Merci pour la correction ! J'ai noté le changement : c'est l'homme sans yeux (et non le géant) qui se présente comme Mike / Le Chacal. Ça rend le personnage immédiatement plus inquiétant.
Voici la version corrigée et traduite en anglais :
---
PRIVATE RESTAURANT – JIPANGU – CONTINUATION
Mecha Sullivan looked at Captain Man over his tea cup. The wrinkles on his face seemed to deepen with every word.
"The Justice…" Sullivan repeated, as if tasting the name for the first time. "He's the one who taught you the Justice Punch?"
Captain Man shook his head. "No. I went to see him."
Sullivan raised an eyebrow. "You? The symbol of peace? You went to see an African hero?"
"He wasn't a legend yet back then. He was… new. Young. Full of ideals."
Captain Man smiled, but his eyes were elsewhere.
Flashback.
---
A FEW YEARS AGO – UNION HEADQUARTERS – LIBREVILLE
The crowd was dense. People waved flags, banners, portraits. Children perched on their fathers' shoulders.
"CAPTAIN MAN! CAPTAIN MAN! CAPTAIN MAN!"
The procession moved slowly. Captain Man, in costume, smiled, waved, shook hands. He was the symbol of peace. Everywhere he went, crowds cheered him.
But his gaze wasn't on the crowd. It was on the building before him.
The Union headquarters.
He entered. The guards bowed. Employees watched him pass, mouths agape. He climbed the stairs, walked through the corridors, until he reached a massive door.
He knocked.
"Enter."
The room was sober. A desk. A window overlooking the city. And a man.
Young. Very young. Perhaps twenty-five years old. A black loincloth, a red cape. A white mask with closed eyes resting on the table.
The Justice.
He looked up at Captain Man, surprised.
"Captain Man? What are you doing here?"
Captain Man approached the desk, placed his hands on the wood.
"I have a favor to ask you."
The Justice stood, intrigued.
"A favor?"
Captain Man looked him straight in the eyes.
"Hit me. In the stomach. With all your strength."
The Justice stepped back, incredulous.
"I can't do that, sir."
"Why?"
The Justice clenched his fists.
"Because I only use my fists to deliver justice. I don't hit innocent people. I don't hit allies."
Captain Man smiled. A sad smile.
"Then I'll tell you a truth."
He approached The Justice, leaned to his ear, and whispered something.
The Justice's face changed. His gaze darkened. His fists trembled.
"Is… is that true?"
Captain Man stepped back.
"I have never lied once in my life."
He spread his arms.
"So go ahead. Hit me."
The Justice looked at him for a long moment. Then his eyes hardened. His right hand rose. A blinding light enveloped it.
"JUSTICE…"
Captain Man smiled. He didn't move.
"…PUNCH!"
The blow landed.
It struck Captain Man square in the stomach.
The impact was silent. No explosion. No blast. Just a dull, deep sound, like a heartbeat.
Captain Man didn't flinch. He looked at The Justice. Then he looked down at his stomach. Then he looked back up.
"…Not bad."
BAM.
The pain hit him a second later. Like lightning. Like a tidal wave. He fell to his knees, winded, hands on his stomach.
"Argh… how… how is this possible?"
He looked up at The Justice, incredulous.
"I'm indestructible. No one has ever managed to hurt me."
The Justice lowered his fist. His face was serious.
"It's not physical pain, Captain Man. It's… moral pain. My power doesn't strike the body. It strikes the soul."
Captain Man stayed on his knees for a long moment. Then he stood up. Slowly. Painfully.
"That's why I came."
The Justice looked at him, surprised.
"Why?"
Captain Man wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Because I needed to feel pain. To remind myself that I'm human."
He extended his hand.
The Justice shook it.
---
BACK TO THE RESTAURANT
Sullivan set down his cup. His eyes gleamed.
"So that's how you learned the Justice Punch?"
Captain Man nodded.
