7 Chapter 7: Humanoid Mech

Marshal Stacker Pentecost, tall and dressed in the crisp uniform of the Pacific Joint Military Defense Force Marshal, stood outside a treatment room behind a transparent glass wall. He opened a small box he carried, took out a radiation treatment pill, placed it at his thick lips, rolled it into his mouth, swallowed it with a gulp.

After swallowing the pill, Stacker gaze pierced through the glass wall and fell upon H'el, who lay on a metal table. His eyes betrayed a sense of wonder.

A meteorite falling from the sky... but it was a person.

"Falling from the sky..."

Stacker muttered with a slightly serious expression.

He couldn't forget the moment when he ordered his subordinates to rescue H'el from the meteorite crater. Five people couldn't budge him, and several soldiers were drenched in sweat, panting heavily, and called him a monster.

In the end, they had to use a crane to lift him out and transfer him to the treatment room.

A human body, with a weight exceeding a thousand kilograms, truly terrifying.

Standing outside the transparent glass wall, Stacker had just been joined by Dr. Cery, the medical doctor in charge of the treatment room. She had charming facial features, clear eyes, and her red lips exuded an icy allure. She wore a tight-fitting sweater that accentuated her full figure, a red vintage leather skirt below, and her long legs were encased in black stockings. She completed the outfit with black platform high-heels. Draped in a white lab coat, she looked classic yet naturally beautiful, striding confidently down the path of fashion.

Holding a thick report in her hand, Dr. Cery's face was flushed with excitement, her eyes gleaming with enthusiasm as she walked out of the treatment room. She approached Stacker, her heart racing uncontrollably.

"Marshal, this is truly amazing. It's hard to believe that one person could weigh 1,700 kilograms, 1.7 tons..."

Dr. Cery's normally cool demeanor was disrupted by her extreme excitement. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were sparkling. Her heartbeats were so rapid that they threatened to leap out of her chest.

The gravitational pull of Krypton was already more than ten times that of Earth, and H'el, despite working in the Science Institute, was far from the stereotypical scrawny scientist. He was tall, and Kryptonian body mass, even without exposure to sunlight, was already around 100 kilograms. Exposure to Earth's sun further activated Kryptonian genes, causing a significant increase in cell density.

Superman, Clark Kent, who had grown up on Earth, wouldn't weigh a mere 100 kilograms either.

All of this was due to the influence of the bio-magnetic field.

In fact, if Kryptonian cells weren't regulated by the bio-magnetic field, theoretically, they would absorb solar energy, causing the body mass and energy to become increasingly interconnected and significantly heavier.

Kryptonians' bio-magnetic field regulated their physical form.

Otherwise, with Superman's body energy, it would form a gravitational pull, much like the evolution of stars, absorbing everything around them. Eventually, it would lead to gravitational collapse, creating a nuclear fusion reaction, and ultimately exploding into a nebula. Or it could create a delicate balance and become the core of a massive star.

The fact that Kryptonians could maintain a humanoid form and remain unharmed was all thanks to the bio-magnetic field, a balance encoded in their genes from the very beginning.

"I understand, Dr. Cery. I'm the one who ordered him to be lifted with a crane, stop saying things i already know," Marshal interrupted Dr. Cery's excessively enthusiastic tone. He hadn't seen this medical doctor, who was usually so reserved and didn't speak much, be so talkative before.

"And his physical condition, strength, the extent of his destructive power, and how long until he awakens." Marshal Stark reminded her.

Marshal found it hard to imagine someone weighing 1,700 kilograms and still being human-shaped. This meant that this individual possessed a strength of at least 2,000 kilograms or more, although this was insignificant compared to any mech. However, a person of this weight would have a nervous system capable of enduring ten times the intensity of an ordinary person.

So, he can pilot a mech by himself, even more effortlessly than any pilot, maybe even dance a tango with ease.

This means he could become a mech hunter, the nightmare of all monsters.

He could become the most powerful mech hunter.

If he's willing, Marshal can allocate all available funds to build an ultra-powerful mech for him, to drive those monsters back into the depths of the sea trench.

Marshal had been fixated on closing the rifts that led monsters to Earth and never imagined that this man, whom he believed could be the ultimate mech pilot, would surpass his expectations by far.

"Hmm? Mmm!" Dr. Cery shot Marshal a disdainful look, knowing that his heart was set on eradicating the monsters. She refrained from providing information he wasn't interested in.

"Stacker, the person lying in there right now, his body can't be cut with a surgical knife, bullets won't penetrate him, and I suspect that missiles might not even be able to blow him apart. He possesses an ironclad body." Dr. Cery's breath was heavy as she turned to look at the perfect physique behind the glass. Her long, slender fingers pressed against the glass wall, her nails turning white, and her face flushed.

This was a perfect creation, Dr. Cery was certain.

"Missiles can't blow him apart...?" Marshal Stark nodded slightly in contemplation, not entirely agreeing with her statement.

A body with a mass density of 1,700 kilograms, impervious to surgical knives, and potentially bullets, was believable. However, the notion that missiles couldn't affect him seemed far-fetched.

