The towering Optimus Prime mecha landed steadily on the reinforced platform outside the science lab, its gleaming armor still marred by the black blood of the slain bull monster. The moment the cockpit hissed open, a wave of applause erupted.
A crowd had gathered—scientists in white coats, armed guards, and curious civilians who had come to witness the pilot of this legendary machine with their own eyes. Drones hovered overhead, transmitting every second of this historic moment across the city.
Ethan stepped down first, his expression calm as ever. Rose followed behind him, her cheeks flushed with adrenaline. The lead researcher, Dr. Morrow, hurried forward, practically beaming.
"Young Master Hunt," he began, his voice trembling with excitement, "that was...extraordinary. We never imagined the Nova Sentinel could display such agility and power. You’ve proven this project has a future."
Another scientist chimed in eagerly, "The data we recorded will advance our research by years. Your performance today will inspire countless others."
Ryder stood a little ways off, arms crossed, smirking faintly. "You’ve caused quite a stir you little rascal. You always do."
Ethan inclined his head in acknowledgment and smiled. He glanced at the assembled team, then turned his gaze back to the colossal machine he had piloted so effortlessly.
"I want to learn," he said simply.
Dr. Morrow blinked. "Learn?"
Ethan gestured at the mecha. "Everything about this. Its internal systems. The robotics. The manufacturing process. All of it."
For a few seconds, silence hung in the air. Then, as if remembering something important, Dr. Morrow nodded quickly.
"Of course. The Alliance has standing instructions that you are to be prioritized in all matters. Sharing our data is no issue—especially since the Nova Sentinel is still in early development. If you wish to study it, you’re welcome."
The other scientists nodded in agreement, some with relief, others with open awe.
"We’ll prepare all schematics, manuals, and research records," Dr. Morrow said. "If you have any specific questions, we will answer them without reservation."
Ethan’s eyes gleamed faintly. He didn’t reply further. His interest was genuine—not idle curiosity. If he could invent something that civilians could use without risking neural collapse, it could reshape humanity’s future.
Later that afternoon, Ethan returned to the Hunt residence.
He found Alexander in the study, surrounded by holographic reports. As he looked up, Alexander exhaled.
"I saw the broadcast," he said. "You did well. If ordinary humans could use machines like that, it really would be a game changer."
Ethan nodded. Without hesitation, he got straight to the point.
"Grandpa, I want you to build me a private science lab."
Alexander almost dropped the tablet in his hand. "A lab?"
"Yes," Ethan said evenly. "Fully equipped, with everything necessary for robotics research and genetic studies. I also want researchers assigned to it."
For a moment, Alexander only stared. It was not a request he’d ever expected from his great-grandson. Ethan had always been a monster in martial cultivation, but now he wanted to reach into a field reserved for scientists who’d spent decades in study.
But then Alexander’s expression softened.
"Fine," Alexander sighed. "Consider it done. You’ll have your lab in two days. I’ll order the materials and personnel now."
Ethan nodded, satisfied. Without another word, he turned and left the study.
Alexander watched him go, an incredulous smile tugging at his lips.
What is this boy planning? he wondered helplessly. Well...he’s too fast in cultivation for me to nag him to be hardworking or not to lack off.
That evening, the science lab delivered a trove of data drives, schematics, and thick printed manuals. Ethan stacked them methodically in his training hall. He didn’t waste a single minute.
He sat cross-legged among the manuals and began reading. For a full day and night, he did not move an inch.
Over the next twenty-four hours, Ethan absorbed an ocean of knowledge.
He learned that the Nova Sentinel was built around a modular exoskeletal chassis, engineered to withstand pressures strong enough to resist the bites of even Level 9 King-class monsters. Its power source combined ultra-dense hydrogen fuel cells with a compact gravity stabilizer core capable of supplying uninterrupted energy for more than two months of operation.
He read all the details—every layer of plating, every actuator joint, every protocol.
Yet, after finishing every last document, Ethan came to a sobering conclusion:
Even if the mecha were perfectly manufactured—even if ordinary humans could be trained to pilot it—the immense mental toll would cripple them within five years. If nothing went wrong, the pilot would still have to retire early, permanently damaged by severe neurodegenerative disease.
That’s not evolution, Ethan thought grimly. That’s desperation.
He rubbed his eyes, letting the reality settle. The mecha system, at least in its current form, was simply not feasible in the time humanity had left.
And humanity didn’t have time.
He could wipe out the monsters himself in a matter of days—but that would only make everyone more dependent on him. They would stop advancing, content to rely on one protector.
If the cosmic civilizations who left behind those realms and ruins ever came to Earth...they would stare at humanity like lambs waiting for slaughter.
And Ethan would leave Earth sooner or later. He had no illusions about that.
They need to be able to fight themselves.
And he needed capable subjects to rule when the time came to build his dominion.
Then what can I do? he wondered, closing his eyes.
How about...a suit? Like Iron Man—a single man can operate it. Something that can evolve over time.
A slow smile spread across his face.
Okay then. We’ll think about the suit.
Even normal humans would be able to fight martial artists. With the resources he possessed—far beyond anything Tony Stark ever had—he could create something perfect from the very beginning.
He just needed to keep reading, learning, refining.
He imagined forging an exoskeleton with his metal creation abilities—pouring cosmic force and elemental power into the core to drive it. A union of science and martial arts, something entirely new.
