Marvel: DNF Invades

Of course, Luke knew that the other three hadn't used their full skills. Agent May hadn't drawn her gun, Hawkeye hadn't shot an arrow, and Black Widow hadn't even used her electric shock device, Widow's Bite, or any other hidden weapons.

It was probably because of his age—they couldn't bring themselves to go all out against a kid.

But even if they had used their abilities, they still wouldn't have broken through his Mind Shield. Who wouldn't have a backup plan?

Luke was certain he had won.

"I never thought that just my fighting skills alone would allow me to compete with Black Widow and her friends. This is a great start. I'm no longer just an ordinary person."

His original goal had been to escape the ranks of those powerless individuals whose lives were worthless. Now, he had done it.

The next step was to keep growing stronger—rising through the ranks, becoming a first-rate player, and eventually standing at the pinnacle of the Marvel world.

All of this was to ensure he could live freely in this dangerous world.

"Without my mech, my combat skills put me somewhere between the second and third tier of Marvel heroes, right? But of course, only a fool would go into battle empty-handed. It's better to integrate all these fighting techniques into mech combat. Yeah, that's far more practical."

As Luke was thinking this over, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Agent May slowly climbed back to their feet, one after another.

Their ears were still ringing, their minds hazy.

It felt as if some prehistoric beast had suddenly roared right next to them, rattling their very bones and making them feel like they were about to shatter.

They never wanted to experience that terrible sensation again.

Black Widow and Hawkeye had no idea how Luke had done it. They simply looked at him with complicated expressions.

Agent May, on the other hand, who was more familiar with Eastern martial arts, had a vague suspicion about the technique he had used. But she remained silent, simply watching Luke.

Luke shrugged.

What? Let them go?

Not a chance!

Without another word, he climbed back into his mech. Then, he ordered the three of them to disarm before locking them up in the reinforced glass cell once more.

He had no intention of releasing them yet.

At the very least, not until he had squeezed every bit of value out of them.

As the saying went: in this situation, he was the butcher, and they were the fish.

Right now, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Agent May were completely at his mercy.

They were faced with a brat who had the power to crush them at any moment, a brat whose ideological education was clearly a little… off. And worst of all, he refused to let them go.

They could only grit their teeth and endure.

Outside, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that May had brought with her were still on standby.

She could have given the order to attack. But first of all, Nick Fury had instructed her to make contact and negotiate, not engage. Secondly, after witnessing Luke's mech firsthand, she knew that sending in the agents would be nothing short of a massacre.

And so, the three of them had no choice but to wait, silently pondering their next move as they observed Luke's actions.

Then, May's gaze fell on the stainless steel basin inside the cell.

"What's this?" she asked.

Of course, she already knew what it was.

What she really wanted to know was why it had been placed there.

Black Widow and Hawkeye both averted their gazes at the same time, pretending not to hear her.

For the next few days, Luke made sure to let them out daily—only to fight him.

Three elite S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, serving as his sparring partners.

A training lineup like this was unheard of.

Through these intense battles, Luke gradually gained a deeper understanding of his strengths and weaknesses.

His strengths? The combat techniques he had learned from DNF were incredibly refined, nearly flawless.

His weaknesses? He lacked versatility.

Because he had never undergone formal training, his moves weren't fluid or well-connected. He could only execute them one at a time, like isolated tricks.

As soon as he went up against true experts, this flaw became glaringly obvious.

He had been racking his brain over how to fix this issue. In the end, he arrived at a simple conclusion:

Money.

So-called martial arts geniuses? That was just a myth.

He had a long way to go before becoming a true fighter.

Black Widow, Hawkeye, and May were all masters of over a dozen different fighting styles.

Luke humbly asked for guidance, identifying his shortcomings and specifically learning how to link his moves together.

After just a few days, his fight times started dropping.

From taking five minutes to defeat all three, he reduced it to four. Then three. Then two.

Finally, he reached the point where he could take them all down in under a minute—without even using his Lion's Roar technique.

Of course, his Brick Strike remained an essential part of his arsenal.

Regardless, his combat skills had improved. That was undeniable.

As the saying went: practice makes perfect.

By combining the various fighting techniques from different DNF classes into a seamless flow, he had achieved the ability to subdue three Black Widows in under a minute.

After all, aside from his problem with move transitions, every skill he had learned from DNF was at a true master level.

Black Widow, Hawkeye, and May had watched his rapid improvement over the past few days with growing shock.

They were all convinced that Luke was an absolute combat genius—his only flaw was the lack of professional training.

If he ever joined S.H.I.E.L.D., he would undoubtedly become one of their top agents.

And not just any agent—one who could build and pilot his own mech.

That was terrifying.

Meanwhile, the construction of the G-0 Warlord hadn't fallen behind.

Luke worked tirelessly, pushing Ross to the limit.

Now he truly understood the value of having an assistant.

There was an old saying: When there's work, let others do it. When there's no work, find something for them to do…

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Tony's research progress was under constant surveillance by Ross.

Luke had to admit—getting Tony to study the Philosopher's Stone for him had been a brilliant move.

Tony's talent spoke for itself.

With J.A.R.V.I.S.'s assistance, Tony's efficiency far exceeded that of entire research institutes with dozens of scientists.

At this point, he had already made several major breakthroughs.

The risks were minimal and the rewards were massive.

Luke had made the right choice.

If he had tried to do the research himself, he would've needed years just to master the intricacies of microscopic physics and chemistry like Tony. By then, the Philosopher's Stone might have disappeared. What would be the point?

Every day, Luke was busy building mechs, refining his combat techniques, and monitoring Tony.

The three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents? He had completely ignored their well-being.

As far as he was concerned, he was treating them quite well.

They got to eat Burger Nina's delicious burgers three times a day, morning, noon, and night.

Even Tony, who was working himself to the bone in the lab, would probably kill for some burgers.

But from the trio's perspective, it was a nightmare.

Their freedom was gone.

They had no way to contact the outside world.

And worst of all, they were forced to be Luke's punching bags every single day.

This was inhumane!

Black Widow finally broke.

She had been imprisoned for 15 days straight.

Her entire world had shrunk to the size of a glass cell.

Oddly enough, getting beaten up by Luke was the only time she could stretch her limbs and get some fresh air.

After all, Hawkeye was usually the one getting beaten the worst.

But what she truly couldn't tolerate—what finally pushed her over the edge—

Was the stainless steel basin.

She refused to share a toilet with the others.

"What do you want?" she finally snapped, glaring at Luke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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