Marvel: Emotion Farming System

Bonus Chapter at 2.5k stones.

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"Is this part of your security detail?"

At this moment, Harry understood that he had barely scratched the surface of this guy’s prowess.

"N-No," Harry answered while studying the gas mask. No one like this was on his payroll.

"Then duck."

Harry instinctively ducked at his words as John threw the man like a rag doll.

The unconscious man slammed into the body of his colleague, who had just jumped onto the balcony, trying to point his rifle at Harry. The marble balusters cracked as they crashed into the railing.

’My gun...’ The second man tried to grasp at the flying AK, but a foot slammed into his stomach. His ribs cracked with a sharp snap.

It was like a battering ram had hit him. The armour that could protect against bullets and knives did little to soften the blow.

’There are more of them.’ John turned away from the two unconscious fellows at his feet with a slight frown.

Why was there an attack every time he went out? Was he cursed?

Regardless, John removed the two gas masks from the fallen, supposed terrorists, and handed one to Harry.

"Tell Colleen to watch the front door. And tell her to get a Gas mask as well." He walked into the hall, his eyes on the vents expertly hidden in the room to keep the place at just the right temperature.

Even if the party was going in full swing, with alcohol in the mix, John could feel the oncoming threats with the presence-sensing ability of Observation Haki. Thankfully, Colleen had also hit a couple of terrorists below, ambushing them after getting the info from Harry.

"John..." Susan had been waiting for him near the balcony; that was a good thing.

"Wear this." He handed her the gas mask.

Even with little to no explanation, she wore the mask like it was the most natural thing. But her eyes were focused on his expression.

It was the same look he had that day at ESU. No, in a way it was more intense. It was like he was enjoying whatever was happening.

Previously, when girls her age said that they liked more masculine and assertive types, Susan always disagreed in her mind. She had always believed that she was into the intellectual types, men like Richard, who was her first crush a couple of years ago.

However, John was currently making her question everything about her preferences in men.

’About ten of them are approaching, and twenty others are taking position farther away. There is even a getaway vehicle in the south.’ He stepped down the wide staircase, unbuttoning his suit.

As he approached the first floor, a green mist poured out of the vents as Harry and Susan followed after him. He hung his jacket on the hands of a marble statue and stretched his arms a little.

On the ground floor, Colleen, along with other security guards, had made quick work of the first wave of intruders. The former had no injuries. But the latter group had a few who needed medical attention because of bullet and knife wounds.

"That was a nice catch. Wanna work with me next time?" She smiled at him, tapping the sheathed katana against her shoulder.

"I am not really built for protection." John already had enough on his plate.

’This is beyond a normal terrorist group, or that knock-off Fight Club.’ John wordlessly examined the gathered pile of armed men that numbered twelve.

The green mist hissed out of the vent. Pouring over everyone like a languid waterfall. In a few seconds, it had covered the floor as more kept pouring out, blocking the windows too.

The security guards who were unable to get their gas masks on in time fell to the floor like dominoes.

John took a sniff of the smoke with an amused expression. Probably a more potent version of the thing Kraven had used on him.

However, he didn’t care for the gas one bit. John’s eyes were set beyond the hall, peering out of the tall, open doors.

He could hear someone approaching. But the sound of footsteps felt off. Their body shape kept flickering in and out of his vision for some reason.

And in the next instant something sliced through the green mist.

’A circular shield?’ John ducked low, pulling Susan with him.

The shield zipped over him and hit the pillar behind him. Instead of stopping, it bounced off and struck through the security like they were bowling pins. And then it returned the way it came as Colleen barely dodged it while saving Harry.

A green arm caught the shield and placed it on its right arm. John watched the silhouette walk out of the mist and stand before him as he helped Susan to her feet.

"Behind the reception desk." He told her.

"O-Ok." Susan ran as fast as she could in her heels and reached the reception desk, finding Harry already there.

With her heart drumming against her ribs, she peeked over the marble ledge to see John square off against Captain America.

Why was Captain America here? Susan could care less.

However, John was different.

The face, the helmet, the costume, even the build. Everything screamed Captain America. But this thing was all green, aside from the all-blacked-out shield on his wrist and the white core blinking at its chest.

"A new threat registered... Assessment complete... Asking Permission for Max level... Permission Granted..."

