Marvel : The God Of Punishment System

Jason hadn't expected the Ancient One to seek him out first.

Her opening words cut straight to the point: "You killed Odin's two sons?"

Jason shook his head quickly. "How is that possible? That old man is terrifying—why would I mess with his children?"

The Ancient One nodded. "Good. If Asgard launched an assault, I could hold Odin back, but his armies would steamroll you."

Jason hesitated before asking tentatively, "Master, hypothetically speaking... could I trade his sons for something valuable?"

The Ancient One gave him a strange look. "You're planning to blackmail the All-Father?"

"No!" Jason waved his hands frantically. "I would never resort to such underhanded tactics!"

He continued, "Look, there's this hammer—Mjolnir. Odin declared that whoever can lift it shall wield its power. But he probably didn't expect me to be there! I lifted it fair and square, yet I'm worried he'll go back on his word and forcibly reclaim it. What should I do?"

"You want to trade this hammer for his sons?" the Ancient One asked incredulously.

"Exactly!" Jason brightened. "I have these two strapping young Asgardians. Perhaps you could mediate a discussion with Odin? If he agrees, we could formalize it with proper documentation. What do you say?"

"Hmph! What business is this of mine?" the Ancient One replied dismissively.

"Master, when those hell demon invaded New York, I was the one who helped you repel them! You can't just pull out... I mean, you can't abandon me after I've helped you!"

Jason added, "Besides, last time you promised to teach me mystical arts, but didn't even leave me a contact number. Clearly, your intentions weren't genuine!"

The Ancient One rolled her eyes. "Your pettiness is unbecoming for someone with aspirations. Odin might honor his word and give you the hammer freely. But I will never accept threats from you."

"Master, do you truly believe he'll keep his promise?"

The Ancient One glanced at Mjolnir beside Jason and shook her head. "No."

"Then what should I do? Beg him?" Jason's eyes widened in disbelief.

"It's an option."

"Impossible! Absolutely not!" Jason exclaimed, then paused thoughtfully. "What if... I offered to train his sons? What do you think he might—"

"That reckless brute and the silver-tongued trickster?"

Jason considered this carefully. Gods and demons like Odin and Mephisto seemed to share a common trait: failed parenting, with children constantly eyeing their thrones.

The Ancient One nodded approvingly. "If you can genuinely improve his sons, this plan might work."

Jason perked up. Perfect. A dose of harsh reality from humanity's bottom would wake these godlings up!

In Asgard, Odin exhaled with relief upon sensing his sons' presence again.

He returned to his Odinsleep.

Before departing, Jason requested a mystical restraint from the Ancient One to suppress Loki's powers.

He released the brothers, ignoring Loki's protests about being divine while mortals remained beneath them, and summoned Frank. "Take these two to experience some honest, back-breaking labor!"

Ring ring...

Freeman called Jason yet again.

The president was desperate to avoid his term ending in disgrace. As America's first African American president, he refused to go quietly into obscurity.

He'd been persistently trying to convince Jason to support him publicly, hoping to secure the same favor Jason had shown by pledging neutrality toward mutants.

But the tables had turned, Mr. President!

Unless...

Over the phone, Freeman asked curiously, "Wakanda? What is that? Is it somewhere in America?"

"Wakanda is an African nation, Mr. President!"

"An African country?"

Jason chuckled. "Though it appears to be a small tribal nation, in reality, it's the wealthiest, most advanced, technologically superior country on Earth!"

"Impossible!" Freeman shouted. "The most advanced nation on this planet is clearly America! How many aircraft carriers does this Wakanda have?"

"Wakanda possesses no aircraft carriers, but they maintain an energy shield encompassing their entire territory, concealing their existence from the world. They possess advanced aircraft capable of outmatching any military on Earth."

"That's preposterous!" Freeman exclaimed.

"Not at all, Mr. President. Are you familiar with vibranium?"

"The metal worth $10,000 per gram?"

"Do you know how much vibranium Wakanda possesses?"

Freeman's voice turned hoarse as realization dawned. "How much?"

"Their reserves exceed 10,000 tons!"

"Hiss!" Freeman's breath caught for several seconds before he started panting heavily.

"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely," Jason laughed. "Calculate the monetary value, Mr. President. Even at massive discount rates, that's enough wealth to sustain the entire United States indefinitely! If you could secure these resources for America, they'd carve your face alongside the four presidents on Mount Rushmore!"

Silence stretched uncomfortably long.

Finally, Freeman asked with difficulty, "If they're truly that powerful, why haven't they conquered the world?"

"Because of their profound arrogance, Mr. President. Can you conceive of a people hiding behind energy barriers, smugly watching the world's struggles?

