Inside the factory, Noah stood on a reinforced platform, arms extended.
Four thousand tons of weight pressed down on him.
The metal beneath his feet groaned. His muscles strained, tendons tightening like drawn cables. For a moment, it looked like his arms might tear apart under the pressure.
But they didn't.
Slowly, steadily, he lifted.
A faint crackling sound echoed through the air—not from the machinery, but from his body itself. Electricity danced across his skin, flickering in sharp arcs as if his cells were being pushed to their limit and rebuilt at the same time.
The gains are accelerating.
Noah exhaled slowly, ignoring the pain.
His base strength had already reached a new threshold, and the additional boost layered on top of it was multiplying everything. What once took days to improve now shifted within hours.
Yesterday, his limit had been just over three thousand tons.
Today, it had crossed four.
At this rate, the curve wasn't just rising—it was steepening.
This system… it's getting out of hand.
For a moment, his thoughts flickered to the Interdimensional Chatroom—the tool that had once felt like his greatest advantage.
Now?
It was starting to feel secondary.
A soft chime echoed through the facility.
Someone was at the door.
"I'll get it," Smith said, glancing toward Rogue. "Probably the delivery."
He made his way to the entrance and pulled open the heavy steel doors.
Standing outside was a woman—poised, composed, dressed sharply.
Smith blinked.
Delivery service stepped up their game, huh.
"You're here from Doom Industries?" he asked. "Just hand over the materials and you're good."
Susan frowned slightly.
"Materials? I'm here to teach."
Smith paused.
"…Teach?"
A beat.
"You're from Doom Industries, right? And Wilson gave you this address?"
Susan nodded.
"Then come in."
The doors shut behind her with a heavy clang.
For a brief second, unease flickered across her face—but she followed.
They passed through a long corridor before entering a control area filled with technicians monitoring data.
Beyond them—
A massive reinforced glass wall.
On the other side, Noah stood alone.
Susan's breath caught.
…Wow.
He stood under harsh lighting, his body outlined in sharp definition—muscle layered over muscle, every movement precise and controlled. Electricity crawled across his skin, flashing in intermittent bursts that made him look almost unreal.
And—
He wasn't wearing anything.
Does he seriously train like that?
She forced her expression to stay neutral.
"Mr. Vale's in the middle of training," Smith said. "He'll be done in about three hours. You can wait here."
On the other side of the glass, Noah had already noticed her.
Susan?
That wasn't what he expected.
He'd asked for materials.
Instead, Kingpin had sent her.
…That man really knows how to take initiative.
Noah didn't stop training.
Clothes wouldn't survive what he was doing anyway. The electrical output alone would shred anything normal in seconds.
Nearby, Rogue stepped forward with a polite smile.
"I'm Marie. What brings you here?"
Susan hesitated.
"I'm… here to teach him. Aerospace basics."
Rogue's smile deepened slightly, like she'd just understood something amusing.
"I see."
Silence followed.
A long, slightly awkward silence.
After a minute, Susan cleared her throat.
"Does he always… train like that?"
Rogue didn't miss a beat.
"You get used to it."
Susan blinked.
"…Right."
Three hours later—
The training finally ended.
Noah stepped out, and someone handed him a set of clothes. He dressed without hurry, completely unfazed.
Susan looked away for a moment, then forced herself to focus.
Once he approached, she straightened and bowed her head slightly.
"Mr. Vale, I'd like to apologize on my brother's behalf. Johnny knows he acted out of line."
Noah didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he looked at her.
Carefully.
Thoughtfully.
Kingpin hadn't just sent a teacher.
He'd sent Susan Storm.
That wasn't an accident.
Noah turned away.
"Come with me."
Susan blinked. "Where?"
"Food," he said simply. "Then we'll figure out the rest."
"I'm here to teach you," she reminded him.
Noah glanced back, unimpressed.
"At the rate information travels through conversation, it'd take weeks to cover anything useful. I'd rather spend the time on something more efficient."
He continued walking.
"I'll be outside. Don't take too long."
He paused, then added, almost offhand—
"Unless you'd rather stay here."
Then he left.
Behind him, Susan hesitated, a faint flush creeping onto her face.
Rogue watched quietly, something unreadable in her expression.
Outside, Noah pulled out his phone and dialed.
Kingpin picked up immediately.
"You did well."
A chuckle came through the line.
"Just doing my job."
"The hospital situation?" Noah asked.
"Handled," Kingpin replied. "We made another pass. Anyone who kept talking got… reminded."
Noah's gaze hardened slightly.
"Not enough."
There was a pause.
"…Not enough?" Kingpin repeated. "Do you want them all eliminated?"
"No."
Noah's voice turned colder.
"I'm not talking about them."
A beat.
"Kingpin… do you sleep well at night?"
Silence.
"…I'm not sure I follow."
Noah exhaled slowly.
"When I focus—when I eat, when I rest, even when I'm trying to relax—there's always noise."
His tone sharpened.
"Voices. Complaints. Insults. Constant."
His fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
"It's irritating."
Kingpin didn't interrupt.
"So expand the scope," Noah said flatly. "I don't want to hear anything like that anymore."
A quiet understanding settled over the line.
This wasn't about one protest anymore.
It was about control.
And Noah had just decided—
He wanted more of it.