Do You Want to Live, or Win?

Germany, Berlin.

Ever since Magneto rampaged across Europe, many European countries had already become states in name only, but many others had still managed to cling to life.

Those who had luckily survived the catastrophe, out of recognition for the same country and ethnicity, continued to gather together. On the ruins of their former cities, they rebuilt new cities from the ground up.

Berlin was one such city.

All the German survivors had gathered in Berlin. With the support of charitable organizations from around the world, they had spent nearly a year rebuilding the city, and had finally succeeded.

Today was the reconstruction ceremony for Berlin.

On the new Alexander Square, crowds surged beneath the podium. Nearly every citizen had come to attend the ceremony.

Many media reporters had also gathered near the podium. Speaking in a variety of languages, they were broadcasting the grand ceremony live to the entire world.

The time had come. The new mayor of Berlin, as well as Germany’s new chancellor, Heinz Heisberg, stepped onto the podium and began his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my friends in the press, distinguished guests…"

"Welcome to the reconstruction ceremony of New Berlin. At the same time, we are taking this opportunity to declare to the world that Germany still exists!"

A wave of applause rose from below. Many citizens were in tears as they clapped with all their might.

On the podium, Chancellor Heinz continued:

"…Even if our entire population couldn’t fill a single city, even if our current city could provide us with nothing more than basic necessities such as food and water, even if we need the help of our neighboring countries to heat our homes this winter…"

"But here, I want to declare to the entire world that we Germans will never surrender!"

As Chancellor Heinz’s voice fell, all the citizens of Berlin began cheering loudly.

Then, before the live cameras, under the eyes of the entire world, a ray of white light descended from the sky and slammed directly into the podium where Heinz was standing.

With a thunderous boom, the resulting shock wave turned everything within a ten-mile radius upside down.

The last surviving Germans were gone!

Germany was finished!

A group of people had survived a catastrophe, overcome countless hardships, and brought their country back to life. Then, at the very moment they announced the country’s restoration, they were wiped out—and the culprit had not even spared them a glance.

The helplessness of ordinary people before a Magnetic Field Warrior was plain to see!

Once overwhelming power could be concentrated in a single person, the era when unity was strength had completely passed!

Erik crawled up from the ground, shook his head, spat out two mouthfuls of blood, and hurried toward the next location.

A wise man did not fight when the odds were against him!

The moment he realized that T’Challa’s new White Panther Armor was likely amplified to the Seventy-Five Heavens, he immediately sank downward and plunged straight into Earth’s atmosphere.

He had originally planned to go to Wakanda and take T’Chaka and Ramonda hostage, but as soon as he entered the atmosphere, T’Challa caught up with him.

The instant they clashed, he was beaten until he suffered serious injuries and vomited blood. If not for the power of his Vibranium Magnetic Armor, T’Chaka would have killed him long ago.

After taking that blow, he did not continue fighting. Instead, he plummeted downward toward the ground. Only after reaching land, where T’Challa would have to hesitate in the face of the vast crowds, would he have a chance to escape.

Sure enough, after he fell into the city, T’Challa pursued him for a while. But with Erik focused entirely on fleeing, even he could not stop him.

In the end, the two exchanged several blows on the ground, turning the earth upside down and diverting the river. T’Challa finally gave up and stopped pursuing him.

It had to be said that the worldview a person formed from childhood had an enormous influence on them.

T’Challa had been a prince from childhood and received the education of a future ruler. He was instinctively repulsed by mass slaughter of this kind. Erik, on the other hand, had lost his father at a young age, clawed his way up from the bottom, and been tempered in the military. He had no reverence for life whatsoever.

Even after enduring countless hardships and suffering all manner of torment at Erik’s hands, T’Challa’s retaliation had been limited to Erik alone. He had not taken his anger out on anyone else.

A gentleman could be deceived through his principles.

Erik’s tactics were only effective against someone like T’Challa, a man with a moral bottom line. If he had been facing someone without scruples, someone who paid no attention to "collateral damage" and pursued him single-mindedly, escaping with his life would not have been so easy.

But although he had saved his life, his grand dream had been shattered!

Wakanda was gone!

T’Challa had made a triumphant return, acting out a new-age version of "The Prince’s Restoration." He rescued his father, T’Chaka, from the "Vibranium King" statue, restored him to normal, and helped him reclaim the throne. Then, under the witness of the entire world, he accepted the crown from his father and became Wakanda’s king.