Where wars rage, they mock the combatants as barbarians too primitive to understand civilization. Where famine strikes, they ridicule those too incompetent to feed themselves. Even when Americans celebrate our technological achievements, they observe from their hiding spot, dismissing us as 'backward' and 'ignorant'!

They view everyone outside Wakanda as beneath them, hence their total isolation. They regard us all as inferiors.

Additionally, their population is insufficient for global conquest. Despite superior technology and elite warriors, they lack the numbers to dominate the outside world."

The phone remained silent for a long moment.

Then Freeman's voice returned, seething with rage: "During the transatlantic slave trade, did they simply watch as my ancestors were enslaved?"

"I believe so, Mr. President."

"During both World Wars, did they observe tens of millions perish without intervention?"

"Indeed, Mr. President."

"They witnessed human suffering, bloodshed, anguish, struggle, and torment, yet did nothing?"

"...Yes, Mr. President!"

"They're unworthy of humanity! Not part of our species—just a collection of unevolved simians! They're enemies of this world, heartless and ungrateful parasites! Damn them all...!"

"Absolutely, Mr. President!"

"So, Mr. Jason, do you have their location or any intelligence?"

"Of course, Mr. President!"

Jason had already extracted Wakanda's information from SHIELD's archives. They'd been tracking vibranium's source and discovered an anomaly in Africa.

He transmitted all available data to Freeman.

Jason had long calculated that keeping Freeman in office served his interests. Their clandestine dealings created mutual benefits and shared interests.

Similarly, if Freeman could claim Wakanda for America, Jason would profit immensely. With Freeman's backing and the Avengers' reputation, whatever belonged to Wakanda would effectively become theirs, wouldn't it?

That evening, shocking news exploded from the White House:

An American soldier vanished mysteriously during a covert mission in Wakanda, a small African nation. The United States demanded an explanation, but this tiny country audaciously challenged American authority, claiming ignorance of any incident.

Consequently, the U.S. House, Senate, White House, and Pentagon rapidly authorized the deployment of three aircraft carriers to Africa.

They vowed to seek justice for the missing soldier: find them alive or recover their body!

This announcement bewildered the international community, but nobody was more confused than Wakanda's current monarch, King T'Chaka.

He learned of these events through news broadcasts and newspapers.

What the hell? The United States never contacted me about this!

How could I forget something like this?

Moreover, your soldier allegedly infiltrated Wakanda and disappeared—shouldn't I be demanding explanations? Yet you're the one making demands?

Do you respect international law or basic decency?

This is textbook bullying!

Despite his protests, the American military machine was already in motion.

As global confusion mounted, a familiar bombastic figure emerged:

J. Jonah Jameson, owner of the Daily Bugle.

He ranted on television as usual: "Folks, what I'm about to say is no conspiracy theory—it's a fact! Somewhere out there, a secret cabal is watching us like ants in a jar! That's right—watching! They sit on a mountain of treasure, a cosmic gift meant for all of humanity! And what do they do? They hoard it! They claim it, lock it away, and then look down on the rest of us from their ivory tower like we're beneath them! This is nothing short of theft on a galactic scale!"

He displayed drone footage showing a vast forest. Suddenly, the aircraft struck an invisible barrier, sparked, and plummeted.

A blue energy shield momentarily flickered into view.

Jameson thundered, eyes blazing with fury. "Ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves—because what I'm about to say needs to be heard! The nation hoarding this miracle? These smug isolationists? They call themselves Wakanda!"

"To my fellow African Americans—think about this. For centuries, you were captured, enslaved, brutalized, and murdered. And all the while, Wakanda watched. They had the power. The technology. The weapons. They could've ended the suffering. But they chose silence!"

"To the world at large—every disease you've battled, every famine, every war fought with sticks and stones while Wakanda sat on sci-fi weaponry and miracle tech... all of it, preventable! They had the means to help! But did they? No! Why? Not because of wisdom, compassion, or merit—but because of selfishness, secrecy, and pure, calculated greed!"

"That meteorite, that vibranium—that wasn't meant to be buried and hidden. It was a gift! A cosmic blessing! And they stole it from the world!"

"So remember this: our suffering wasn't just overlooked—it was allowed. And the cure? The cure was in Wakanda all along!"

As Jameson's rage continued, American newspapers blazed with inflammatory headlines:

New York Times: "With Vibranium, Could the Demon Have Invaded New York?"

Los Angeles Times: "Wakanda, Open Your Eyes to Our Suffering World!"

Wall Street Journal: "Vibranium Trade Could Revolutionize Global Economy"

Rolling Stone: "Number One Hit: 'A Thousand Reasons to Destroy Wakanda'..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Support me at [email protected]/goldengaruda and check out more than 60 chapter of this or more early access chapter of my other fanfic translation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~