Mutants Bouncers

Blue Marvel sits calmly, his presence almost serene amidst the tension. His sharp eyes caught Strucker's subtle movements, indicating the beginning of an attack aimed at Tony and Pepper. He tilted his head slightly, his voice low but full of amusement.

"Oh, something's about to happen."

The conversation between Fury and the President died mid-sentence as they followed his gaze. Their eyes narrowed as they locked onto Strucker.

Max, nearby with his arms crossed, chimed in with his usual directness, "He's going to make his move."

A brief silence fell over the group as the air grew heavy with anticipation. Everyone knew what was coming.

"How long do we have?" the President asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and underlying impatience.

Fury's eyes flicked toward Strucker and then back at the President. "Ten minutes, I'd say."

The President scoffed at the estimate, a smirk creeping onto his face. "One minute's more than enough for these fools to be wiped out."

Blue Marvel, always calculating yet never boastful, added, "Ten seconds should do it."

Max, the ever-confident in his men, smirked. "I'll give it one second."

Fury crossed his arms, his face set in stone. "Well, let's see."

The quiet that followed was broken by a loud yawn. All heads turned to Shiki, who was lounging lazily against a pillar, arms folded across his chest. With an exaggerated motion, he rubbed his ear with his pinky finger and gave a dismissive yawn, his expression one of utter boredom.

"You all gonna fight, or just stand around and yap?" Shiki's words were delivered with such casual arrogance that it almost felt like an insult.

Strucker and Edward both turned toward him, their attention momentarily diverted. Strucker's eyes glinted with malice, but a dark grin formed on his lips. "You're right," Strucker sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "No point in dragging this out."

He stood tall, his eyes gleaming with the self-assured righteousness of a man who believed his might was absolute. His hand swept outward in a grand gesture toward his men.

"After all, only the one with the biggest fist can claim justice," Strucker declared, his voice booming as if laying down the law of the universe itself.

At his command, his men began to shift and morph before everyone's eyes. Their bones cracked and stretched as their bodies transformed. What were once mere soldiers now became grotesque humanoid beasts, their bodies bulging with unnatural muscle and vicious features. Snarls and growls echoed through the space as the creatures gathered behind Strucker.

Leading the pack was a monstrous figure—a blood-eyed, red-furred hyena. Its fur bristled with malice as its long claws scraped against the ground, a twisted grin spreading across its snout, hungry for violence.

The atmosphere shifted, thick with the promise of battle. The transformed beasts loomed menacingly behind their leader, ready to unleash their savage fury at his command. But amidst the rising tension, Shiki remained utterly unfazed. With a bored sigh, he yawned once more, barely acknowledging the threat. "Let's get this over with," he muttered under his breath.

Fury, now eyeing the grotesque creatures with a mixture of curiosity and alarm, asked, "What the hell are those things?"

Before anyone could answer, Shiki made his move. Without lifting a finger, an invisible force exploded from him—his Conqueror's Haki. The sheer pressure of his willpower crushed the air around him. In an instant, the beasts faltered, their monstrous forms frozen mid-charge. One by one, they collapsed to the ground, unconscious before they even realized what had happened.

The entire room fell silent, watching in disbelief as Shiki, still standing in his relaxed pose, had single-handedly taken down every enemy without so much as breaking a sweat.

The guests exchanged glances, trying to comprehend what they had just witnessed. Sam, Peter, and others looked at each other, stunned but quickly regaining their composure.

One of the guests stood up, smoothing out their formal wear with an annoyed huff. "What a boring show," they declared loudly, their voice laced with sarcasm.

"Yeah," another guest agreed, shaking their head in mock disappointment. "At least make it believable! What kind of wedding entertainment is this?"

With well-rehearsed precision, a few of the guests, clearly agents planted among the crowd, began redirecting the thoughts of those around them. They subtly led the guests' minds away from the reality of the attack, convincing them that the entire spectacle had been nothing more than a staged performance for the wedding.

Gradually, the mood in the room shifted. The guests began nodding in agreement, laughing off the encounter as if it had all been part of the act. Their initial shock and fear dissolved into amusement. Even Strucker and his wife, who had been so easily defeated, were met with boos from the crowd, as if they were mere actors who had failed to impress.

Some guests laughed heartily, commenting on how "realistic" the performance had been, while others criticized the "lack of excitement" in the so-called show.

Amidst the crowd's chatter, Shiki remained silent, his eyes half-lidded with indifference. To him, it had all been a waste of time—a mere distraction.

"That was a good move," the President remarked, observing the crowd's laughter and the shift in mood.

Max, standing beside him, nodded with a slight grin. "I know," he said confidently. He had anticipated the situation and made sure his team was ready to handle it, even before these clowns got knocked out.

As the chatter among the guests continued, another phase of the plan unfolded. With expert precision, subtle illusions were cast over the scene, making Strucker and his men vanish from sight. Though their unconscious bodies were still there, the illusions worked flawlessly. To the guests, it appeared as though the "actors" had simply disappeared from the stage.

Invisible workers moved with swift efficiency, dragging the limp bodies of Strucker's group out of the grand hall without a trace. It was a seamless operation—nothing more than a well-orchestrated cleanup that kept the illusion intact.

The guests continued their mingling, laughing about the "staged fight," none the wiser to the true events that had just unfolded.