Carribean Base (5)

Zack hovered above, watching the scene with a trace of regret. "What a waste," he muttered. "If they'd gone off, I could've told Ava and the others not to bother coming."

With a sharp dive, Zack aimed for the military base at the heart of Caribbean base.

In the command center, chaos erupted. "Fuck! Fuck!!" The roars of frustration from Jock and another officer echoed through the room, their curses carrying the weight of desperation. "Launch the missiles! Intercept him now!" Jock bellowed.

A pale-faced subordinate stammered, "C-Chief, all the anti-aircraft weapons were destroyed in the initial attack."

"What about the stingers?!" Jock snapped, practically spitting the words. "Those handheld missiles—we've still got those, right? Use them! Take him down!"

No one had the heart to remind him that handheld weapons like Stingers were meant for helicopters and slow-moving aircraft, not a man in a high-tech suit zipping through the air like a falcon.

Before anyone could respond, Jock felt a sharp pain in his back, a cold chill spreading through his chest. He looked down in horror to see a bloodied fist bursting through his ribcage, clutching his still-beating heart.

Jock's wide eyes locked onto Navas, his trusted ally, standing behind him. "Y-You…" he gasped, but the words died on his lips as his body collapsed to the floor. His lifeless gaze seemed to ask a silent question: Why?

Navas, unfazed, dropped the heart onto the ground and crushed it underfoot. "Pathetic," he growled. 

"Why now?" Kshatti, another officer, asked, clearly unsettled but not entirely surprised. His words weren't a protest, just mild annoyance. "Timing could've been better."

"He was useless anyway. Couldn't handle one enemy in the sky," Navas snapped. As he spoke, he ripped his shirt off, revealing rippling, steel-like muscles. A tattoo of a ferocious tiger's head on his chest seemed almost alive, its savage eyes glaring.

"Sir, high-energy biological activity detected!" Ego's voice chimed in Zack's headset as he streaked toward the base.

"High energy?" Zack glanced at the HUD and spotted the man standing in front of the central building. Shirtless, tattooed, and radiating a dangerous aura, the man stood motionless as if daring Zack to approach.

"Name: Navas Puticha," Ego began, launching into a detailed rundown. "Male, 31. Former professional Muay Thai fighter, known as the 'Black Tiger.' Sentenced to life in prison for killing his opponent and the referee during a match. Known for extreme violence, cannibalism, and a... peculiar interest in women over forty."

"Charming," Zack muttered with a smirk. "Black Tiger, huh?" He hovered in mid-air, raising his palm to charge the suit's pulse cannon.

But instead of fear, Navas wore a twisted grin, his confidence unnerving. "You think you're untouchable just because you can fly?" he shouted, his voice laced with malice. As he spoke, the tiger tattoo on his chest began to glow an ominous red, pulsating like it had a heartbeat of its own. "That's… new," Zack muttered.

With a sudden roar, Navas clenched his fist and punched toward the sky. The air around him rippled violently as shockwaves exploded outward, layer upon layer, creating a visible distortion in the atmosphere. The sheer force of the punch sent debris flying in all directions. Fallen leaves, dust, even loose metal poles were torn apart by the pressure.

The shockwave raced toward Zack, shredding through everything in its path. Below, a metal streetlamp crumpled like paper, its shattered pieces scattering in all directions.

Navas's ability to compress air in a specific area, creating unstable high-pressure waves, was powerful enough to tear through most targets. Theoretically, if developed further, he could become a true powerhouse, capable of creating wind walls and barriers from thin air. But for now, his skills were raw and inefficient.

"The last person who tried to blow me away with an air cannon was a zombie…" Zack's calm voice echoed through the air, breaking Navas's fierce concentration. For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed Navas's face—a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

"How is this possible?" Navas stared in shock at Zack, hovering unharmed in the air. His air wave attack could tear through armored vehicles. Was this man wearing armor stronger than a tank?

If someone like Zack were present, they'd definitely clap Navas on the shoulder and confirm his suspicion: Zack's armor wasn't just stronger than a tank—it was at least twice as durable. "If this is the best you've got…" Zack's voice turned cold, his mechanical suit glowing faintly as he prepared to strike. "Then you can die."

In an instant, Zack dove toward Navas like an arrow, the thrusters on his suit propelling him downward. Navas raised his fist, ready to attack again, but before he could react—Boom! Boom!

Two sharp particle beams shot from Zack's gauntlets, hitting Navas's raised hand with precision. A sizzling sound filled the air as most of his clenched fist melted away, leaving only bone and shredded skin.

"AHHHHH!" The delayed pain hit Navas like a freight train, his screams of agony piercing the air. But Zack didn't give him time to recover. In one swift motion, Zack crashed into him, grabbing his face with his steel hand and slamming him into the ground.

The sheer force of the impact shattered the concrete as Zack pushed Navas along the pavement, the high-speed friction leaving a long, bloody smear behind. Navas struggled, his vision blackening, his head grinding against the ground while heat and pain burned his skin. By the time Zack stopped, Navas's back was shredded, with bones visibly protruding, and the back of his skull had been scraped flat.

Zack stood over him, his armored frame towering like an executioner. Grabbing Navas by the head with one hand, he lifted the injured man off the ground effortlessly. "If I remember correctly," Zack said, his tone mocking, "you called me a Stupid bastard, didn't you?"

Navas roared in pain and anger, swinging his remaining fist wildly at Zack's armor. The hits were futile, barely leaving a scratch on the steel. "It seems like that hurt…" Zack commented dryly before tightening his grip on Navas's skull. 

The pressure made Navas feel like his head would burst. "AHHH!" Navas howled, his voice cracking under the strain.

"Enough!" Zack barked, silencing the air. With his free hand, Zack struck Navas across the face, shattering his teeth in a single blow. Blood splattered as Zack reached into Navas's mouth, grabbing his tongue and ripping it out with brutal efficiency.

Blood gushed from Navas's mouth, choking him as he gurgled incoherently. His mutated physique kept him from dying immediately, but this resilience only prolonged his suffering.

"Now," Zack said, hoisting the bloodied and battered Navas like a broken doll, "take me to Officer Jock."

Zack carried Navas through the entrance of the building, his gait casual, as if he were strolling through his own garden. Ego, the AI integrated into his suit, scanned the building's layout and projected it onto Zack's HUD. With a glance, Zack identified the command room and began walking toward it.