The Underwear’s Heartbreak

Section 1: Beast of Jealousy

Marvel stood before Dave and the jogging girl, his body swelling from the massive surge of adrenaline. His shoulders widened, the muscles across his arms and chest tightening and expanding as thick veins rose beneath his skin. His neck grew so tense that every breath made the veins along it pulse, while his face twisted into something almost unrecognizable.

He had become a beast.

Terrified, the jogging girl clung tighter to Dave’s arm and hid behind him. Dave gently peeled her hands away. “Step back,” he said softly. “Stay a little farther away. I’ll protect you.”

She nodded quickly, then ran off and crouched behind a bench several meters away. Dave waited until she was safely behind it before turning back toward Marvel. For several seconds, neither man moved. The afternoon breeze stirred the leaves overhead while a few people walking through the park slowed down and looked over, sensing that something was wrong.

Then Marvel’s voice exploded like a siren.

“HOW DARE YOU! Wearing those pink, triangle-shaped women’s underwear just to deceive an innocent girl! You perverted monster! I won’t forgive you! You didn’t just lie to her—you lied to her heart! To her feelings! You’re shameless! Absolutely shameless!”

Dave’s heart sank. He had always thought Marvel was his friend. For weeks, the two of them had sat together on that bench. Dave had talked for hours while Marvel silently listened. He thought Marvel would be happy for him, but instead, Marvel was staring at him like an enemy, forcing him to choose between two things: friendship or love.

Dave closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Three seconds passed. He made his decision.

He chose… boobies.

When Dave opened his eyes, Marvel was already charging toward him. The ground shook beneath his footsteps, and Dave barely had time to raise his arms before Marvel crashed into him. Their hands collided in midair, palms slamming together before their fingers locked as they fought in a raw contest of strength.

For one instant, neither man moved. Then Dave’s eyes widened.

Something was wrong.

His feet began sliding backward. At first, it was only a few centimeters, but Marvel kept pushing harder. Dave’s shoes tore across the muddy ground, carving two long trenches behind him as he leaned his entire body into the struggle. His shoulders shook and his teeth clenched, but it made almost no difference.

Marvel kept accelerating, pushing him faster and faster—first at the speed of a bicycle, then a motorcycle, then a car. Dirt sprayed from beneath Dave’s feet as the two men tore across the park. A trash can clipped Dave’s shoulder and spun away, scattering bottles and wrappers across the grass while several pedestrians screamed and jumped aside.

Within seconds, Dave had been driven nearly twenty meters backward. He could feel the pressure crushing through his arms and shoulders, and Marvel was still getting faster.

Section 2: Broken Bench

That was when Dave roared:

“MUSCLE DASH!”

Dave slammed one foot into the ground.

BOOM!

The soil beneath him exploded. Several paving tiles cracked at once, fragments jumping into the air as Dave’s leg absorbed the full force of Marvel’s charge. His backward movement stopped instantly.

Before Marvel could react, Dave twisted his hips and wrist, using Marvel’s own momentum against him. Marvel’s feet left the ground, and his massive body flipped clean over Dave’s shoulder before crashing straight through the long wooden bench several meters away.

CRASH!

Wooden boards snapped in half, metal supports bent sideways, and broken pieces scattered across the grass.

Dave froze.

It was their bench—the same bench where Marvel had first sat beside him, where Dave had delivered countless monologues while Marvel quietly listened, and where their strange friendship had taken shape.

Now Marvel lay in the middle of it.

The bench had been split almost perfectly in two, just like their friendship—broken beyond repair.

From a distance, the jogging girl stared at the destruction. Then her face lit up. “Yay!” She jumped into the air and threw both fists above her head.

That was a fatal mistake—one that would put both her and Dave in grave danger.

As she landed, her chest bounced so hard it seemed to defy physics.

Marvel saw everything.

For one second, the beast became completely still. Then another surge of testosterone flooded through his body. Combined with the adrenaline already raging inside him, it pushed his power to an entirely new level.

A broken board slid from Marvel’s back as he slowly rose from the remains of the bench. He stepped forward, and several thin cracks spread outward beneath his shoe.

“She’s such a fine young lady,” Marvel said, his voice trembling with rage. “Look at her. Look at her boobs—the finest boobs I’ve ever seen. So round, so big, so perky!”

His breathing grew heavier. “I don’t know what kind of sorcery you cast on her, but I can tell she’s not herself. She’s been deeply poisoned by whatever spell you put on her!”

Marvel pointed a trembling finger at Dave. “Tell me! What the heck did you do to her?! You scumbag! You lowlife! You shameless fraud!”

Dave didn’t answer. The Marvel he knew was gone. What stood before him now was nothing but a foul beast, completely consumed by jealousy.

Dave lowered his stance and clenched his fists. For a brief moment, the two men stared at each other across the ruined park.

Then Dave exploded forward.

“MUSCLE DASH!”

The ground burst beneath his foot. Dave shot forward like a human cannonball, crossing the distance between them almost instantly. Before Marvel could fully raise his guard, Dave twisted his body and drove a heavy punch straight into his ribs.

THUD!

