Once failing might be a malfunction.
That was how the Grandmaster comforted himself.
He pulled the Disintegration Staff back slightly—like resetting a save point—and jabbed it into Leon's chest again.
Clang.
Nothing.
He forced a smile. "I have never misfired before. These two times must be… anomalies."
Behind Leon, the spirit-form of Aionsega, the War God Shield, rested protectively against the Courage Shield, silently observing the spectacle.
Leon said nothing.
The Grandmaster, flustered, suddenly spun and tapped the staff against a fully armored guard.
Instant liquefaction.
The soldier dissolved into steaming slurry.
"There!" the Grandmaster declared triumphantly. "It works perfectly!"
The remaining guards didn't even flinch.
The staff hummed normally.
Which made it worse.
The Grandmaster turned back to Leon.
Another strike.
Clang.
Still nothing.
Leon offered him a sympathetic smile.
"Performance anxiety happens. Maybe try again next life."
The air split.
YoRHa Unit 2B materialized beside Leon and seized the Disintegration Staff from the Grandmaster's hand.
The guards reacted—
Too slow.
"Holy Spear—Unseal."
In close-combat mode, a forty-nine-meter beam blade carved across the hall in a single sweep.
Silence followed.
Bodies separated cleanly at the waist.
Structural pillars collapsed.
The palace tilted.
Through falling debris and cascading stone, Leon remained seated, hands resting calmly on the armrests. The restraints had already retracted.
"2B."
At his command, she shifted to ranged configuration.
A single blast cleared the collapsing ceiling above them. Even the clouds parted under the shockwave, sunlight spilling down onto Leon's faint smile.
"Now," Leon said, taking the staff from 2B, "it is my turn to pardon you."
Telekinesis seized the Grandmaster mid-retreat and dragged him forward.
"No no no no—!"
He flailed dramatically in midair, even attempting an awkward backward swim.
It didn't help.
The golden sphere touched him.
The Grandmaster dissolved instantly into a puddle of viscous residue.
His final words:
"Oh~ I'm melting~"
Sakaar Falls
Someone screamed, "The Grandmaster is dead!"
Chaos erupted.
Topaz attempted to flee.
Leon closed his fist.
She compressed into a crimson smear.
A rebel raised a blaster—
The weapon transformed mid-aim and fired into its owner instead.
Panic died quickly.
Across Sakaar, Leon's newly awakened Cybertronian forces activated.
Countless minor machines—drones, vehicles, infrastructure nodes—shifted into autonomous forms.
Sheer numbers overwhelmed resistance.
The Grandmaster's elite fighter squadron transformed as well. Lacking inspiration, Leon simply designated the lead unit Megatron, its wingman Starscream, and left the rest unnamed.
Within hours—
Sakaar belonged to him.
Mahjong Among Ruins
With nothing left to conquer, Leon, Tony, Thor, and Loki gathered beside what remained of the Grandmaster and set up a table.
Mahjong tiles forged from adamantium.
Table and chairs constructed of vibranium.
One rule:
No powers.
No precognition.
No manipulation.
Only luck.
"Hu!"
"Hu again!"
"Again!"
Loki won.
And won.
And kept winning.
Leon monitored him the entire time.
No illusions.
No magic.
No sleight of hand.
Pure, outrageous luck.
"Strip," Loki ordered smugly.
They weren't gambling money.
They were gambling dignity.
Soon, Leon, Tony, and Thor were down to their last layer.
Tony leaned toward Leon. "You sure he's not cheating?"
Leon sighed. "If anyone were cheating, it would be me."
Thor grinned and complied first.
Tony followed.
Leon rose last.
As he unsealed his "weapon," Loki's smirk faltered.
The atmosphere shifted dramatically.
Regret bloomed.
Before matters escalated further, Megatron descended in fighter configuration.
"Creator. Sakaar has been fully secured."
Leon snapped his fingers, instantly changing attire. The Disintegration Staff spun idly in his hand.
He looked toward the inverted crimson vortex hanging in the sky.
The System interface appeared.
[Daily Sign-In available. Proceed?]
"Let's hope it's not junk this time," Leon muttered.
[Sign-In Complete.]
[Reward Acquired: Cursed Mask.]
Cursed Mask
Once worn, cannot be voluntarily removed.
Indestructible while worn.
Can only be removed at the moment of imminent death.
Upon removal, it shatters and disappears.
Description:
There is no turning back until death arrives.
Leon's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Interesting."
The Sakaar sign-ins had been mediocre overall—but acquiring the Disintegration Staff alone justified the trip.
Even Thanos would not survive a direct strike from it.
Without the combined absolute defenses of the War God Shield and Courage Shield, Leon himself would not risk tanking it either.
Some artifacts simply did not obey logic.
