Melting Chapter 81: Abomination Fiasco! (Patreon)

If the Hulk and Abomination fiasco implicates S.H.I.E.L.D. as the main authority responsible for security lapses, then the person who’s really on edge right now is without a doubt the Mayor of New York City.

Aaron’s single remark—“New York isn’t safe”—has had unprecedented repercussions for the city. Quite a few companies are already wondering whether they should stay. Didn’t the mighty Osborn Group (or rather, the “Aaron Group”) with its towering skyscraper as a division also decide to relocate its headquarters somewhere else?

Today’s threat is just the Hulk and Abomination. What about next time?

Alien invaders storming New York?

Sounds laughable—but this is a Marvel-like world! Bald masses of civilians aside, those with true power and capital know extraterrestrials exist. If—just if—one day aliens really did come blasting into New York, wouldn’t all their efforts go down the drain?

Losing a headquarters is inconvenient enough, but if you lose your life, that’s the worst outcome of all.

Some folks have even begun to dig around about the Osborn Group—oh, excuse me, Aaron Group—and where they plan to move their main office. With Aaron’s foresight, it’s likely the new location would be much safer, right?

The Mayor of New York is sweating bullets, reading all these news stories dissecting Aaron’s comment, plus the feedback and comments from the public. It feels like the sky is falling.

Meanwhile, Nick Fury is similarly beside himself. Handling these supernormal incidents is precisely S.H.I.E.L.D.’s job. Yet they failed to stop it before it happened, threatening the safety of the global elite. One slip, and it could spark an international crisis—at least a hundred times worse than 9/11! He can’t take that kind of blame.

Of course, beyond those two, the most miserable man of all is the one who tried to capture the Hulk, setting off a huge media uproar that forced the Osborn Expo to shut down early, leaving all those VIPs stumbling away in embarrassment: Air Force Lieutenant General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross.

Ross hung up the phone, face twisted with rage. General Ronald had just chewed him out, cursing his entire family across eighteen generations. Then the President called, and basically everyone who outranked him had phoned in to deliver their “cordial greetings.”

Under normal circumstances, Ross—backed by the military—might have smoothed it over, maybe even turned it into a success story, jockeying for a future position as Secretary of Defense.

But now? He had to consider retiring early from his rank as Lieutenant General. One misstep, and it’s a court-martial for sure. A run-of-the-mill expo has escalated into a massive international diplomatic incident. Someone must take the fall.

“Damn it! Figure out a way to tell Blonsky to get the Hulk out of Manhattan. Otherwise, send him to meet God!”

Ross was livid. He knew all about the Osborn Expo, knew that many high-level big shots would be attending, and knew it was on June 5th.

But what he didn’t expect was that Blonsky, ignoring orders and injecting an enhanced dose of serum, would become the Abomination—and on such a crucial day! In Harlem, no less—just a few kilometers from the expo site! Worse still, after gaining such tremendous power, Blonsky had completely ignored further commands, morphing from a decorated commando into a twisted “Homelander-plus” figure.

Now he was rampaging around to draw out the Hulk, wantonly slaughtering his own teammates, causing heavy military casualties. And once the Hulk appeared, the two engaged in a full-on brawl on busy city streets. Everything was out of Ross’s control.

Getting Blonsky to stand down? Ross suspected even an armored division might not do the trick. One squad braved death, rolling up in a military jeep with a loudspeaker to hail him—only to meet fists the size of sandbags.

“I alone control my destiny. No one gives me orders! No one!” Abomination roared. Exploiting his superior strength and combat experience, he smacked Hulk aside with a single blow, then turned to the jeep.

A rocket soared at him in a trail of fire, but Abomination just snatched it out of the air and crushed it. The resulting explosion—enough to punch through a wall—merely spat out some smoke. Abomination wasn’t even scratched.

Raising a massive fist, he flattened the jeep entirely. When Hulk lunged, Abomination caught his arm. With an animalistic roar, he literally flung Hulk like a punching bag—hurling him off toward Manhattan.

“Now I am the invincible God—!” Abomination, like an enraged King Kong, beat his chest. His roar echoed through the streets, and nobody could refute him.

“Miracle Man, you’re the eternal God!”

“Who goes there?!”

Enraged, Abomination whipped around, furious that someone dared upstage him. On a giant screen in the plaza, Justin Hammer, boss of Hammer Industries, stood up cheering and clapping, shouting that line. Abomination’s eyes went wide, burning that face into his memory. Then more people stood, offering praise to Aaron:

“Aaron is the God of Miracles!”