"I didn't learn his power. No one can learn it. But I saw what it meant to strike with one's faith. And I tried to replicate that."
He looked at his own hands.
"I never reached his level. But I tried. Every day. For years."
Sullivan was silent for a long moment.
"You know what I think, Captain?"
"What?"
"You're stronger than him. Not physically. But in your head. Because you accepted your weakness. He never did."
Captain Man didn't answer.
---
LIBREVILLE – ALLEY NEAR THE HOSPITAL
Wonder was at the peak of his art.
He danced between The Justice's blows, intangible, elusive, smiling like an actor on a stage. His cane twirled. His hat was perfectly adjusted. His gold teeth gleamed.
"You see, old friend, this is class."
The Justice struck again. His hand passed through Wonder.
"You're slow. You're tired. You're finished."
Wonder stopped, placed his cane on his shoulder, and turned to the cameras secretly filming from the windows.
"I'll tell you something, Justice. You know what I hate most about you?"
The Justice panted, the poison burning in his veins.
"It's that you have a daughter."
The Justice froze.
"A little girl. With braids. She goes to school. She plays in the yard. She laughs."
Wonder smiled.
"And when you're dead, I'll take care of her."
The Justice felt something break inside him. Not the poison. Something deeper.
"You…"
"Me?" Wonder spread his arms. "I'm going to show you what real justice is."
He raised his cane.
"THE WONDER…"
He was about to become intangible.
The blow landed.
So fast that no one saw it. Not the cameras. Not the witnesses. Not even Wonder.
A fist. A light. A thunderous sound.
"JUSTICE… PUNCH!"
Wonder felt the impact before he even understood what was happening. His abdomen exploded with pain. His eyes widened. His hat flew off.
He flew through one building. Then a second. Then a third.
He crashed near a beggar, in a stinking alley, clothes in tatters, face bloodied.
The beggar looked at him, then at his gold rings, then at his cane.
"…Thanks, mister."
He stole everything and skipped away.
Wonder lay there, on the ground, defeated.
---
AT THE FIGHT SITE – THE DRAGON
The dragon towered over the city. Its immense wings cast a shadow over the entire district. Its red eyes burned like embers.
Grann looked at it. He analyzed. Every wingbeat. Every scale movement. Every breath.
I must defeat it.
He leaped.
"SUBLIMATION."
His jump was amplified. He rose into the air, carried by his will, until he reached the dragon's height.
He drew back his fist.
Do as he told me. Everything into physical. Push your body to the extreme. Then sublimate it.
His fist shot out. Powerful. Precise.
He was about to strike.
BAM.
Something stopped him.
Angel was in front of him. A wall of Ether cubes. Four layers.
"HE'S MINE! DON'T TOUCH!"
Grann looked at him. His fist had pierced two of the four walls.
Angel's eyes widened.
"My creations are supposed to be indestructible, dammit!"
Grann didn't answer. He fell back to the ground, landed softly, and watched Angel launch himself toward the dragon.
"…He's stronger than he looks," he murmured.
Angel grabbed the dragon's tail. He planted Ether blades – which he teleported directly into its body – like climbing spikes. He climbed. The dragon thrashed, spun, tried to throw him off.
Angel reached the top.
He wrapped his arms around the dragon's throat.
"Come on, come on, pretty baby…"
He squeezed. The dragon roared. It tried to bite him.
BOOM.
A giant hammer. A cartoon hammer, with a wooden handle and an enormous head, appeared in Angel's hands.
"WABAM."
He struck the dragon on the head.
The dragon collapsed. Instantly. Without a sound.
Angel landed softly on its back, wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"And there we go."
The fight was over.
---
IN FRONT OF THE HOSPITAL
The Justice collapsed.
His legs could no longer carry him. The poison flowed through his veins, burning, devouring.
Two figures came running.
Shirel, number 4. A woman with long braided hair, a soft face but hard eyes.
Love Wave, number 5. A calm, silent man, dressed in white.
