12 Chapter 12 : Carl's Power!

If Carl had truly been a teenager in junior high school, he would have undoubtedly been excited by Scott's words.

However, trapped within the confines of this fifteen-year-old body, he embodied a social adeptness acquired through several years of societal immersion, understanding the delicate balance between maintaining a presence while remaining inconspicuous.

Thus, Carl remained noncommittal in response to Scott's words.

It was common knowledge among mutants that emotions could be influenced by their abilities. With mutants possessing an array of peculiar powers, their wills were often susceptible to manipulation and control.

Today's belief could easily become tomorrow's betrayal.

In a world teeming with advanced technologies, particularly in biological genetics, innovations like the Sentinel, capable of emulating various mutant abilities, blurred the lines between mechanics and biology.

With these thoughts in mind, Carl's voice echoed within his consciousness, "System, if my blood and tissues were extracted, could the power of Kryptonian cells be decrypted and replicated?"

This question had been weighing heavily on Carl's mind.

He dreaded the possibility that one day, after showcasing his unparalleled might and astonishing speed, his genetic makeup would become a target, resulting in a surge of individuals wielding powers akin to Superman.

In response to Carl's inquiry, the system's voice resonated in his mind.

"The Kryptonian Superman bloodline possessed by the host is a product of regulation and cannot be replicated or discovered."

"When the host's tissue departs from the host, the Kryptonian medium will dissipate under the authority of the system."

This assurance lifted a weight off his shoulders.

Carl breathed a sigh of relief, a semblance of embarrassment creeping onto his face.

"Mr. Scott, I have no intention of concealing my abilities."

"I merely believe that, as a newcomer to the school, maintaining a low profile is prudent. Being overly conspicuous might alienate my classmates."

Carl's words immediately garnered approval from those present, painting him as modest, courteous, and unassuming despite his remarkable abilities.

Scott's expression softened into a smile, admiringly remarking, "I see. Nevertheless, you need not worry about these Westerners; brilliance should shine brightly."

"Go ahead, unleash your full strength, and let everyone witness your power."

This time, Carl didn't hesitate to accept. It seemed fitting; he too was curious about his current capabilities, and Scott would serve as a reliable benchmark.

As a protege nurtured by Professor X, Scott had been overlooked and marginalized in the movies.

In reality, his strength is formidable, a fact evident from his role as the leader of the X-Men.

If Scott were truly weak, how could Storm, Wolverine, and Iceman accept his leadership?

"Alright, professor, I'm ready," Carl announced.

With a mighty roar, Carl slowly exhaled, his expression turning serious.

In truth, Carl lacked combat experience. Whether before his crossing or in his original body, he had only been in a few scuffles during his school days.

But lack of experience mattered little. This was merely a sparring match within the school, and he intended to give it his all.

As the adrenaline coursed through his veins, a formidable power surged from Carl's taut muscles, altering his entire demeanor in an instant.

His right foot pressed into the ground, muscles expanding with tension.

Boom!

In a flash, a surge of power erupted, cracking the solid concrete floor beneath him as Carl propelled forward, leaving behind a trail of afterimages against the recoil.

In that moment, Carl's speed approached nearly 100 meters per second.

His incredible velocity almost made it seem as if he teleported, closing the distance between him and Scott in a mere instant, his right fist clenched.

The fist shot forth like a cannonball.

Such was the force and speed behind the punch that the air in its wake compressed into a transparent arc, emitting a sharp whistle.

The sheer ferocity of the blow caused Scott's expression to shift slightly as he instinctively crossed his arms in defense.

Bang!

A muffled crash reverberated throughout the training room.

With a thunderous impact, Cyclops, previously composed and donning his signature glasses, was sent hurtling backward under the astonished gaze of onlookers, as if struck by a locomotive.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Under the fierce impact of Carl's full-force punch, Scott was propelled more than ten meters backward.

Then, after shattering the two ice barriers in front of Bobby, he skidded across the ground for another ten meters before coming to a halt, appearing somewhat embarrassed.

This punch silenced the entire training room, with everyone wearing expressions of astonishment.

Their surprise wasn't directed at Carl's strength per se; after all, Colossus also possessed considerable power. What truly caught their attention was the sheer magnitude of Carl's strength and the astonishing speed at which he moved, nearly surpassing the limits of their perception.

At that moment, even Carl himself seemed taken aback. He exhaled deeply and apologized, "Mr. Scott, are you alright? I didn't anticipate the extent of my strength."

Indeed, Carl felt a twinge of surprise himself, tinged with a hint of suppressed excitement. He hadn't realized the full extent of his own power.

Cough cough!

Scott coughed twice from where he stood, rising from the ground and dusting off his uniform. With a composed demeanor, he assured, "I'm alright."

Though he claimed to be unharmed, Scott's arms trembled slightly, though no one seemed to notice.

Taking a deep breath, his voice lowering, Scott questioned, "West, I distinctly recall your fist strength during testing a few days ago was only 1.3 thousand kilograms."

"Why then, did I feel as if your strength just now exceeded 15,000 kilograms?"

"Fifteen tons of force."

Shadowcat, standing at a distance, was taken aback upon hearing this. She hadn't anticipated Carl's physical strength to be so formidable. Wasn't his mutant ability energy-based?

Carl offered a somewhat apologetic explanation, "During the test that day, the first punch was merely a warm-up for me. I swung it casually, hence the modest performance."

"Later, when I was prepared for a serious assessment, the proctor overseeing it deemed it satisfactory."

"At that time, I had only just arrived at the school. Fearful of offending the proctor, I refrained from retesting, hence my uncertainty regarding my true strength."

"But I sense it shouldn't be merely ten tons."

Carl was being truthful; his grip strength did not amount to ten tons, aside from his earlier warm-up excuse.

Under normal circumstances, an average person's fist strength doubles their grip strength, coupled with the kinetic energy boost from moving at one second per hundred meters.

The force behind Carl's recent punch likely approached, or even surpassed, twenty tons.

With the power to deliver a twenty-ton punch, one might understandably feel apprehensive.

Upon hearing Carl's explanation, Storm pondered from a distance and remarked, "This likely relates to West's speed. Unlike Peter, whose speed only slightly exceeds that of ordinary individuals, his velocity is tenfold greater than the norm."

"And as we know, the force of a punch isn't solely determined by muscle and bone strength but also by the speed of the strike."

"The fundamental principle of physics dictates that greater speed equates to greater force."

****

Support me on my patreon and read upto 15 early chapters.

https://www.patreon.com/AniScout