And with his supercomputer-like brain, it wouldn’t take long to design.
One day, Ethan thought, a martial warrior wearing this suit could fight Grandmasters...or Kings.
He glanced at his timer.
[48 Days Remaining]
He sighed.
Okay. I don’t have enough time. I’ll need to enter the secret realm soon, and I don’t know how long that will take.
He set the manuals aside and conjured his spiritual sword.
He was at Level 7 of the Extinction Technique now. He intended to reach Level 10 before meeting the Vice President and President.
For sixteen hours straight, he practiced every stance, every slash.
[Ding! You have reached Level 9.]
Only one more level remained. But when he tried to initiate the comprehension process, nothing happened. The system’s notification was blunt:
Only Planetary Realm cultivators can comprehend Level 10.
He clenched his jaw.
Damn. I really do need to step into that realm fast.
During these two days, his status panel had updated twice:
[Master: Ethan Hunt
Physique: 726.16 million
Spirit: 726.16 million
Talent: Infinite Comprehension]
His Level 9 Extinction Sword Technique gave him a 30x amplification. His Level 9 Sword Intent added another 12x.
Combined, the multipliers totaled a staggering 360x amplification.
His total combat power had reached 261.418 billion tonnes.
He studied the numbers calmly.
Alright. I’m ready to face anything now.
Even if Dragon turned out to be a villain—and Ethan doubted that, given how stable the Martial Alliance was—he still had contingencies. If Dragon was stronger than anticipated, he could always retreat and hide for a few days before counterattacking.
Ethan believed in preparation above all.
If Dragon were truly evil, the Martial Alliance wouldn’t have lasted this long.
He exhaled again, feeling the last of his hesitation fade.
Time to meet them.
[47 Days Remaining]
He drove a car to the Martial Alliance headquarters.
This was the first time he had come here in person.
The moment he entered the building, Leon was notified.
A high-ranking officer—a Level 9 King—approached Ethan with a respectful demeanor.
"Young Master Hunt, do you need something?"
Ethan looked the man over. He was stronger than Charles by a considerable margin.
"I’d like to meet the Vice President," Ethan said evenly. "Is he available?"
The officer nodded quickly. "He is. Allow me to take you to him."
"Thank you."
"Ah—it’s a small matter. Please don’t mention it."
Even as a Level 9 King, the man knew well that the youth before him was the most talented person alive. It would be foolish to show anything but respect.
They walked to a large door. As they neared, it slid open automatically.
Ethan stepped inside.
Leon was standing by the wide window, sunlight streaming across his shoulders. He looked over and smirked.
"Look who came to visit our humble abode," he said, his tone teasing.
Ethan laughed. "Don’t mention it, Vice President. It wasn’t much trouble. You don’t have to be so grateful."
Leon’s mouth twitched. "What a shameless bastard."
Ethan’s expression turned serious. "Vice President, I need to talk to you."
Leon waved a hand, and the officer quietly left the room.
He faced Ethan directly. "Alright. What do you want to say?"
Ethan didn’t answer. Instead, he began to rise from the ground—slowly, impossibly—until he was hovering freely in the air.
Not standing on anything. Not supported by hidden force. Simply...floating, as though gravity itself had surrendered to him.
The room fell utterly silent.
Leon stared at him like a man who had just lost his soul.
Then, without a word, Leon pulled out a special communicator and spoke a single sentence:
"He crossed the threshold."
Ethan didn’t need to ask who he meant.
Exactly one minute later, a cataclysmic pressure erupted from deep within the building, locking onto Ethan like a predator.
It felt like the air itself was trying to crush him into paste.
Though Ethan’s combat value was astronomical when using his amplifications, his base stats were still beneath Leon’s—and far beneath the one approaching now.
But Ethan remained still, his mental domain already spread in every direction. He felt a colossal life force brushing against his mind, carrying an oppressive weight that exceeded four billion tonnes.
So, Ethan thought, here comes the strongest man on the planet. The legend himself...the defender of humanity...Dragon.
With a whoosh of displaced air, a man appeared before him.
He wore black clothes embroidered with a single red dragon. His eyes were calm, assessing.
He stood a full two meters tall, with a perfectly proportioned body—powerful without being bulky. His face was impossibly handsome. Perhaps not quite on Ethan’s level, Ethan noted with a faint flicker of narcissism, but close enough to be second.
A mind calculation told him Dragon had a 140x amplification.
With a four billion tonnes base strength, that brought his total power to 560 billion tonnes. Nearly double Ethan’s current combat value.
Still, Ethan was not helpless.
His spiritual force was unmatched on the planet. Even Dragon couldn’t suppress him fully.
If he attacks me now, Ethan thought, I’ll unleash everything instantly. No chance for him to activate any soul talent.
But the man in front of him simply smiled. The pressure vanished like air.
The smile was warm, full of relief and quiet satisfaction.
"Hello, Ethan," he said, voice calm. "It’s nice to meet you. I am Dragon. This is our first meeting. I should have brought a gift, but your sudden news didn’t give me time to think. Sorry."
Ethan was momentarily stunned. This man was unexpectedly easy to talk to.
He relaxed the tension in his shoulders.
He really doesn’t seem like the type to attack unprovoked.
Ethan smiled back.
"Hello, Mr. President. It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Ethan Hunt."