Even the voice sounded like Steve Rogers, if he spoke through a free voice changer.

It was no doubt the Super-Adaptoid that he knew of from the comics.

Still, why was AIM’s property squaring off against him at Harry Osborn’s party?

John had no idea. But watching this thing charge at him, he was sure of one thing.

’I might really be cursed.’ He wiped his manly tears while facing his opponent.

Because the Hanma bloodline never ducked any fades.

***

In Oscorp Tower, Manhattan, Norman leaned back into his chair inside the CEO’s office. Or what used to be the CEO’s office.

Every shelf, every limited-edition book, each famous painting, and even the bloodied cashmere carpet on the floor. He had collected them one by one to create his own sanctuary, his own home.

However, it didn’t feel like that now. He stared at the book on the desk. It had arrived this morning.

Pluto. A new work by the writer of Fight Club.

Alongside the scent of freshly made espresso, there was a metallic taste flying in the air. Norman didn’t mind that and took a sip from his cup, looking at the man seated across his desk with a polite smile.

He cared not for the faint breathing of this man, nor his bloody, tied hands. And he certainly didn’t care if this guy could see through that black blindfold or not.

"Robots gaining human emotions and living alongside Humanity, it is quite the setting, isn’t it?" Norman glanced at the book and then at Mendel Stormm, who was barely kept alive.

But he would be dying pretty soon with the amount of blood he had lost from those pulled nails, molars, sliced ears, and the torn nose. All neatly arranged on Norman’s desk as he continued like it was the usual Tuesday.

"It is a noble vision, but something like that isn’t possible. No matter how many lines of code you cram into a machine, even if you give it all possible knowledge, it can’t match a human when it comes to adaptation." Norman placed the cup on the desk with a soft clink.

"Humans are the only race that has truly understood and mastered the art of adaptation. We were born on a planet that tried everything to kill us. Apex predators, harsh climate, famines, natural disasters, and the works. However, humans adapted and survived everything. Now we are the ones killing this planet as the ultimate apex predators."

"Doesn’t this situation sound familiar to you, Mendel?" Norman stood up with poise, fixing the cuffs of his three-piece suit.

Mendel Stormm had been his partner since the start of Oscorp. Norman thought they were on good terms, that they were coexisting well.

"Why did you sell me out, Mendel? Why?" He stopped beside his long-time partner, his former professor. "Why did you betray me for AIM when I was the one who noticed your potential? When I gave you a stage and half my spotlight?"

It took Norman a few days and a couple of board members to understand who truly ousted him. AIM. That was the name of this supposed group that had infiltrated Oscorp through fronts like Cadence Industries and Adarco Corporation.

Their eyes had been on Oscorp’s chemical and genetic research for a while, and the one who opened the doors for them was none other than his trusted partner, Mendel Stormm.

"I didn’t sell you out, Norman... You made me do it. You worked me to the bone... and then snubbed me when I started to gain support. You have always been a self-absorbed piece of shit." Mendel could barely speak through the slit lips; his tongue sat heavy in the bloody mouth. "Even now, when you know that your son’s life might be in danger, you enjoyed your time torturing me. Not that you could do anything if you went there either."

"Do you really think that I would leave my son unprotected?" Norman scoffed, buttoning his suit. "AIM isn’t the only one who can afford world-class mercenaries, you know?"

"What if it isn’t world-class mercenaries?" Mendel turned to Norman with a bloody smile. "Today you will learn the students stand no chance in front of their teacher."

The coughs and blood-curdling chuckles echoed in the silent room as Mendel trembled in his chair. It wasn’t fear, but excitement.

"We will have what we want, Oscorp, Hammer, Iron Man, and even that damned spiderwo—!"

Before Mendel could finish, Norman yanked his head back. He placed a metal pen on the table with his left hand and slammed Mendel’s temple on it.

The metal pen pierced into the temporal bone. It jammed right into the brain as the skull cracked against the ash table with a sickening crunch.

Watching his spasming teacher, Norman only had one thing to say.

"You always had this annoying habit of rambling, even during your lectures back in Uni."

Norman dialled a number on his phone and pressed it against his ear. It was answered before the first ring even went through fully.

"Your orders, sir?" A sharp voice came from the other side.

"Deploy Nuke." It was time to put the weapon he had just acquired to good use.

...

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