Different countries.
Different languages.
The same unease.
CNN.
NHK.
CGTN.
BBC.
Al Jazeera.
For years, the world had watched people do the impossible.
Bullets bending midair.
Bodies healing faster than medicine allowed.
Humans surviving what physics forbade.
But no one had ever understood why.
CNN replayed footage from Saudi Arabia.
“A man known as Kai,” the anchor said, voice tight.
“One shot—yet the bullet altered its trajectory and neutralized eleven targets. How is that possible?”
Japan followed.
Hono, leaping across an elevated expressway, pulling two children away from an oncoming bus.
China.
Xin, flesh regenerating during an explosion.
Australia.
Emily, falling from twenty-five stories… then standing up and walking away.
Every one of them vanished afterward.
No interviews.
No explanations.
Then—
Bangkok.
BBC slowed the footage to near stillness.
Ray.
Spinning midair.
Activating Gravity Boots.
Launching ten meters upward.
Dodging an RPG within a fraction of a second.
Deploying a foam spring in open air.
Neutralizing ten Iron Shade soldiers in twelve seconds.
“This is not CGI,” the correspondent said.
“This is technology—and physiology—the world does not possess.”
A pause.
“And he is not the first.”
“He is simply the clearest.”
Across the globe, the same questions exploded:
Who created them?
Is this a state weapons program?
What is Cheetar?
The conclusion spread faster than panic.
Superhumans were not born.
They were manufactured.
And every trail led to one name.
Teva Tech.
—Transmission ends—
While the world erupted—
Thailand went silent.
Too organized.
Too calm.
Government agencies moved as one.
The military issued no conflicting statements.
Police operations aligned perfectly.
Domestic headlines spoke in a single voice:
“Teva Tech — Protector of the Nation.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Marcus: Architect of Thailand’s New Era.”
Foreign media condemned him.
Thai media praised him.
Truth was sealed.
Fear was sealed.
Blood was sealed.
Only one image remained:
Marcus, the hero of the nation.
Marcus entered wearing full Death Cheetar armor.
Every general lowered their gaze.
The Prime Minister’s hand trembled around his glass of water.
Marcus spoke quietly.
“Prime Minister,” he said,
“the time has come.”
“The time for Thailand… to become a global superpower.”
The Prime Minister swallowed.
“W-war…?”
“You’re declaring war?”
Marcus lifted his mask slightly.
His eyes were steady.
“Yes,” he said.
“Against the entire world.”
The room felt heavier.
“We control high-grade Cheetar,” Marcus continued.
“We command Iron Shade.”
“We possess technology no nation can replicate.”
He turned to the world map.
Placed his palm over Thailand.
“You will remain seated,” he said.
“And you will sign.”
The Prime Minister did not resist.
The army already belonged to Marcus.
Within seventy-two hours—
Iron Shade swept across Thailand.
Drug syndicates erased.
Foreign criminal networks dismantled.
Illegal Cheetar miners executed in remote forests.
Border crime eliminated.
Every black-market distribution route seized.
Crime dropped fifty percent.
Crowds celebrated.
“Marcus saved the country!”
“Teva Tech is our future!”
“Thailand will rule the world!”
Images spread of Marcus rescuing trafficked children.
What no one knew—
was that he had created those gangs himself.
Order was easy to manufacture.
Heroes even easier.
Sanam Luang transformed into a global broadcast arena.
Drones hovered overhead.
Military helicopters circled.
Hundreds of cameras locked onto one man.
Marcus stepped onto the stage.
Death Cheetar armor gleaming.
Like a king ascending a throne.
The crowd roared.
He raised the microphone.
“The world has reached its turning point.”
Silence fell.
“Thailand controls the only source of pure Cheetar on Earth,” he said.
“And today—we redraw global power.”
The massive screen behind him ignited.
Thailand stood at the top.
Strategic partners appeared around it—each chosen, each necessary.
RA
???? Thailand
(Leader — Source of Cheetar, global arbitration power)
???? Taiwan
(Advanced chip manufacturing — grants Thai military base, secures global semiconductor supply)
???? India
(Mega Data Centers — manpower and AI backbone for RA)
???? Brazil
(Energy & natural resources — non-Western resource stability)
???? Turkey
(Geopolitical leverage — mediation debt with Greece, strategic corridor control)
???? Saudi Arabia / ???? Qatar
(Next-generation energy — transition from fossil to future power)
???? Israel
(Advanced weapons & defense systems — deep military technology exchange)
Marcus’s voice cut through the broadcast.
“RA is not an alliance of ideology,” he said.
“It is an alliance of capability.”
The screen shifted again.
Numbers appeared.
Not slogans.
Not threats.
Prices.
For Resource Accord (RA) Members:
1× Base Price
(Reasonable Strategic Price)
-
Guaranteed long-term supply
-
Stable volume allocation
-
Indexed to production cost, not geopolitical pressure
Marcus spoke evenly.
“This is not a discount,” he said.
“This is the real price.”
The screen darkened.
Three flags emerged—dimmed.
The United States.
China.
Europe.
New numbers appeared beneath them.
For Non-RA Nations:
10× Base Price
(Punitive Strategic Rate)
-
Restricted volume
-
Short-term contracts only
-
Mandatory compliance and inspection
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Marcus smiled.
“You may still buy,” he said.
“But you will pay.”
A pause.
“For decades, you dictated supply chains.
You decided who advanced—and who waited.”
He leaned closer to the microphone.
“Now, you pay ten times more.”
Silence.
Not anger.
Understanding.
“And let me be clear,” Marcus added calmly.
“This is not a sanction.”
“There is simply… no alternative.”
The final statement appeared on screen.
Cheetar cannot be created.
It cannot be replaced.
And it exists in only one place on Earth.
Thailand.
Marcus switched to English to All Perfects.
His voice carried across the planet.
“To all Perfects around the world—
you were created by Teva Tech.”
“You owe us your existence.”
“Surrender to me.”
A pause.
“And I will spare your lives.”
“Refuse…”
“I will come for you myself.”
He placed the microphone down.
Gently.
Like setting off a bomb.
Global headlines detonated instantly:
“THAILAND DECLARES GLOBAL DOMINANCE.”
“WORLD WAR III BEGINS.”
“SUPERHUMANS ARE MANUFACTURED.”
Somewhere—
Ray watched in silence.
Three clenched his fists.
And the world crossed a line it could never return from.
—Transmission ends—