Job done, pack up and call it a day.

It seemed as though Jos’s cry for help had worked, but in truth, before he uttered a sound, a seething, fiery terror had already engulfed the body of the Apocalypse-version Hydra completely! The one who intervened was none other than Jean Grey, the Phoenix, the powerhouse of the X-Men!

Though Jos had called out a list of big shots on a whim, only Jean Grey was compelled to act, as the mutant school was also located in New York. Yet, her overwhelming strength alone was more than sufficient. Even though she had not fully mastered her Phoenix Force, her involvement signaled that the X-Men would not stand idly by.

As the Phoenix Force soared, a blazing scarlet beam shot from a distance, striking Apocalypse—Cyclops was lending his aid. Fireballs, frost, iron spikes—abilities of every kind erupted in dazzling variety, and with the superheroes, who had been waiting on the sidelines, unleashing their signature moves, the unending barrage instantly drowned Apocalypse’s body.

“Damn you! You are mutants! You are the noble, magnificent mutants! How can you stand with humans?!”

Apocalypse’s roar of fury and agony echoed incessantly, but he was utterly powerless. To attempt a resurrection right under the noses of so many powerhouses—Jos could only remark, “You really are stubborn.”

Undeniably, Apocalypse’s plan to seize a body was sound, but his timing was poor. This new vessel lasted only three minutes and twelve seconds (Time Master’s authoritative proof!), before being destroyed into a mangled, bloody form.

When the heroes ceased their assault, Apocalypse was left without the strength to move a finger, lying on the ground with more breath leaving than entering him, clearly close to death.

“You cannot defeat Apocalypse… I am immortal, indestructible. One day, I will return with my knights to bring doom to your pathetic world!”

Though his life was fading fast, Apocalypse did not despair at the failure of his plan; instead, he laughed loudly at those present. No one could stop his rebirth—over the six thousand years he had lived, even suicide had been impossible for him.

This endless life was both a blessing and a curse, but as he said, he would return.

“Return, you say? You must not have heard the phrase ‘when a man is killed, he dies,’ have you?” Jos, dragging his great sword, drew closer to Apocalypse.

“Ha! Unfortunately, I am not a man—I am a god! The god of mutants!”

“Oh! The god of mutants, are you?” Jos repeated with exaggerated surprise.

“I am the god of mutants!” Apocalypse snarled, repeating himself.

“Shut up, you parrot! You love repeating yourself so much, I can tell you’re just a man! Prepare to die!” Before the words had faded, Jos swung his sword and severed Apocalypse’s head, claiming the kill under the watchful gaze of all.

Yet, not a single person present, not even Apocalypse himself, understood the true meaning of Jos’s last exchange with him, and no one cared to dig deeper. Only Jos, eyeing the system panel’s notification, suppressed his inner joy.

[Apocalypse killed completely. Special reward granted.]

Jos did not rush to check the reward. He caught his breath, greeted Steve and the others, then found a place to rest.

That final conversation was not idle banter, but a calculated effort to trigger the UR skill he had painstakingly acquired—[When a man is killed, he dies]. As the skill’s description plainly stated, within its range, if a man is killed, he dies.

But determining whether someone is “a man” is a subtle matter. In the X-Men world, whether mutants count as human has long been a central issue of conflict. Moreover, in the Marvel universe, with its myriad bizarre creatures—many intelligent but far from human in appearance—what counts as “a man” is hard to judge.

Yet the skill itself is not a philosophical debate: when activated, if one can prove the target is “a man,” it can be used. In essence, whether by sophistry or by physical verification, as long as one proves or gets the target to admit they are human, the skill bypasses any immortality and executes the kill.

How to prove it and whether the skill accepts the result—that’s Jos’s headache. Of course, this skill is useless against regeneration or resurrection. It only kills once; whether the target revives or turns zombie is another matter entirely.

With Hydra—or rather, Apocalypse—dead, the war was nearing its end. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, working alongside some superheroes, were wrapping up. Even Nick Fury appeared, grinning, mingling with people of all sorts.

Judging by his smile, he clearly took the opportunity to purge Hydra agents from S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Tsk, tsk. I suppose they’ll need to recruit heavily again. Who knows if S.H.I.E.L.D. will function tomorrow?” Jos quipped, but he didn’t bother with them. After greeting Steve, he activated [Coo Coo Coo] and retreated home.

Superheroes didn’t need to hold press conferences after the fact; most extraordinary people were used to coming and going as they pleased, uninterested in such ceremonies. With the crisis over, they simply returned to their lives.

After greeting Lilith at home, Jos went to the bathroom to wash off the grime, only to be kicked by Little Black as he emerged.

“Speaking of which, what exactly is that special reward?” Apocalypse’s appearance had been abrupt and anticlimactic, leaving Jos with little sense of reality, but a reward was tangible, so he quickly opened his system panel to check.

[Name: Apocalypse-Style Hairdressing]
[Rarity: SSR]
[Effect: Give the target a new hairstyle, greatly enhancing their abilities. You can maintain up to four people’s hair at once.]

Just a few lines, but Jos was stunned. Apocalypse’s greatest power was not his mediocre telepathy or sand manipulation, but his ability to enhance others!

Where’s the best hairdressing in the world? Find Apocalypse in the Egyptian pyramids!