He healed the Magnetic Field Warriors who had been captured by Erik and made into "Human Stick" Warriors, helping them restore their limbs before sending them home to their respective countries with full honors.

Those countries had originally treated the Magnetic Field Warriors as having fallen in battle. Now, a huge stroke of luck had fallen from the sky: the warriors had all returned alive.

This immediately won the favor of all the Western countries. Every kind of lavish compliment, all of it free of charge, was heaped upon T’Challa.

Their praise was not undeserved. T’Challa’s actions were fully worthy of their words.

He had set things right, overturned every system established by the "Tyrant Martial God," and completely dissolved the "Pan-African Alliance," hoping to restore the world to its former order.

He believed that making every African practice martial arts would not strengthen the countries, but only bring chaos, so he abolished the Martial Dao path and devoted himself to technological development. He also brought in large numbers of white scientists to study Vibranium Technology together.

However, he was not a fool. All the Magnetic Field Warriors who had already defected to Wakanda were absorbed into Wakanda, greatly strengthening the country’s power.

The European and American countries had already given up on Africa, but now they had regained everything they had lost. For a time, every Western media outlet rushed to Wakanda to sing T’Challa’s praises. As for whether they would attack Wakanda once the Sentinel Type-3 Robots were developed, that could be dealt with when the time came.

Erik, whose dream had been shattered and who had fled alone, holed up in some corner of a small country. Watching the media heap praise upon T’Challa while belittling and berating him, he was consumed by fury.

Especially when he asked his master for help, hoping that his master would help him reclaim the throne, only to be cursed out by Zhan Liu.

"Ask me for help?!"

"What are you even making a fuss about?"

"That’s your grand dream, not mine!"

"Whether you can achieve your dream has nothing to do with me!"

"As a War God, you still need me to help you achieve your dream? You might as well go buy a block of tofu and kill yourself by smashing your head into it!"

"I’ve already helped you once. How many more times do you want your master to help you?"

"Do you want your master to kill every enemy for you and hand the entire country over to you?"

"Look at T’Challa. Although I don’t know how he reached the Fifty Heavens, he must have gone through a great deal of torment in hell. Otherwise, there’s no way he could have achieved such a leap in Magnetic Field Rotation power!"

"Have you suffered even one-tenth of what he has?"

"If he still couldn’t defeat you after all that, then the heavens themselves would be unjust!"

"If he could crawl out of hell, why can’t you?"

"You only lost once, yet you’re acting like a beaten dog, wagging your tail and begging for mercy. You’re far inferior to that T’Challa!"

"From now on, don’t say you’re my disciple, Zhan Liu’s disciple. I can’t afford to lose face like that!"

"You want help? No!"

"But I do have a little trick that uses your life to drive your combat power. Do you want it?"

"I guarantee that once you use your life force, you’ll be able to blast that damned T’Challa to pieces despite being a realm below him! But how many days you’ll live afterward is not something I can guarantee!"

"Think it over carefully! Question your own heart and see whether you truly have the resolve!"

"If you’ve made up your mind, you can call me anytime. That’s all for now—screw your mother!"

After hanging up the phone, Erik watched T’Challa, who was being praised on television as the "Saint of Wakanda." Jealousy, hatred, envy, admiration, inferiority, powerless rage, regret, self-reproach…all kinds of emotions surged through him, making his eyes bloodshot and his gums bleed from clenching his teeth.

But these emotions were clearly still not intense enough. They were insufficient to push him to a higher realm. Besides, even if he could reach the highest realm of Ultimate Limit Qigong—the Fifty Heavens—what use would it be?

The current White Panther Armor could clearly unleash the power of the Seventy-Five Heavens. Even if he reached the Fifty Heavens, he still could not contend with T’Challa.

Could it be that he really had to use his own life to increase his attack power?

But if he exhausted his life force, what use would defeating T’Challa be? Without his own powerful support, his grand dream would still be impossible to achieve!

At that thought, he became dispirited. In a fit of powerless rage, he smashed everything in the small hotel room to vent his anger.

"Bang, bang…"

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Erik assumed it was the owner of the small hotel coming to complain and could not be bothered to respond, but a magnetic voice came from outside.

"His Majesty Killmonger, perhaps I have a way to make you stronger and help you reclaim the throne!"