Marvel: What If Thanos Adopted A Saiyan?
Chapter 158 - 159: Look Me in the Eyes, Bastard

Chapter 158: Chapter 159: Look Me in the Eyes, Bastard

Sakaar. Another peaceful day.

The thundering explosions no longer startled the locals. The people of Sakaar went about their business—eating, drinking—utterly unfazed, their panic long since numbed by familiarity.

"How long do you think Hela can last this time?"

Leaning lazily against the viewing platform, the Grandmaster watched the two figures locked in "combat" below. His fingers twitched with the urge to start a betting pool.

"One minute?"

"Maybe two?"

"Probably... a minute at most, I’d say..."

After several days together, Jennifer’s wariness toward the Grandmaster had quietly faded. Of all those present, she alone held a status that allowed her to speak to him on relatively equal footing.

Zora was a slave. The Other was a subordinate of Lothar. And Woz... well, Woz was cut from the same cloth as The Other. Only Jennifer, once the rebel leader of Gafa, had any business sharing words with a ruler.

"Care to wager on it?" he asked with a smirk. "Say... if you lose, you stay here on Sakaar and work for me?"

The Grandmaster turned toward her, eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. His eagerness made Jennifer shift uncomfortably.

"Grandmaster, my master told me about you," she declined politely.

Unpredictable, power-hungry, and a bully at heart, he wasn’t the kind of boss she wanted.

"Ah, I see..." The Grandmaster nodded, feigning understanding, before turning his gaze back to the match below, his fingers interlaced over the railing as his eyes sparkled with interest.

The vast arena was coated in frost.

Even empowered by the divinity of death, Forgiveness of the Goddess of Death had utterly failed to harm Lothar.

"Haah..."

Hela landed silently with a backflip to ease the momentum, her chest heaving as her breathing grew ragged.

"This ends now."

Lothar’s voice crept up behind her like a shadow. Eyes wide with shock, Hela spun around, only to find a corded arm already in front of her.

What?!

When did he—?!

A rough hand clamped around her throat. The crushing force dropped her like a stone, her body slamming into the ground under the weight of his grip!

Her black bodysuit, etched with arcane runes, scraped and tore as she was dragged across the shattered arena floor. In Lothar’s grasp, the once-dreaded goddess looked more like a ragdoll, trailing a long gouge through the stone.

BAM!

Lothar slammed her against the stone wall at the edge of the arena.

"That’s thirty-three. You’ve lost again." Energy crackled around his fingers, still pressed to her neck. He tilted his chin slightly, lips curled into that same smug grin that made her blood boil.

"Tch."

Hela turned her head away, unwilling to see that prideful expression.

"Unbelievable! Prince Lothar is invincible!"

"The Princess of Asgard didn’t even land a single blow!"

In the stands, The Other repeated the same line he’d uttered thirty-two times before. Beside him, Woz, feet dangling, legs too short for the chair, chugged a barrel of motor oil half his size.

"Stop drinking, Woz. It’s over."

The Other nudged the little cat-robot’s belly with his staff. Oil still dripping from his lips, Woz blinked up in confusion, big eyes wide and innocent.

"What?"

"I just started..."

"It’s already over?"

His plump face was full of disbelief.

Hela, limping off the battlefield, heard him and clenched her jaw in silent frustration.

Not even enough time for that thing to finish a barrel of oil... How humiliating.

It took Woz three minutes to finish one barrel. That meant she hadn’t even lasted three minutes against the newly evolved Prince Lothar?

Even Woz could last that long piloting a mech!

Woz puffed up with pride, though it had only lasted that long because Lothar had gone easy, but pride was pride.

"Hey. Your plan’s failed, hasn’t it?"

Lothar leaned casually against the railing, teasing Woz who hopped and flailed to reach the oil barrel he was holding just out of reach. He asked the question without looking back.

They’d been on Sakaar for fifteen days now. The center of Sakaar had grown used to the quakes their daily "warm-ups" caused. And Ego still hadn’t shown up.

Even "Ego: The Second Edition Photobook" had sold out after its launch. And still, no sign of the man himself.

"Who knows."

Hela gave the Grandmaster a subtle look. He nodded slightly, made an excuse, and returned to the central control room, where he deactivated the concealed energy shield that had been hiding Sakaar.

"Maybe he’s been looking for the entrance to Sakaar all this time," she mused, rubbing her wrist as she looked up at the brilliant blue sky. For a moment, a smile tugged at her lips.

"What did you say?"

Lothar’s hand froze, brow furrowing as he turned back, but Hela was already walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"Shower. Want to come?" she called over her shoulder, waving without looking back. Lothar snorted dismissively.

Who cared about showers?

"Lothar, about you and Ego—" Jennifer began, still seated on the railing beside her people, Zora.

"If you’re going to tell me to drop it, I’ll kill you too."

His voice was cold and deliberate, and the killing intent behind his words made her fall silent.

"I get it," she said with a shrug, leaping down from the railing.

"Let’s go, Zora."

"Huh? Oh, coming!" Zora scrambled after her, bewildered.

"Lothar," Jennifer called just before leaving the arena. She looked up at the deep blue sky overhead.

"What?"

"Don’t die. I’m no match for my master, I can’t send you off this planet if things go bad."

"I thought you’d tell me to spare Ego."

"I have nothing to do with him anymore. Not since he helped Rodus, King of Gafa." She brushed her bangs aside, short wine-red hair gleaming under the sun as she smiled brightly.

...

Sakaar Control Room.

Hela stepped inside, freshly showered, settling into a chair and crossing her legs. "Well, Grandmaster? Has Ego arrived?"

With the planetary cloaking field down, Ego should’ve found them by now.

But the Grandmaster didn’t answer.

"Grandmaster?"

A spike of instinct sent her hands flying, two obsidian blades shot from her palms toward the man’s back.

"You realized it. As expected of Odin’s daughter!"

The voice was unmistakably Ego’s.

Hela’s expression didn’t change. Her blades paved a path as she retreated swiftly.

"It’s already too late."

The cold voice sent a chill down her spine. Slim silver tendrils, thinner than during the Gafa incident, reached out to ensnare her limbs.

"Is that so?"

"I don’t think so."

With a shrug, Hela smashed through the wall of the control room!

Amid the cascade of shattered stone, her graceful body landed with pinpoint precision back in the gladiatorial arena below.

Descending slowly, Ego followed her, clad in silver-trimmed white robes, face cold and emotionless.

"LOOK AT ME!" he commanded.

Hela raised an eyebrow and slicked her hair back like she was about to throw hands.

"Confess your sins to me!"

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