Marvel's master of cosmic magic

Chapter 571

"You’re being awfully generous," a bespectacled middle-aged man remarked as he stepped up beside Ron Keller, his tone half-mocking. "If it were me, I wouldn’t have agreed to their terms so easily. I’d have let them sweat for a while."

Ron waved it off with an easy smile.

"Gade, if we take Natson Island and leave nothing for anyone else, it bruises egos. And trust me, some people care about pride more than profit. This is my first time personally overseeing an operation of this scale. If it succeeds, my family’s influence inside Behemoth skyrockets. We might even take control of the board."

His smile sharpened.

"I can’t afford failure. Tossing a few scraps to others is nothing. Even vicious dogs will wag their tails if you throw them leftovers."

Gade nodded. "Fair point. The island’s defenders aren’t the real issue. As long as those external factions stay out of it, this operation is guaranteed."

"The Sacred Tree is all that matters," Ron said flatly. "Everything else is replaceable."

He raised a hand.

"Deploy the teams. Advance as planned. Eliminate all resistance."

At his command, warships surged toward the island. From every direction, armored transports opened their bays. So-called ’heroes’ in customized combat suits led squads of gene-enhanced special forces onto the beaches.

They advanced methodically from the outskirts inward, sweeping the island clean. Their objective was simple. Secure the population. Crush the defenders. March on the central palace. Claim the Sacred Tree.

Above them, more than a hundred armed helicopters filled the sky. Missile pods, rocket arrays, door-mounted heavy guns, and snipers with modified vision systems turned the airspace into a killing zone. Their primary targets were the island’s true elites.

Then something unexpected happened.

Not far from Behemoth’s fleet, another warship launched a swarm of drones. Hundreds. Thousands. They spread across the island like a metallic cloud.

A calm voice echoed from every speaker.

"To anyone on Natson Island who speaks our language, proceed to the designated coordinates on the eastern shore. Global Response will provide safe evacuation. Past offenses will be reviewed with leniency. Those without criminal records will be offered legal identity and employment."

The broadcast repeated endlessly.

The island wasn’t populated solely by criminals. Many had been labeled fugitives decades or centuries ago, enemies of powers that no longer existed. Others were descendants who had committed no crimes at all.

Gathered together, they represented a considerable force.

Ron’s expression darkened instantly.

"Huang Boran," he snapped into his communicator, "what is the meaning of this?"

Those drones weren’t just loudspeakers. With that many units in the air, they could become a weapons platform at a moment’s notice.

"That’s for your benefit, Mr. Keller," Huang replied cheerfully. "If our people wander into your battlefield, misunderstandings might happen. This way, anyone who wants to leave can do so peacefully. Those who don’t won’t interfere with your operation. Everyone wins, right?"

The friendly tone made Ron grind his teeth.

"Finish your announcement and pull them back," he warned. "Or don’t blame me for what happens next."

"No problem at all," Huang said smoothly. "We’ll withdraw immediately. If you notice any stragglers, feel free to shoot them down."

The line went dead.

Ron exhaled sharply.

"Negotiation is an art," a blond young man said as he approached, running a hand theatrically through his hair. "There’s no need for brute force. Leave the Natson King to me. I’ll convince that little girl to hand over the Tree willingly."

Ron frowned.

"Jarrett, don’t underestimate her. Try diplomacy if you must. If it fails, retreat."

"In this situation?" Jarrett scoffed. "They won’t resist."

He boarded a helicopter alone and headed straight for the palace.

At the royal grounds, Rowan Mercer listened to the drone broadcast and chuckled softly.

"Global Response does have style."

"All islanders have been evacuated to the main hall," Mila Moore reported after checking her communicator. "They’re safe and ready if needed."

Rowan nodded and summoned the throne, taking his seat calmly.

"Good. Then let’s enjoy the performance."

The helicopter descended before the palace steps. Jarrett disembarked with two armed gene-soldiers and strode upward without slowing.

When he saw Rowan on the throne and Mila at his side, he paused for half a second before recovering.

"I’m Jarrett," he announced. "I represent Behemoth Corporation. I’m here to speak with the esteemed King of Natson."

He spoke of respect, but his tone was casual, arrogant. His feet never stopped moving.

Rowan lifted a finger.

Gravity intensified.

Jarrett and his escorts dropped to their knees halfway up the stairs, crushed in place as if the air itself had turned to iron.

"If you’re here to see me," Rowan said calmly, "kneel when you speak."

On a distant warship, Ron stared at the live feed in disbelief.

"Who is that?" he muttered. "Wasn’t the King the girl beside him?"

Gade adjusted his glasses, frowning.

"He looks familiar. That’s Julian Bellamy. He’s been making waves recently in Asia. Extremely powerful. I didn’t expect him to be connected to Natson Island... let alone sitting on the throne."

"Powerful?" Ron scoffed. "So what. No individual changes the outcome."

He turned sharply.

"Mark him as a priority target. Capture him alive. Same with the former King."

To Ron Keller, even a monster was just another asset waiting to be broken.