Shirel crouched down, lifted The Justice as if he weighed nothing.
"Come, my brother."
Love Wave followed them, silent, watching their surroundings.
They brought him back to the hospital.
---
AT THE UNION HEADQUARTERS – THE HEROES
Mokonzi had knocked out Bazzard. The Puppeteer lay at his feet, unconscious.
He was about to leave when an old woman rushed at Angel.
"YOU KILLED MY DRAGON!"
Angel stepped back, surprised.
"Excuse me?"
"MY DRAGON! IT'S A CEREMONY DRAGON! A LEGEND! IT NEVER HURT ANYONE!"
Angel looked at her, then at the inert dragon, then back at the old woman.
"It's a demon, ma'am."
"YES, IT'S A DEMON! BUT A TRADITIONAL DEMON! IT ATTACKED YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE A FOREIGNER WHO GIVES OFF BAD VIBES!"
Angel blinked.
"Me? Bad vibes?"
"YOU! YOUR ENERGY STINKS OF PRETENTION AND DEBAUCHERY!"
Angel opened his mouth to answer, but Mokonzi burst out laughing.
A frank, sincere laugh that shook his massive chest.
Angel looked at him, incredulous.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
Grann, beside him, was smiling.
A real smile.
Mokonzi wiped away a tear.
"No, no… it's just that… you're the first foreign hero to get yelled at by Mamie Mboka."
The old woman jabbed her finger at Angel's chest.
"AND DON'T CALL ME MAMIE MBOKA, YOU ILL-MANNERED BRAT!"
Angel raised his hands in peace.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!"
The old woman sniffed, picked up her dragon (yes, she lifted it like a feather), and walked away grumbling.
Angel turned to Mokonzi.
"Is she always like that?"
"Always."
---
FACETIME CALL
Mokonzi's phone screen lit up.
Lion appeared. Beside him, the President of the Union. A hard-faced woman with gray hair.
"Mokonzi. You have Bazzard?"
Mokonzi showed the unconscious body.
"He's here."
The President nodded.
"Keep him. We don't want him anymore. Let him rot in your prison."
Lion smiled.
"He'll be locked up in BAKUBAKU. The second most secure prison in the world."
Mokonzi ended the call.
---
BAKUBAKU PRISON – HIGH SECURITY CELL
Fifteen doors. Fifteen locks. Fifteen security levels.
Bazzard, in an orange uniform, was pushed into his cell.
He looked around.
Four figures.
A blond guy, completely crazy, banging his head against the wall. BAM. BAM. BAM.
A woman, skin and bones, lying on the floor, seemingly dying.
An enormous guy, too big for the building – at least twenty meters tall, curled up in a corner.
And a shirtless man, covered in scars, his face strangely empty. No eyes. Just a nose and a mouth.
Bazzard sat on the bunk.
"What's your name, new guy?" asked the eyeless man.
Bazzard looked at him.
"Bazzard."
The eyeless man smiled.
"I'm Mike. But you can call me… The Jackal."
---
MIDAS'S ROOM – GAMBLING AGENCY HEADQUARTERS
Midas sat in his office of gold and marble. Facing him, a man.
Tall. Spiky hair, like a hedgehog. Pointed teeth, like a shark.
Sharky. His right-hand man.
"So, Midas, when do we launch the operation?"
Midas stood, approached the window.
"Not now. We need to finalize the construction of the Gambling Agency's headquarters."
He pointed to the buildings under construction in the distance.
"This district that we bought thanks to our contract with the Association will be totally in our image."
Sharky crossed his arms.
"But we need info. If we want to overthrow the Association…"
"I know."
Midas turned to him.
"And that's why I called someone."
Sharky raised an eyebrow.
"Who?"
Midas smiled.
"The one who stole info from Vladimir."
The door opened.
Masajo entered, scratching his ear, looking tired.
"Fuck, it's hot in your mansion."
---
TO BE CONTINUED…