C13: Skirmish
Although Li Ran's plan seemed calculated, he had underestimated one thing—General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross wasn't the type to let unpredictable variables linger near the Hulk, especially not with the stakes this high.
"The first assault team, move in!" General Ross barked into the comms, the rotor wash from the modified SHIELD-issue UH-60 Blackhawk thundering behind him. "Search for the earlier unidentified combatant. If he resists, weapons free."
Following the command, a squad of eight heavily armed soldiers in StarkTech-enhanced tactical armor, an early iteration of the War Machine adaptive armor deployed from the hovering helicopter onto the ruined streets of Midtown Manhattan. They advanced in formation, their HUDs synced via SHIELD's encrypted tactical net.
Due to the Hulk's recent rampage, the street was an apocalyptic mess. Chunks of concrete, flipped taxis, and torn streetlights turned the battlefield into a treacherous maze. Emil Blonsky, now a special operations commander under Ross's jurisdiction following the Harlem Incident, surveyed the area. He paused as he stepped over a wrecked Nissan, a massive, green handprint was sunken into its hood.
Despite his extensive combat background, even Blonsky felt a familiar edge of fear. He knew what was coming. He remembered it from before Banner's alter ego was no ordinary foe.
"Visual at 200 meters possible ID on the unidentified individual!" a soldier called over the comms, his helmet feeding Blonsky a stabilized thermal view of a figure crouched behind a partially collapsed bodega.
Li Ran sensed the crosshairs on him before he even saw them.
The instinct honed from weeks of near-death situations kicked in. He glanced up and his eyes met a soldier's from across the street.
Feigning ignorance, he raised his hands. "Look, this is all a big misunderstanding. I was just—"
BANG-BANG-BANG!
Li Ran's pupils shrank. Muzzle flashes flared, and he leapt, shattering the concrete beneath his foot. A faint blue aura glowed around his legs the lingering power from the D-Rank Dali King Kong Leg card he had activated earlier.
Rolling to safety behind a flipped NYPD cruiser, he glanced back. The wall behind him had been turned into Swiss cheese. One second slower, and he'd be toast.
"Direct fire without confirmation?" he muttered, seething. "They're not playing around."
It was obvious from the soldiers' decisive fire they weren't under orders to subdue. General Ross had no intention of taking prisoners.
Inside his tactical headset, Blonsky grimaced. "Target evaded. Maintain pressure watch for lateral flanks."
He ducked behind a scorched sedan, slamming a fresh StarkTech magazine into his pulse rifle. Though SHIELD protocols forbade lethal engagement on U.S. soil, Ross had sidestepped them using his long-standing Pentagon authorization for Gamma Response Scenarios.
In the distance, the Hulk, still in a state of frenzied rage let out a guttural roar, tossing a cement mixer into a nearby building. Glass exploded from the impact, raining down in deadly shards.
Just one block away, another battle raged.
The elite soldiers of Ross's Gamma Control Team were all trained under SHIELD's Silent Reaper Program, meant to mimic the tactical adaptability of Steve Rogers's strike teams. In a head-on battle, Li Ran knew he was outclassed ten to one.
But this wasn't a head-on battle.
From the previous exchange, they underestimate me... perfect.
"Target shows signs of enhanced kinetic response. Likely meta or tech-assisted," one soldier reported over the radio.
"Do not engage solo. Flank and suppress."
BOOM—
An explosion rang out, this one closer. Dust filled the air. Blonsky's eyes widened.
"Sound off! Squad status check—roll call!" he snapped.
"One!"
"Two!"
"Three!"
...
"Six."
Blonsky muttered, "Seven."
He paused. One voice missing.
"Where's Jijie?"
"Sir, I didn't hear his call…"
"Damn it. What happened?!"
"I don't know… just a loud crash, and then—"
BOOM!
Another explosion. The line cut.
"Edward! Come in!" Blonsky shouted.
Silence.
Blonsky's heart sank. As a former test subject for the Super Soldier Variant Serum, a diluted offshoot of Dr. Erskine's formula—he could tell this was no ordinary punk off the street. Whoever they had engaged was eliminating them one by one and doing it without being seen.
"Prepare for full assault. This ends now!" he barked. "One, two, three—GO!"
The remaining six soldiers surged from cover, weapons drawn.
And that's when they saw it.
The cause of the chaos.
"[Famousness from Assault Squad Members +0.4]"
"[Famousness from Emil +30]"
"[Famousness from Assault Squad Members +0.4]"
Li Ran smirked behind cover, then stood, brushing glass off his shoulder.
"Take this note down—Fat Boy Happy Water!"
He kicked.
A crimson blur shot forward a Coca-Cola can, streaking like a missile.
With kinetic force borrowed from the King Kong Leg, the aluminum transformed into a deadly projectile. It struck the nearest soldier square in the chest plate, launching him backwards into a lamppost with a crunch.
BOOM!
Armor cracked. Brown liquid splattered across the pavement like some absurd battlefield fountain.
Another can launched—this one knocked a rifle clean from a soldier's hand, bending the barrel like a pretzel.
Blonsky froze. The man was weaponizing soda.
Weaponizing soda.
Who the hell is this guy?! he thought.
More cans flew, Pepsi, Sprite, even a Dr. Pepper, each one propelled with terrifying precision. Powered by the supernatural leg technique, these mundane objects carried enough force to flip a SWAT van.
In the chaos, the remaining soldiers scrambled, one slipping on a burst puddle of Coca-Cola, another blinded by fizzy spray to the visor.
It was absurd. It was humiliating.
It was working.
From his position above, Ross was watching through binoculars.
"What the hell am I looking at?" he muttered.
A tech officer answered quietly, "Sir… He's using consumer-grade soft drinks as tactical weapons."
Ross gritted his teeth. "Get me Banner. Now."
---