legs, every iridescent shimmer on its wings. His senses had sharpened to a razor's edge, cutting through the haze of what used to be normal.
A low whistle slipped past his lips.
"Damn…"
He flexed his fingers again, and a faint breeze stirred around them, unbidden.
"Even something as simple as a petal or a leaf…" His eyes flicked back to the card embedded in the floor. "…could be a weapon now?"
A chuckle rumbled in his chest, half-amused, half-disbelieving. He'd never pictured himself as some kung-fu legend, tossing blades of grass like throwing stars. But here he was.
Strength surged through him, raw and electric. His reflexes hummed, faster than he could've dreamed.
He wasn't the same Su Xiu anymore.
He'd been reborn.
If Tony's transformation had dragged him kicking and screaming to the brink of a Level 3 Mutant, then Su Xiu had just strolled right into that territory—no sweat, no struggle. And deep down, he suspected that once his body fully settled into this power, he might even nudge the line toward Level 4.
A meteoric leap.
His fist clenched, the power thrumming under his skin like a caged storm.
A weaker man might've let it go to his head, drunk on the rush of it all.
But Su Xiu?
He sucked in a deep breath, forcing his racing pulse to steady.
"No," he said, his voice low and firm, cutting through the silence. "I can't get cocky."
This was the Marvel universe. Freaks and gods lurked around every corner, each one more monstrous than the last.
This power? It was a start. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.
His fists loosened, the excitement simmering down to a quiet, focused burn.
He had to stay sharp. Patient.
This was just the beginning.
The invasion system had barely kicked into gear, and already he'd shed the "weakling" label like an old skin. He could walk through Hell's Kitchen now without flinching, without worrying some thug would snatch him off the street.
And the heroes? The ones throwing themselves into the fire of the invasion world? Whatever insane powers they clawed their way to next, Su Xiu would get them too—amplified a hundredfold.
Compared to them—bleeding, fighting, risking it all—he was the one coming out on top. The real winner, reaping the rewards from the sidelines.
A slow, sly smirk tugged at his lips.
"Now then…" His gaze flicked to the live feed flickering on his screen, a spark of anticipation lighting his eyes. "What's next?"
---
*Tap, tap, tap.*
Footsteps echoed down the shadowy corridor, sharp and deliberate against the cold metal floor. The faint hum of machinery buzzed in the distance, a constant undercurrent to the tension coiling in the air.
Black Widow led the pack, her strides smooth and predatory, like a panther stalking through the dark. Her face was a mask—cool, unreadable—but her eyes betrayed her, darting with a quiet, lethal alertness. The agents trailing behind her moved in tight formation, weapons gripped tight, their gazes sweeping every corner for the slightest hint of danger.
But something felt… wrong.
Tony Stark—newly minted superhuman and loving every second of it—was lost in his own world. He waded into the undead like a kid unleashed in a toy store, his fists swinging with reckless glee. Zombies and Lickers didn't stand a chance; he sent them flying, their mangled bodies crashing into walls with wet, ugly thuds. Blood streaked his suit, but he didn't care. If anything, he seemed to thrive on the chaos, a manic grin plastered across his face.
Matthew watched from a safe distance, his jaw tight, his expression caught somewhere between awe and outright horror.
"What the hell kind of freaks are these?" he muttered, barely audible.
A playboy engineer who could slug it out with Lickers in a fistfight? Sure, Tony's firepower was absurd—that was expected—but *this*? Hand-to-hand dominance? It was insane.
Then there was Black Widow.
She wasn't just some pretty face—that was a rookie mistake to assume. No, she was a *killer*. Her movements were a deadly ballet, all grace and precision. Every shot she fired was a bullseye, every strike a clean kill. She danced through the chaos like she'd been born for it, like death was an old friend she knew by name.
Matthew had seen top-tier mercenaries in action. He'd trained with the best. But this? This was something else entirely.
His throat went dry, his grip tightening on his rifle.
"When did the organization start recruiting *monsters* like this?" he breathed, half to himself. "She's just an intel operative, right?"
He almost laughed at the thought. *Just* an operative? Yeah, right.
The mercenaries behind him weren't faring much better. Their earlier swagger had evaporated, replaced by a heavy, humiliated silence. Heads bowed, eyes fixed on the floor—they'd been schooled, and they knew it.
"Stay sharp—" Matthew barked, forcing his voice steady despite the unease gnawing at him. "We're almost there."
At least Tony's rampage had cleared out the Lickers. That made his job easier, even if the guy was a loose cannon.
"Up ahead's the secret entrance to the underground base," he said, nodding toward a reinforced door glinting faintly at the corridor's end. "We get through the laser corridor, hit the lowest level, and find the Red Queen. Shut her down, and we're done. The rest is the company's problem."
The air thickened, heavy with unspoken tension.
They turned the final corner and stepped into a long, narrow passage. The walls gleamed a sterile silver-white, pristine and untouched—no blood, no ruin, just cold, flawless metal. It was a stark contrast to the gore-soaked halls they'd left behind.
Too clean.
Too perfect.
A chill prickled at the back of their necks.
This wasn't just a hallway. It was Umbrella tech at its finest—and its deadliest.
A soft chime broke the silence.
[Ding—]
[Side Mission: Laser Corridor]
[The only remaining path to the lowest level of the base. Once a pinnacle of Umbrella's technological advancements—now a deadly trap standing in your way. Hidden within this seemingly simple passage is an unseen killing machine.]
[Objective: Cross the Laser Corridor as quickly as possible!]
[Reward: Unknown.]
A faint, ghostly breeze seemed to ripple through the air, though the corridor was sealed tight.
This place…
Something was very, very wrong.