Marshal Stacker could only attribute it to Dr. Cery's lack of knowledge about the power of modern weaponry.

Dr. Cery's face looked extremely abnormal, and her lips curled up in a half-smile, her eyes shimmering like they were breathing. "Standard instruments can't accurately detect his body's data."

"I used a magnetic wave spectrum detector and made a shocking discovery."

"His body is changing, evolving into something more powerful with every passing moment. He's like... like a star undergoing an astonishing transformation."

"It's unimaginable that cells could move to such an extreme degree."

"His body's magnetic field is simply astonishing."

Marshal furrowed his brow, looking at the fervent Dr. Cery, and felt a headache coming on.

Previously, he had only heard rumors about Dr. Cery having a "freakish" side. While he had been skeptical, since arriving at Anchorage Base, Dr. Cery had shown little abnormality aside from her medical expertise and her stunning, fashionable attire. Now, it seemed like he was witnessing her "freakish" side in action...

Marshal cleared his throat softly, putting a halt to Dr. Cery's peculiar fascination. "Dr. Cery, please tell me about his health condition and when he might awaken. Just give me information about his strength and destructive potential."

Marshal didn't expect this man, who had fallen from the sky, to be particularly benevolent. However, since the individual appeared human, it elicited some goodwill. Still, he needed to know about his strength, destructive capability, and any limitations on his actions once he awoke.

He couldn't allow this inexplicable man to wreak havoc at Anchorage Base.

"I don't know. His body is changing, and his magnetic field is adapting. When his magnetic field adjusts, he should choose to wake up. I believe he's been awake, conscious, and perhaps even aware of his surroundings, able to hear us." Dr. Cery's fervent expression showed no signs of changing. Her alluring face, flushed with cold allure, seemed like it wanted to embrace and meld with someone else.

Marshal didn't dare look at Dr. Cery any longer. She was indeed quite unusual, and it appeared her mental state was problematic, confirming the suspicions of the people from Harvard. Dr. Cery might very well be a freak.

He wished that Dr. Cery would channel this eccentricity into researching the monsters. Unfortunately, she seemed interested only in the human body.

Marshal turned his gaze back to H'el inside the glass wall. "In that case... I hope you're really awake and that when you awaken, we can have a peaceful conversation."

"Stark, regarding his strength data..."

As she spoke, Dr. Cery placed both hands on the glass wall. Files slid down her ample bosom, quivering like pudding. Her ten fingers pressed against the glass, her nails turning pale, and the glass reflected her blood-red, cold, alluring face. Her breath even became heavy.

"Based on the data I detected from his body, he has at least 8,000 tons of strength!"

When Marshal heard this figure, his eyes widened in shock ss he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "8,000 kilograms?"

Initially, he wanted to say 8,000 pounds, but even that would only be around 3.6 tons, which would be an underestimate for a person weighing 1,700 kilograms. So, he unconsciously uttered "8,000 kilograms."

He was so shocked that his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"No! It's 8,000 tons! I believe this is just his baseline strength, like what we have when we throw a casual punch." Dr. Cery pressed against the glass wall, bringing her face close, her eyes fixed intently on the perfect physique, exuding a mesmerizing fascination.

Initially, she thought she had miscalculated.

But mathematics doesn't lie. There was a significant amount of blood in the meteorite crater, and she had examined the cells, using all the medical instruments available here, including ones for detecting thermal nuclear electromagnetic waves and those for analyzing mechs. She had used everything.

After analyzing and calculating, based on theoretical values, the lowest estimate for his baseline strength was indeed 8,000 tons.

The moment she learned this figure, she was on the verge of going insane.

Every discovery about his cells, every piece of information, would be worthy of a Nobel Prize. No, what's a Nobel Prize compared to this beloved physique? Each aspect of him was like breaking the mold of cellular existence.

This was a perfect man.

This was a perfect being.

This was the beloved child of the heavens and the earth.

This was an entire civilization.

This was a God! 

Dr. Cery was a medical doctor and a Ph.D., and she understood that 8,000 tons of strength were indeed incredibly powerful, capable of effortlessly lifting an 80-meter-high mech.

But the significance of having 8,000 tons of strength, the implications within the body's physical and cellular depths, were far more meaningful than just 8,000 tons of strength.

The man lying on the steel table was a treasure trove, the direction of humanity's future evolution, the path forward for human civilization, a marvel of human civilization, a superhuman, and above all, a potential leader of humanity!

Marshal stared with his characteristic expression, his mouth open wide enough to swallow an egg, his thoughts almost paralyzed by shock.

If he truly possessed this kind of strength...

What use did he have for a mech?

He, by himself, was the mech.

He, by himself, was a mech that exceeded trillions of dollars in funding.

For a long time, Marshal couldn't regain his composure. His mind was in such disarray that he couldn't even think about how to face this human-shaped mech.

It wasn't until the Chief Technical Advisor, Tendo, found him and said, "Marshal Stacker, all the nations in the Pacific Rim Joint Defense Force have suddenly called for a meeting. Please go to the conference room quickly."

Marshal Stacker suddenly became calm, his mind finally reacting.