Chapter 187 – Overrunning Sakaar & the "Cursed Mask"
…
Once failing might be a malfunction.
That was how the Grandmaster comforted himself.
He pulled the Disintegration Staff back slightly—like resetting a save point—and jabbed it into Leon's chest again.
Clang.
Nothing.
He forced a smile. "I have never misfired before. These two times must be… anomalies."
Behind Leon, the spirit-form of Aionsega, the War God Shield, rested protectively against the Courage Shield, silently observing the spectacle.
Leon said nothing.
The Grandmaster, flustered, suddenly spun and tapped the staff against a fully armored guard.
Instant liquefaction.
The soldier dissolved into steaming slurry.
"There!" the Grandmaster declared triumphantly. "It works perfectly!"
The remaining guards didn't even flinch.
The staff hummed normally.
Which made it worse.
The Grandmaster turned back to Leon.
Another strike.
Clang.
Still nothing.
Leon offered him a sympathetic smile.
"Performance anxiety happens. Maybe try again next life."
The air split.
YoRHa Unit 2B materialized beside Leon and seized the Disintegration Staff from the Grandmaster's hand.
The guards reacted—
Too slow.
"Holy Spear—Unseal."
In close-combat mode, a forty-nine-meter beam blade carved across the hall in a single sweep.
Silence followed.
Bodies separated cleanly at the waist.
Structural pillars collapsed.
The palace tilted.
Through falling debris and cascading stone, Leon remained seated, hands resting calmly on the armrests. The restraints had already retracted.
"2B."
At his command, she shifted to ranged configuration.
A single blast cleared the collapsing ceiling above them. Even the clouds parted under the shockwave, sunlight spilling down onto Leon's faint smile.
"Now," Leon said, taking the staff from 2B, "it is my turn to pardon you."
Telekinesis seized the Grandmaster mid-retreat and dragged him forward.
"No no no no—!"
He flailed dramatically in midair, even attempting an awkward backward swim.
It didn't help.
The golden sphere touched him.
The Grandmaster dissolved instantly into a puddle of viscous residue.
His final words:
"Oh~ I'm melting~"
Sakaar Falls
Someone screamed, "The Grandmaster is dead!"
Chaos erupted.
Topaz attempted to flee.
Leon closed his fist.
She compressed into a crimson smear.
A rebel raised a blaster—
The weapon transformed mid-aim and fired into its owner instead.
Panic died quickly.
Across Sakaar, Leon's newly awakened Cybertronian forces activated.
Countless minor machines—drones, vehicles, infrastructure nodes—shifted into autonomous forms.
Sheer numbers overwhelmed resistance.
The Grandmaster's elite fighter squadron transformed as well. Lacking inspiration, Leon simply designated the lead unit Megatron, its wingman Starscream, and left the rest unnamed.
Within hours—
Sakaar belonged to him.
Mahjong Among Ruins
With nothing left to conquer, Leon, Tony, Thor, and Loki gathered beside what remained of the Grandmaster and set up a table.
Mahjong tiles forged from adamantium.
Table and chairs constructed of vibranium.
One rule:
No powers.
No precognition.
No manipulation.
Only luck.
"Hu!"
"Hu again!"
"Again!"
Loki won.
And won.
And kept winning.
Leon monitored him the entire time.
No illusions.
No magic.
No sleight of hand.
Pure, outrageous luck.
"Strip," Loki ordered smugly.
They weren't gambling money.
They were gambling dignity.
Soon, Leon, Tony, and Thor were down to their last layer.
Tony leaned toward Leon. "You sure he's not cheating?"
Leon sighed. "If anyone were cheating, it would be me."
Thor grinned and complied first.
Tony followed.
Leon rose last.
As he unsealed his "weapon," Loki's smirk faltered.
The atmosphere shifted dramatically.
Regret bloomed.
Before matters escalated further, Megatron descended in fighter configuration.
"Creator. Sakaar has been fully secured."
Leon snapped his fingers, instantly changing attire. The Disintegration Staff spun idly in his hand.
He looked toward the inverted crimson vortex hanging in the sky.
The System interface appeared.
[Daily Sign-In available. Proceed?]
"Let's hope it's not junk this time," Leon muttered.
[Sign-In Complete.]
[Reward Acquired: Cursed Mask.]
Cursed Mask
Once worn, cannot be voluntarily removed.
Indestructible while worn.
Can only be removed at the moment of imminent death.
Upon removal, it shatters and disappears.
Description:
There is no turning back until death arrives.
Leon's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Interesting."
The Sakaar sign-ins had been mediocre overall—but acquiring the Disintegration Staff alone justified the trip.
Even Thanos would not survive a direct strike from it.
Without the combined absolute defenses of the War God Shield and Courage Shield, Leon himself would not risk tanking it either.
Some artifacts simply did not obey logic.
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