"What is Superman looking at?"
The reporters below had captured Karl hovering in the air. They were puzzled—why was he staring up at the sky?
Because of the surrounding buildings blocking their view, none of them could see the nuclear missile approaching from that direction.
"Is he waiting for something?"
The reporters murmured among themselves.
Being able to see Superman up close filled them with excitement.
Superman was widely recognized as the strongest hero. At the same time, he was also the rarest to appear—hardly anyone ever managed to capture a clear photo of him.
Most images of Superman dated back to the Battle of New York three and a half years ago. Otherwise, his existence lived mostly through word of mouth.
It was nearly impossible to photograph him. He moved too fast—before you could even take out your phone, he was already gone.
"Quick, evacuate the crowd! How many people can you move?"
"Faster!"
The reporters, who had just been chatting downstairs, suddenly heard someone shouting.
"What's going on?"
"Did something happen?"
…
"Evacuate now! A missile is coming!"
"Wha—?!"
Chaos erupted instantly.
Many reporters abandoned their equipment and ran for their lives.
Shouts overlapped, panic spread everywhere.
"Don't push me—move aside!!"
"I don't want to die!!"
…
Of course, not everyone fled.
Those who stayed behind looked up at Karl in the sky. They believed Superman would save them. After all, he remained hovering there, showing no intention of leaving. Besides, even if they ran now, they wouldn't get far.
"Everyone, look!"
A sudden shout stopped those still trying to escape.
All eyes turned to the sky.
"What if he can't stop it?"
Inside the conference room, T'Challa sat by the window, watching Karl outside as he asked Natasha.
Natasha ran a hand through her hair and smiled slightly. "Then none of us are getting out of this."
King T'Chaka slowed his steps and said gently, "My son, you need to learn to trust others. You may not like diplomacy, but you've done well this time. There are many things you must try—you'll discover a different world."
T'Challa smiled at his father. "I will."
The three of them looked out the window together. The missile had already entered their field of vision.
Even so, the sight made them uneasy.
After all, they were entrusting their lives to someone else. Whether they lived or died now depended entirely on Karl.
And as a weapon of immense destructive power, a nuclear missile had long left a deep imprint of fear in everyone's mind.
Karl took a step forward.
In the next instant, he appeared beside the missile.
Like plucking something mid-flight, he grabbed the high-speed nuclear warhead with one hand.
Then, under the horrified gaze of everyone watching, Karl struck the rear jet compartment with a single chop, smashing it apart.
The three-meter-long missile instantly lost its propulsion. However, nuclear warheads didn't detonate upon impact—they operated on timed triggers.
Karl gripped the missile like a javelin—
—and hurled it straight into the sky.
In an instant, the missile broke the sound barrier. A circular shockwave cloud formed in the sky, and the missile vanished beyond sight.
Everyone below stood frozen.
Then—
"Waaah…!"
"We're not going to die!"
"Superman saved us!"
"Superman, I love you!!"
"Who the hell launched that missile?!"
…
Cheers erupted.
This was the happiest moment of their lives.
"Like I said—it's nothing to him," Natasha said with a relieved smile toward T'Challa and his father.
For most people present, this was the first time witnessing Superman's power firsthand. T'Challa, however, had now seen it twice.
He didn't know what to say.
Karl had just handled a nuclear missile as casually as throwing away trash. There hadn't been a trace of tension on his face.
Karl glanced at the cheering reporters below, then at the politicians who had failed to evacuate.
"Don't think you can deal with me using human means. Remember this. Next time…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
But everyone understood.
The meeting was no longer meaningless.
Originally intended to oppose Karl, it had now completely lost its purpose after the appearance of the nuclear missile.
Karl left.
But the representatives of various nations remained. Back in the conference room, the meeting resumed.
Now, they discussed Karl's power.
They discussed which country had launched the missile.
They discussed forming alliances to counter him.
After what had just happened, fear filled every representative present.
They no longer felt in control of the world.
Not when someone like Karl existed.
"We need to develop stronger weapons—not to defeat Superman, but to restrain him."
Others nodded in agreement.
"This is only a fraction of his power. In the Battle of New York, he displayed even stronger abilities."
Silence fell.
No one knew what kind of force could possibly suppress him.
"Does he… have any weakness?"
That question lingered in everyone's mind.
They believed everything must have a weakness.
"We need to form a dedicated team to study how to deal with Superman."
In the end, several major nations proposed it.
"I agree."
"I agree."
…
Aside from a few smaller countries, most agreed.
Not necessarily because they shared the same view, but because many depended on larger nations.
King T'Chaka withdrew Wakanda from the meeting.
They had originally come to discuss a global agreement—and to explain matters to Nigeria.
But now, even if agreements were signed, they were meaningless.
Who could restrain Superman?
No one dared.
No one could.
After leaving Vienna, Karl did not return to Kamar-Taj.
He had discovered something… something familiar.
After arriving in Japan, he descended.
It was a small village, surrounded by low, modest houses.
Karl paid no attention to that.
His gaze fell on two corpses before him.
Two more bodies.
Just like the ones he had found in New York.
Same cause of death.
Karl stepped forward, skillfully cutting open the abdomen and retrieving a stone from inside.
Holding the stone, he scanned the surroundings, frowning.
Then he walked into the village—step by step, like an ordinary person.
It was late at night.
The village was silent.
No animals could be heard.
Karl approached the nearest house and pushed the door open.
A strong stench of blood hit him instantly.
Inside, it was completely dark—no light at all.
Passing through the entrance, he stepped into the main hall.
It was horrific.
There were six bodies in the living room.
Two children. Two middle-aged adults. Two elderly.
Their deaths were identical to the others.
Eyeballs gouged out.
Bones shattered in multiple places.
Joints dislocated.
And their abdomens—grotesquely swollen.
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