“No!!”

Abomination’s eyes reddened, glaring with mad jealousy at Aaron’s face.

“Aaron… Osborn Group’s CEO…

America’s brightest star, the Einstein of modern medicine…

Miracle God!!”

Before becoming Abomination, Blonsky was just a middle-ranking officer who risked his life for some wealth and authority. Yet even so, a mere Lt. General Ross could bark commands at him arbitrarily.

Then there’s Aaron, 27 years old, and already flattered by everyone. Blonsky saw Air Force Commander Ronald, the U.S. President, the Secretary of Defense, the Five-Powers officials, and trillion-dollar corporate tycoons.

They’d been praising Aaron at the expo while Blonsky was out here brawling the Hulk for America’s safety. These pampered bigwigs were chanting Aaron’s name—“Miracle God!”

And more insultingly, even Ross, with his rank, struggled to get into the expo hall, while Aaron was revered by them all. Jealousy raged. Before, Blonsky envied Hulk’s strength, so he beat him. But now he envied Aaron’s money and fame.

“There can only be one God, and that’s me, Blonsky!

Manhattan… tremble, your mighty God is coming!”

With that, Abomination changed his target. One more punch knocked the “boring” Hulk out of the way, and he strode off toward the Osborn Expo in Manhattan. Ross felt darkness before his eyes.

“Damn it—stop him at all costs!”

Meanwhile, up on a rooftop that overlooked the scene, Aaron—who really “ought to be” in the middle of the expo—had teleported here with Felicia and Jean. Each of them sat on little stools, holding watermelons and seeds, set to enjoy a real-life Hollywood hero blockbuster. Yet in a blink, trouble was coming their way.

“Boss,” Felicia said blankly, “I think that big guy’s heading… for our company?”

She stared into the distance. Indeed, the Osborn Group’s skyscraper stood out like a lighthouse in the dark, guiding lost travelers. Aaron rose. “I’ve seen folks who eat crap, but I’ve never seen someone so bent on committing suicide.”

Felicia got excited. “Boss, want me to handle him?”

“You…not yet,” Aaron said, shaking his head. In addition to her Spider-powers, he’d gradually bestowed upon Felicia various abilities—super flexibility, “Kato’s Hand,” temperature control, muscle manipulation, etc. She’d improved significantly, enough to spar with Aaron at full strength for three minutes. But realistically, at present, she could only distract Abomination a bit. A speed/finesse hero going up against a tank-like melee bruiser was asking too much.

Looking a bit disappointed, Felicia hung her head. Aaron ruffled her hair. “Keep it up and I’ll give you something even better soon.” Hearing that, Felicia’s eyes lit with renewed battle spirit.

College gals, Aaron thought—so easy to encourage and reassure. Maybe I should frequent more campuses.

“I’m going out for some oranges. You two wait here—don’t move. I’ll be right back,” Aaron said.

“Sure thing, Daddy!”

“!!!”

Jean’s eyes widened at Felicia. Did I just hear what I think I heard?

Felicia remained unfazed. Isn’t this standard for a sweet personal secretary? It’s all small stuff—no need to fuss. She’ll see how it is eventually. Possibly recalling something, Felicia pressed her thighs together.

“Hey, buddy, who are you looking for?” Tony Stark, wearing the Mark V armor, landed nearby in Abomination’s path, speaking in a breezy tone.

“Out of my way!” yelled Abomination. Tony had once been a rising star—until Aaron skyrocketed into the scene, making Tony yesterday’s news. Abomination didn’t even bother looking at him, casually ripping out a fire hydrant and throwing it like a projectile. Tony dodged, raised his palm, and gathered an energy charge.

“All right, looks like I’ll have to beat you down first so we can talk,” he muttered. The repulsor beam flared, but Abomination merely ate the blast full on, not even slowing. Glancing at his unscathed arm, he smirked. “That’s it? Are you scratching an itch?” Tony checked JARVIS’s damage readouts and frowned.

“Nice defense. Try this one.” Opening the chest of Mark V, he gathered a larger energy mass. Firing full-power, the beam struck Abomination’s chest precisely. Abomination brushed his chest, still unscathed, sporting a savage sneer. “So-called Iron Man is worthless junk in the presence of a god!”

Seeing that, Tony Stark’s composure broke. “I need bigger guns. Damn, I should’ve brought my Mark VI,” he groaned. Mark V was a portable “briefcase” armor for emergencies, quickly assembled in any setting.

