"Shopkeeper, this is it. This is exactly the lifeline I've been looking for."
After the initial rush of the sample subsided, Bruce looked at Rosh with a gaze that was heavy with a newfound, desperate determination. The frantic energy of a fugitive had been replaced by the quiet focus of a man who finally saw a path through the woods.
"I'm glad it meets your expectations, Dr. Banner," Rosh replied, offering a small, supportive nod.
In his own mind, Rosh was being realistic. The Door-Door Fruit wasn't a perfect "cure-all" for Bruce's condition. It wouldn't delete the Hulk from his DNA or scrub the gamma radiation from his blood. What it would do was provide the ultimate tool for compartmentalization. It was a way to create an internal and external "safe room." Even the high-tier Op-Op Fruit, the one Stephen Strange was currently dreaming about, wouldn't be able to fully untangle the mess of two souls sharing one body.
Devil Fruits were essentially fragments of god-like power, but even they had limits. They could rewrite the rules of the world, but they couldn't always fix the broken pieces of a man's heart.
"Then, Shopkeeper... let's stop talking and finalize this," Bruce said, his voice snapping Rosh back to the present. There was an edge of eagerness in the doctor's tone, a fear that if he didn't close the deal now, the dream might evaporate.
Rosh didn't make him wait. With a quick signal, his staff began wheeling in the heavy, reinforced crates of gold that Banner had spent months scrounging for across several continents. It was a staggering amount of wealth, the physical manifestation of Banner's survival instinct.
*Whoosh!*
With a casual flick of his wrist, Rosh activated his system storage. In a blink, the massive pile of gold crates simply ceased to exist, pulled into the invisible inventory of the system.
Bruce let out a quiet, sharp gasp, his eyes widening behind his glasses. Even though he'd seen Rosh perform similar feats before, the physicist in him still rebelled at the sight. It was a total violation of the law of conservation of mass. Rosh remained a walking, talking enigma, a man whose abilities felt less like science and more like something ancient and supernatural.
"Dr. Banner, here is the official Door-Door Fruit. From this moment on, the power is yours."
Rosh held out the strange, swirling fruit. Bruce's hands shook visibly as he reached for it, his fingers brushing against the cold, textured skin. He didn't hesitate for a second. He took a massive, determined bite, ignoring the foul flavor that usually made others weep.
*Sigh!*
Bruce let out a long, shuddering breath as he finished the fruit. It was as if a physical weight, one he'd been carrying since that fateful day at the gamma test site, had finally been lifted from his chest. With the permanent power of the Door-Door Fruit now fused to his soul, he finally had a leash for the beast. He had a way to manifest a threshold that the Hulk couldn't simply smash through.
"Rosh, I... I can't thank you enough. I don't even have the words for what this actually means," Bruce whispered, reaching out to grip Rosh's hand in a firm, deep shake. "This changes... It changes everything. Thank you. Truly."
"Congratulations, Dr. Banner," Rosh said, offering a knowing, enigmatic smile.
After a few more minutes of quiet, heavy-hearted conversation, Banner decided to take his leave. Rosh leaned against the counter, watching the doctor's retreating back with a faint, sympathetic sigh.
It was a strange. The Hulk was a force of nature powerful enough to traverse the stars and literally shatter the planet if pushed far enough, yet Bruce Banner's life had been nothing but a relentless series of tragedies because of that very strength. He was a god trapped in the skin of a man who just wanted a nap.
And unfortunately for Bruce, the tragedy was far from over.
Even as they had been speaking, Rosh had felt the familiar, tingling ripple of Observation Haki pinging in the back of his mind. He didn't even need to look through the window to know that the street was crawling with hidden eyes. The military had found Banner again.
This time, however, they were being much more cautious. They were lingering in the shadows, clinging to the corners of the block, and waiting for him to step outside the recognized sanctuary of the Home of the Devil Fruits. They clearly remembered the smoldering ruins of the last airbase they'd lost trying to flex their muscles near Rosh's doorstep.
Rosh leaned back, keeping his Haki active. He was curious to see the look on their faces when they realized Bruce was no longer just a scientist who turned green.
Outside, Banner pulled up his hood and adjusted his sunglasses with the practiced, nervous efficiency of a man who had spent more time in alleys than in laboratories. He glanced over his shoulder at every street lamp and alleyway, his pace quick and jagged. It was a sobering sight: one of the world's most brilliant minds reduced to acting like a common thief in the night just to survive.
He ducked through two narrow alleys, doubling back and checking his periphery at every single turn. By the time he reached the end of the next block, the streets seemed unnervingly quiet. Banner let out a tentative, shaky sigh of relief, thinking, for just a fleeting second, that he'd finally slipped the leash.
But the moment his guard dropped, the trap snapped shut.
*Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!*
Dozens of soldiers swarmed from around every corner, emerging like ghosts from the shadows of storefronts and parked cars. Every single one of them was geared to the teeth in tactical armor, their rifles raised and aimed squarely at his chest.
"Damn it!" Banner hissed, his heart rate spiking. He spun around to flee, only to find another squad already cutting off his retreat with shields and batons. He was boxed in.
*Vroom! Vroom!*
Heavy tactical assault vehicles roared into the street from both ends, blocking the exits like massive iron gates. Among the standard troop carriers were specialized units, armored behemoths equipped with high-frequency sonar cannons, the same weapons designed specifically to destabilize the Hulk's physiology.
The street erupted into a localized storm of chaos. Pedestrians screamed and scrambled for cover as the military moved with practiced speed to clear the "kill zone." Within seconds, the area was a ghost town, leaving only the circle of soldiers and a very frightened Bruce Banner standing in a tense, silent standoff.
"We finally caught you, you pathetic freak!" A high-ranking general stepped to the front of the tactical line, his chest puffed out with a brand of arrogant triumph that only comes from someone who thinks they've already won.
"Listen to me, just for one second," Banner pleaded, his voice strained and thin. He could feel his pulse starting to climb, that familiar, heavy thrumming in his ears that usually signaled the end of his self-control. "I know my history. I know I've caused a lot of damage. But I've changed. I'm not that person, that thing, anymore. I have a handle on it now."
"Save the 'reformed' speech for your padded cell, Banner," the General snapped, his sneer deepening. He wasn't interested in redemption; he was interested in a trophy. He turned to his men, his voice a sharp bark. "Get ready! Weapons Aim!"
*Clack-clack!*
The soldiers leveled their rifles in unison. These weren't your standard-issue infantry weapons. They were high-tech delivery systems loaded with custom-engineered, concentrated tranquilizer darts. Each one was packed with a chemical cocktail potent enough to drop a bull elephant mid-charge. The military had clearly taken notes from the long, bloody history of General Ross's failures. They weren't just taking a chance; they were trying to skip the fight entirely.
"Fire!"
"No! Wait—!"
*Pfft-Pfft-Pfft!*
Several darts slammed into Banner's shoulder and chest, the needles biting deep. His knees buckled almost instantly as the massive dose hit his bloodstream. He swayed like a drunkard, the world around him blurring into a smear of grey and green as the sedatives fought to shut his nervous system down. With a heavy groan, he collapsed face-first onto the pavement.
A smug, satisfied grin spread across the General's face. He could hardly believe it had been this easy. Thaddeus Ross had spent years of his life and millions of taxpayer dollars chasing this monster across the globe, losing half his men and his reputation in the process, only to die a bitter failure. 'What a joke,' the General thought. 'All he needed was a little more finesse.'
"Bag him and tag him," the General ordered, waving a hand with bored dismissal. "Let's get this asset to the bunker."
Three soldiers broke their formation, moving cautiously toward the prone, motionless doctor to secure him.
But then, the low, guttural growl of a cornered beast echoed through the street. Banner, still face-down on the ground, began to thrash. His skin didn't just turn; it flickered with a sickly, darkening green that seemed to pulse with every beat of his racing heart.
"Back up! Get back now!" the lead soldier screamed, his bravado instantly replaced by a primal fear.
"Watch out! He's turning! He's going green!"
Panic rippled through the ranks like a shockwave. The soldiers scrambled backward, their disciplined formation evaporating as the legend of the Hulk's rage suddenly became very real.
"Don't... don't come any closer!" Banner roared, his voice cracking and deepening into a bass that shook the nearby windows. Using the absolute last of his fading consciousness, he forced his body to move. He reached out into the empty air in front of him, his fingers curling into a claw-like grip, and made a sharp, violent pulling motion.
*Creeeeeak!*
The sound of a heavy door opening on rusted hinges echoed through the street. Right there, in the middle of the "kill zone," a physical door swung wide. With a final, desperate lunge, Banner threw himself through the threshold and slammed the door shut behind him.
The door simply evaporated a second later, leaving behind nothing but an empty patch of pavement.
The street fell into a deafening, stunned silence. The soldiers looked at each other, then back at the empty space where Bruce Banner had been lying just heartbeats ago. There were no footprints, no blood, and no signs of a struggle. He was just... gone.
The General stood frozen, his mouth agape and his smugness replaced by a look of sheer, stuttering confusion.
"Where the hell did he go?" he stammered, his voice losing all its authority. "He was right there! Since when did that monster learn magic!?"
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Next Chapter: The Soldier Who Never Woke Up
Next Next Chapter: The World-Changing Phone Call
Next Next Next Chapter: Awakening the First Avenger
Visit my P@tr3on or K0‑fi ''Isopuff'' page and unlock +20 extra chapters and daily updates!