[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-marvel-the-villain":3,"chapter-marvel-the-villain-marvel-the-villain-chapter-154":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Marvel: The Villain",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":20,"prevChapterSlug":21,"totalChapters":22,"novelImage":23},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":16,"volume":17,"translator":18,"content_hash":19},1085794,1417,"Chapter 154 154","marvel-the-villain-chapter-154",154,"\u003Cp>The United States is the world's top oil-refining powerhouse, churning out nearly a billion tons of crude annually—about a fifth of global capacity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From east to west, refineries dot the landscape like fucking stars, keeping gas prices dirt-cheap for Americans.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>10 p.m. Eastern Time, Philadelphia Energy Solutions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The biggest, oldest refinery on the East Coast, it's a top-ten beast nationwide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With over 150 years of history, it employs more than 1,000 workers, processing 335,000 barrels of crude daily into gasoline, diesel, jet fuel, and other petrochemicals.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At 10 p.m., while fat-cat capitalists snore, the refinery's workers are still grinding. Two more hours till they clock out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the gate, two security guards yawn, pacing lazily.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sleep's hitting hard—they could use a cigarette to stay sharp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In any other factory, getting caught smoking might earn a chewing-out. Here? Light up, and you're spending your life in prison.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One guard rubs his face hard, then hears a faint sound in the distance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Both squint, spotting two bright lights speeding toward the refinery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Car headlights.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They relax, but curiosity kicks in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Who the fuck's coming to a refinery this late?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Minutes later, two tanker trucks roll up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One guard asks, \"Any scheduled tankers tonight?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other shakes his head. \"Not that I know of.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Fuck it, then. Send 'em packing.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first guard steps into the road, waving a \"STOP\" sign at the trucks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Refineries are high-risk, so security's tight as hell. That red stop sign carries weight—vehicles stop, or guards can use lethal force, guns included.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But shit gets weird. The lead tanker doesn't stop—it floors it, barreling forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Shit! Stop! You fucking blind?!\" The guard yells, waving harder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tanker ignores him, speeding up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fuck. Trouble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Panic hits. The guard dives out of the way, grabbing his sidearm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tanker's window rolls down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A joker-masked figure levels a shotgun out the window.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bang!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A blast of fire erupts, hundreds of pellets slamming into the guard's chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hits the ground, chest screaming like a swarm of bees stung him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thank fuck for the bulletproof vest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tries to roll for cover, but another shot rings out—this time at his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bang!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His skull explodes, gray brain matter mixing with blood and flesh, splattering the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fucking semi-auto shotgun, he thinks as he dies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The joker-masked bastard repeats the process, dropping the second guard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tankers smash through the iron gate, roaring into the refinery.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shotgun blasts shatter the night, drowning out the factory's hum. Workers and guards hear it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alarms blare across the refinery. Over a hundred guards sprint to the armory, grabbing vests and rifles, rushing to the entrance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Screech!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tires burn as the tankers skid to a stop. A dozen joker-masked figures jump out, armed with light and heavy weapons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These are the Joker Organization's Philadelphia crew—Black, White, Native American, Mexican, Chinese, you name it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bottom line: they're the downtrodden, hopeless poor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Leading them? The Joker Organization's head honcho—Jason Walter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No mask, no weapons, Jason hops off the truck empty-handed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He waves, and the jokers lug black backpacks forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Each pack's loaded with kilos of explosives. This is a suicide terror attack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Looking at their goofy joker faces, Jason says, dead serious, \"Stick to the plan. I'll handle the guards. You move.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Facing death, the jokers nod without hesitation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They've got no hope left—no fear of dying. They just want to take a chunk out of the capitalists before they go.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You're the vanguard purifying this world. Your sacrifice will go down in history, a warning to the future!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason bows deeply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The jokers return the gesture, tighten their packs, grab their weapons, and scatter to their targets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching them go, Jason's lips curl into a smile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let the killing begin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He activates his power, floating dozens of meters into the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From up high, his superhuman vision maps out the guards' positions and routes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rockets toward the nearest squad.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nearby, a dozen guards in heavy bulletproof gear and riot helmets waddle like fat penguins, taking cover near a workshop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They're here for a paycheck, not to play hero. No one's dumb enough to go toe-to-toe with Jason's crew.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their plan: hunker down, hold the workshop, suppress the enemy with gunfire, and wait for police backup.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That's all the job's worth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Called it in yet?\" One asks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Done. Police choppers are minutes out.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That fast?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"No shit. This refinery's owned by old-money capitalists—Philly's top taxpayers. The second they heard trouble, the cops tripped over themselves to get here.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Pfft. Cops won't do shit against the Joker Organization.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"They're not all superpowered freaks. These are probably Philly newbies—desperate nobodies. Bet you most are black.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Shit, say that louder and you're fired.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Nah, we're all white here. Who's gonna snitch for them?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As they bullshit, Jason drops from the sky, slamming the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bang!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The guards look up, stunned.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fuck. Who jinxed it? You fucking summoned the Joker boss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They snap out of it, grabbing heavy weapons and unloading on Jason.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason's powers and limits are public knowledge—media and socials obsess over it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These guards even got training on it. Bottom line: hit him with enough firepower to overwhelm his absorption limit, and you can repel or kill him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In America, heavy weapons are everywhere. These guards have military-grade gear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To protect the refinery, the big bosses ordered short-barreled rocket launchers from Stark Industries, loaded with special anti-Jason rounds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These eight-kilo rockets aren't packed with regular explosives but Stark's custom blend—eight times stronger than TNT.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Data says one direct hit would blast Jason to pieces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the guards confidently aim their launchers, Jason scratches his head, annoyed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These fucking experts and their math.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Never mind that he's mastered energy absorption and release—those eight-kilo rockets can't break his energy shield.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if they could, he's not a dumbass. He can dodge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Combat isn't won on paper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sharp whistles cut the air as the custom rockets scream toward him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason bends his knees and rockets skyward like a firecracker.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One missile won't break him, but a dozen could tear him apart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He'd already pooled energy in his feet before the guards fired.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the air, he glances back and nearly curses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The fucking rockets curved, chasing him into the sky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Guided single-soldier rockets—his goddamn kryptonite. Stark Industries knows how to make a buck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason's pissed but not worried.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like he said, battle's more than numbers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With a thought, most of his energy surges out, forming a pale blue shield around him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rest pools in his palms.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gather, compress, gather, compress…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A glowing blue orb forms in his hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Kamehameha!\" He yells, some random-ass phrase popping into his head, and fires the compressed orb.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A blue laser, thick as an arm, tears through the night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Boom!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It pierces several rockets, igniting red fireballs in the dark.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Fuck yeah!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason repeats the move, forming energy orbs in both hands, blasting left and right.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Boom! Boom!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More explosions. Every rocket's destroyed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>pat reon.com\u002FGreenBlue17\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>500 power stones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Top 50. All time.\u003C\u002Fp>",1191,"2026-06-03T10:55:04.460Z","2026-06-03T10:55:13.643Z",1,"novelbin.me","631f065c722839fb05c12ad91c80c292cb3a56b66a937ca99a8c8d931c6d3671","marvel-the-villain-chapter-110","marvel-the-villain-chapter-109",310,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmarvel-the-villain-cover.jpg"]