Chương 37: Catching Up

Mason was not ashamed to admit that he lost himself in his training, losing track of time. Unfortunately, while he forgot about the outside world, it did not forget about him. It was on the third day, when Mason had recovered somewhat, that he suddenly detected another presence in the room. It was faint, so faint he almost missed it, but it was unmistakably present. Even that was relative, though, Mason realized as he opened his eyes and saw the illusory figure standing at the door.

It was Doom, fitted in his armor, or rather his spirit. His astral projection. Doom paused when Mason turned to look at him, shocked that he had been noticed so easily. Grinning, Mason greeted, "Victor, what a nice surprise. I had been wondering where you went. Up to no good, I assume." Calling Doom by his first name was something Mason had taken up to annoy him. Doom ignored the form of address, knowing perfectly well that showing annoyance would only prompt Mason to continue, and said, "Doom was occupied with…

other matters," for some reason, Mason noticed a flicker of triumph in Doom's eyes, "some of which includes you. Doom has come with an offer."

"I'm listening."

"You are currently being wanted across all nation members of the United Nations for seventeen accounts of violent murder, seven accounts of the desecration of corpses, destruction of public property and arson. As of now, you have reached the top of the FBI's Most Wanted list, with a bounty of a hundred million dollars for your arrest, and fifty million for information leading to your arrest." Even Mason stared at Doom for several seconds at the revelation, stunned by it.

He had certainly expected Fisk to use his connections to attack him, but that was far beyond anything he could have ever expected. In fact, even if all the people who had a hand in the operation he had shut down worked together, Mason doubted they could have managed to do this. Faking the murders was one thing, but to extend the bounty to what was essentially the whole world, they could not possibly have this level of influence. Even the Hand, as a centuries-old criminal empire, should not be able to do this.

But while he had doubts, he did not expose them, asking instead, "So what's the offer?"

"Political asylum. They could not get you in Latveria." Mason raised an eyebrow before snorting, "I appreciate the offer, Victor, but it's not really an option for me. There are people here I can't leave, and stuff left undone." The tyrant narrowed his eyes behind his mask, obviously disappointed.

"Doom thought you smarter than this. Do you truly believe you have a life left with them now? They are always watched now. And unless you clear your charges, you will live as a fugitive." Mason did not react in the way Doom expected him to, as he smirked cockily, questioning, "You really don't know, do you?" Doom frowned but said nothing, so Mason clarified, "Well, first, I'm innocent. It was a crazy woman who killed her own men, but that's beside the point.

The reason I was even there in the first place was that the Hand has already placed a bounty on my head, and Fisk has been helping them. I know I can't just live a normal life, but I need to protect them until I erase them from this city. Hopefully from this world too." Mason saw a flicker of recognition in Doom's eyes at his mention of the Hand. He kept his silence for a few seconds before finally saying, "So in the end, you fall to the same weakness as all men after all."

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Mason rolled his eyes, not taking him seriously.

"No need to get melodramatic; this won't affect our sessions." Doom scoffed, "Doom has no need for your teachings any longer. Doom has already learned everything he needed. You would have made for a decent adversary, but Doom shan't lower himself by dissuading you from clearly suicidal tendencies." Mason snorted, "Shan't. Who the fuck uses shan't? Alright, scamper off, you gremlin, a buzzkill is about the last thing I need right now."

Doom stared at him for a moment, tempted to blast his head off, before ruefully shaking his head and vanishing from the spot. Left alone, Mason got up and stretched; the three-fold gravity made it all the more comfortable. The strain it had placed on his body when he first entered was considerably less than before, which he had to account to the rapid growth of his body in the past three days.

As already stated, that growth would slow down as the days passed, but at the rate at which things went, Mason estimated that his strength would approach a full metric ton by the time he awakened his Spirit and reached the peak of the Awakening Realm. A 'strength of one ton' meant the ability to lift a thousand kilograms from the ground to above my head in a normal setting. Not simply lifting off the ground, but doing a full military press with it.

That kind of physical power was already enough to turn Mason into a serious threat for street-level heroes. Adding his martial arts on top? He could straight up defeat half of the soon-to-be-formed Avengers. Compounding his cultivation? Well, it wouldn't get him much further with the remaining Avengers, but still. Finally feeling ready, although his Spirit remained somewhat weary, the tear in it had considerably healed.

Actually, Mason had a theory that his Spirit was healing at the same pace as his other two Treasures were being fed, and that by the time it was fully healed, his cultivation would reach the peak. In its current state, it had healed enough that Mason could function normally, and that was just what he needed. He was weakened, at about 80% capacity, but the boost he had received in the past three days was over 20%, so he was actually slightly stronger than before the fight at the construction site.

Activating the portal to his apartment, Mason poked his head through and was relieved to find that no one was in his apartment. He did not want anyone to learn about the Gravity Room, but he would never go as far as killing someone to hide it. At least, not for this reason alone. However, as Mason fully stepped out of the room and closed it behind him, his phone exploded with notifications.

He had taken it with him inside because he had expected the police to comb his apartment if a warrant was placed on him, and his phone would inevitably be taken by the authorities if he simply left it outside. One might expect Mason to have received unending messages and missed calls from his family, yet there was only a single message. And that made him smile. That was because he understood this meant they trusted him. That single message was from his mother, and it spelled out a simple message: We love you.

Those were only three words, but they conveyed oceans of meaning. They loved him, of course, but also that they understood his phone would most likely be traced, so their messages would likely not get read, and even if he did, it would be in his best interest not to call. It also meant they trusted him more than the authorities calling for his arrest. There was also a message from Tony, telling him he was investigating. That meant something when it was said by Tony Stark.

Although Mason did not hold much hope in Tony clearing him of all charges that easily, he might help bring out the ones responsible for this. Mason hoped he had simply underestimated the Hand, and they were solely responsible for this, but he doubted it. It did not change his goals, though. Wanted or not, he would take down the Hand and Fisk. Back to his phone, the majority of the messages and calls Mason had gotten had actually come from unknown numbers, meaning his phone number might have leaked online.

Annoying, but he would not be able to use it for a while, so it was fine. However, among the sludge of messages, a few came from people he actually did know, and had their numbers saved. The first was Alice, his friend working with the Fantastic Four. She asked about his general wellness, but nothing unexpected. Next were Reed Richards and Susan Storm, his main contacts within the Fantastic Four, who were also fishing for news. Lastly was Minx, and her messages were more worrying.

The first were like everyone else, her being worried about him. But then, there were pictures. The first was one of her apartment, from the roof in front. It was followed by 'I think I lost my phone'. From two days ago. A second was of her tattoo salon, with Minx working on someone's forehead.

'I'm losing patience.' From a day ago. A third was taken in a dark room, with a single light to the side. In the middle was a chair, with Minx tied to it. There was only an address this time. From two hours ago. The phone cracked in his hand.