Chapter 334: The Justice League and Avengers Hunt Down Allen
Boom boom boom…
The Hulk was locked in a brutal, blow-for-blow brawl with a three-meter-tall brute, his body rippling with bulging muscle.
Each punch landed with a sonic boom.
It was as if two giants were locked in a death match, and the buildings along their path were shredded like paper.
The Hulk was tough and tireless—fueled by rage, growing stronger the angrier he became.
As for the muscle-bound brute, he was evenly matched in raw strength. Blood and flesh flew in every exchange, but each shredded bit of tissue seemed semi-sentient, wriggling back to the host body and healing swiftly.
"Someone else can help out with this one."
Allen decisively steered his flying female companion toward another battlefield.
He trusted Hulk to come out on top. If he tried to help now, there was a good chance Hulk would lose his focus—and punch him instead.
Crash…
A figure burst through a wall and landed in front of Allen.
"Bro, who even are you?"
The man was black and blue, face unrecognizable—except for the iconic 'S' symbol on his chest, identifying him as Superman.
"Help me…" Clark struggled to raise a hand.
Chasing him was a metal-empowered Apostle, who said lazily, "Don't get in the way. Once I kill Superman, I'll deal with you."
Kryptonite.
Allen immediately understood why Superman was getting pummeled—the Apostle had a chunk of glowing green kryptonite embedded in his chest.
Under its radiation, Superman had essentially reverted to a normal human.
Clearly, the Church of Blood's thirteen Apostles had been specifically enhanced to counter their targets.
"Hey bro, you guys hiring?"
Allen puffed up his chest and said, "I'm all about doing big things—and I'm especially good at it. Don't believe me? Take a look."
As he spoke, deep crimson tendrils slithered out from his rear.
"What's your ability?" the Metal Apostle asked, puzzled.
"Constipation Kagune."
Snap!
Several crimson tendrils lashed out at the Apostle's limbs, coiling like pythons and locking him in place.
The Apostle glanced at them, unimpressed. "You think that's enough to beat me?"
"I never planned to beat you."
Allen shook his head casually. Then, with a sharp thrust of his hips, a green light shot forward, taking the form of a pair of pincers and snatching at the kryptonite embedded in the Apostle's chest.
"Stop!"
The Apostle panicked.
Without the kryptonite, Superman would come back with a vengeance.
But it was too late. The pincers snagged the kryptonite and retracted, tucking it away… into Allen's pants.
"You're still such a perv," said the two-headed dog, turning away in disgust. This guy's powers always had to be used in the most indecent ways.
"It's just who I am," Allen replied sheepishly.
The crimson tendrils withdrew, and the Apostle immediately tried to flee—because Clark had just risen to his feet, burning with rage.
"Big Blue, don't hold back—beat him till even his mama can't recognize him!"
Allen and the dog stood back to enjoy the show as Superman went full vengeance mode.
With a blur, Clark closed the distance and landed a casual punch. Thunk! A heavy metallic thud echoed.
The next moment, the Apostle flew backward.
Before he could hit the ground, Clark was already behind him, raining down blows at lightning speed.
Boom boom boom…
The Apostle was battered back and forth midair like a ragdoll, pummeled from every direction.
His once-shiny metallic exterior was now dented and warped, marked with crater-like fist imprints.
Once his rage had been vented, Clark stopped.
The Apostle's body looked like a piece of abstract sculpture—twisted and broken.
Now, Clark's eyes glowed with heat vision, building power as he interrogated like a wrathful god. "Who's behind this?"
"Never."
The Apostle glared back with defiance.
Clark didn't hesitate. His heat vision lashed out.
Superman's no-kill rule was flexible—non-human enemies didn't count.
And if someone killed his friends or family? Then they could expect to live just one more day—if they were lucky.
Within half an hour…
The battle was over.
Thanks largely to the timely arrival of the Ancient One, the tide had turned instantly.
On Earth, her power rivaled that of dimensional overlords. Dealing with a bunch of bioengineered monsters? Child's play.
That said, Dracula escaped.
Or more precisely, once he sensed things were going south, he slipped away quietly.
He had only joined the Church of Blood to help with the Blood God ritual—he had never intended to be loyal.
The moment he saw the Ancient One arrive, he began calculating his retreat.
"I'm going home. Don't bother calling."
With the matter resolved, the two-headed dog was eager to get out. It hurriedly drew a reverse summoning array and returned to its own multiversal realm.
Allen didn't miss a beat. "Stupid mutt, like anyone wants to call you."
"Asshole! Dumbass!!"
The dog's furious curses echoed from the magic circle before its form vanished from the mortal world.
The heroes gathered, tending to the wounded and helping each other—a rare scene of cooperation between the Justice League and the Avengers.
But when they saw Allen, the friendly atmosphere vanished. One after another, they began closing in on him with hostile faces.
"Come on now, no need to get so excited. Keeping the peace is our sacred duty," Allen said proudly.
"No one's being friendly—let my family go!"
"Give me back Aunt May—and her dentures too!"
"Spidey, keep your distance. Your mouth reeks like pickled cabbage."
"Allen, if you don't release our people now, we're done playing nice. We're all coming at you at once—no more one-on-ones."
"…"
While the heroes were crowding Allen, Lilith slipped out of the crowd and bolted toward the remaining vampires.
"Don't talk—just go."
She waved them along. "While that lunatic's distracted, get out of America—now."
The pureblood nobles understood instantly. With sheepish grins, they slinked away like thieves in the night.
It was clear—their Lord Ancestor had no intention of keeping his promise.
And honestly, their leader riding around as someone's mount? That was just humiliating.
They were noble vampires who had existed in the mortal world for thousands of years. They might live in the shadows, but pride was pride.
"Look! Black Widow's not wearing any clothes!"
Allen pointed dramatically in one direction.
"Where? Where?!"
"There's no one there—he lied!"
"Where'd the lunatic go?!"
"…"
Everyone snapped out of it—Allen was gone.
Immediately, the search began. Heroes scattered in every direction, unleashing all kinds of tracking abilities.
"Yoo-hoo!"
Allen dropped his invisibility and playfully taunted them. "Come catch me!"
"Get him! I've had it with this guy."
"Trying to reason with this maniac is useless—we have to beat him."
"If we don't thrash him today, I'm quitting the hero biz."
"…"
They'd had enough.
Every hero reached the same conclusion—beating up this madman was absolutely necessary. If they didn't, they'd never be able to sleep.
"I'm the man you'll never catch!"
Allen dashed away gleefully, waving his hands as he ran, still babbling: "I remember running into the sunset… That was my lost youth!"
The next day, this became headline news on every major broadcast.
Many journalists, fearing nothing, had rushed toward the danger to capture footage.
After all, the Justice League and Avengers jointly hunting a lunatic was the perfect viral story.
Civilians filmed the chaos from the safety of their homes, and videos went viral overnight across major short-video platforms.
Just like that, Allen became world-famous.
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