But to shrink it to a suitcase size, Tony had to reduce armor plating. Unlike his other suits that had two layers, this one had only one layer. On top of that, it only carried palm and chest repulsors with limited power, so it might handle small fry. But a Hulk-level Abomination? It was like squirting a giant bear with a water pistol.

Tony kept a safe distance. His weaker suit wouldn’t survive a fist bigger than his helmet.

“JARVIS,” Tony ordered, “make a note for the next suit: upgrade weapons for flight, rapid equipping, thicker armor, ideally also able to absorb lightning, withstand heat vision, freeze breath, super-strong punches—”

“Tony, do you want an anti–Abomination suit, or an anti–Aaron suit?” came a familiar voice from behind. Down below, Abomination roared, glaring red-eyed at something behind Tony.

“All right, so he’s coming after you,” that voice said. “What’d you do? Sleep with his woman? Kicked him in the butt?”

Tony didn’t need to turn to identify that voice: his lifelong “rival,” Aaron! In Tony’s mind, that was his greatest adversary. Aaron, for his part, never even considered Tony a competitor. Simply put, Tony was beneath his notice. Or at least, in the “playboy” department, Tony once had a head start, but Aaron would surpass him sooner or later. Tony had been hung up on just one “tree,” anyway.

“Probably ‘cause… I’m better-looking?” Aaron mused seriously. Tony scowled, surveying them both. “I’m also better-looking than him!”

“Not better-looking than me, though.”

“Damn!” Tony rolled his eyes, furious. He insisted, “Twenty years ago, I was the best-looking lad in the county. You can’t compare!”

“Confidence is healthy; overconfidence is denial. You can fool your fans, but don’t delude yourself.”

With that, Aaron dropped down in front of Abomination.

“Aaron! So you finally show up. Didn’t realize you were no mere mortal. But no matter how mysterious you are, you’re no match for me!” Abomination snarled, bursting with gamma-charged strength, restless to unleash it. While he was surprised Aaron could fly, he still believed he’d definitely win. Neither the unstoppable Hulk nor a once-glorious Iron Man posed any threat, so how could this guy?

Having injected both the super-soldier serum and Hulk’s blood, he transcended Captain America, Hulk, Iron Man—a “super–Avengers heavyweight.” Who could stop him?

“You’re telling a ‘god’ to kneel?” Aaron raised a brow.

“Haha, of course! In front of a god, you should be on your knees, begging forgiveness!” Blonsky pictured that scene of all those high-level VIPs worshiping Aaron, forced to kneel before him (Blonsky) now. It fired him up. This is what being a god means!

“If you’re so sure—”

“Then kneel!” Abomination bellowed, eyes wide. He was about to say more, but Aaron abruptly appeared right in front of him. No visible movement. Before Blonsky could blink, both of his tree-trunk-like calves made a crisp snapping sound. He collapsed to his knees involuntarily, while Aaron—barely taller than average—stood calmly, receiving that forced bow.

Tony Stark gaped. “JARVIS, did we catch that on camera?”

“No, sir.”

“Huh?”

“I tried slowing the footage by a factor of a hundred thousand. Still couldn’t see his moves. It’s as though Mr. Aaron…teleported?”

“...” Tony thought for a moment. “Record that. For my next suit, we need a far better reaction system, so it can detect surroundings and respond if I can’t.” He glanced at Blonsky’s shattered legs. “And thicker armor—like, thicker than elephant legs!”

“Yes, sir.”

“By the way, did you get that entire scene on camera? He was damned handsome right then.”

“I’ve been recording continuously. Not a problem.” Tony nodded.

Meanwhile, Blonsky was dazed. This wasn’t in the script! Director, you got the wrong scene. Reshoot!

Just then, an all-too-familiar roar came from afar—Hulk. But seeing Abomination kneeling at Aaron’s feet, both Hulk and Bruce Banner’s consciousness froze a few seconds. Hulk tripped, face-planting, but still managed to glance up. That roar woke Blonsky from his trance. Immediately disregarding Aaron’s spooky powers in extreme shame and fury, he swung a fist packing thousands of tons of force. But just ten centimeters from Aaron, it froze in midair.

Horrified, Blonsky saw his own fist jerk around uncontrollably and smash into his own face. Bang—a crisp, ringing blow. One could tell from the sound it was a direct hit on a sturdy skull.