The impact sent a visible shock through Marvel’s torso. His feet briefly left the ground before he landed and slid backward several steps, his shoes grinding across the pavement.

A thin stream of blood trickled from the corner of Marvel’s mouth.

But that was all.

Marvel wiped the blood away with the back of his hand and looked at it. Then he looked back at Dave, his expression becoming even more twisted.

Suddenly, he dropped to all fours and charged.

Section 3: Machine Gun Slap

His hands and feet struck the ground like four pistons. Every stride tore chunks of dirt and broken pavement into the air behind him as his body stayed frighteningly low, moving less like a man than a wild animal.

Before Dave could react, the beast was already right in front of him.

MACHINE GUN SLAP!

SMACK!

Dave’s head snapped sideways.

Marvel’s arms became a blur. Slaps came from the left, then the right, then the left again. Dave raised both arms to protect his face, but Marvel’s hands kept slipping around his guard. Every time Dave blocked one slap, two more landed from another angle.

Five every second.

Then more.

SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!

The sound echoed across the park like a machine gun made entirely of human palms. Dave stumbled backward as Marvel followed him relentlessly. He tried to counter with a right hook, but Marvel slapped the punch aside and immediately struck him several more times across the face.

His cheeks swelled. His lips puffed up. One eye narrowed until he could barely see through it. Dave tried to step away, but Marvel stayed directly in front of him.

In less than ten seconds, Dave’s face had swollen beyond recognition, puffed up like a pig’s head.

Marvel didn’t stop. His hands remained a blur, the Machine Gun Slap continuing to hammer Dave’s swollen face without mercy.

Seeing this, the jogging girl rushed forward. Desperate, she spotted a baseball bat near an abandoned sports bag, grabbed it with both hands, and swung with all her strength straight into the back of Marvel’s head.

CLANG.

The vibration nearly knocked the bat out of her hands.

Marvel barely reacted. Without even turning around, he casually swept one arm backward.

His hand never touched her.

The sheer force of the swing blasted the air behind him.

BOOM!

The jogging girl was ripped off her feet and sent flying backward across the park. She sailed over the grass and a walking path as people below screamed and scattered.

Ten meters.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Nearly fifty meters away, her back slammed into a thick tree trunk with a sickening crack. Her body bounced off and crashed onto the ground.

For several seconds, she didn’t move. Then her fingers twitched. One arm and one leg were bent at unnatural angles, and a terrible pain shot through her back when she tried to lift herself. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move.

The interruption had stopped the Machine Gun Slap for barely a second.

But one second was enough.

Dave seized the opening and drove his elbow hard into Marvel’s neck. The beast staggered backward two steps, bent forward, and coughed twice.

That was all.

Marvel straightened himself almost immediately.

FACE DESTRUCTION PUNCH!

Marvel’s fist shot straight toward Dave’s face. Dave knew exactly what would happen if it landed. His already swollen face wouldn’t merely be injured—it would be permanently deformed into that of a pig-like creature.

At the very last second, Dave threw one arm across his face and blocked the punch.

BOOM!

Pain exploded through his arm. A sickening crack came from somewhere between his wrist and elbow, and then the rest of the force hit him.

Dave flew backward.

His feet left the ground completely as his body shot across the park in the same direction as the jogging girl. The first lamppost stood directly in his path.

CRASH!

Dave tore through it, bending the metal pole nearly in half before snapping it loose from its base.

He kept flying.

A second lamppost appeared behind it.

CRASH!

That one broke too.

Dave spun helplessly through the air until he smashed into the same tree the jogging girl had struck. Leaves and branches exploded around him as several limbs snapped beneath the impact. One caught his leg, another caught his waist, and a thicker branch finally stopped his upper body.

When everything became still, Dave was wedged between the branches several meters above the ground. His blocking arm hung uselessly beside him, blood ran from his swollen mouth, and his entire body barely responded.

He was still conscious, but only barely.

Section 4: The Final Way

Dave hung helplessly between the branches, his vision blurring in and out. Every breath sent pain through his body. Through the leaves below him, he saw Marvel slowly turn toward the jogging girl.

She was still lying at the base of the tree, unable to move. When she saw the beast approaching, her face went pale. She tried to drag herself backward with her working arm, but her body barely moved across the dirt.

Marvel stopped directly in front of her and stared down for several seconds.

Then, through clenched teeth, he asked the question that had been burning inside him all along.

“Tell me… do you love me, or do you love that underwear muscle clown?”

The jogging girl stared up at Marvel. Despite her injuries, there was no hesitation in her voice.

“You?” she said firmly. “Not in a million years.”

Marvel stared at her in disbelief. “Why? Why are you still so deeply poisoned by him? All I want to do is save you!”

“I love him,” she said. “I love The Underwear.”

Marvel froze, then grabbed his head with both hands.

“No…”

That was the final straw.

Marvel closed his eyes and thought for three seconds. “So there’s only one way left,” he muttered. “The final way. To save you… I must do this.”

In Marvel’s twisted mind, nothing else had worked. She had been poisoned far too deeply.

High above them, Dave immediately understood what was about to happen.

No!

He tried to move, but his broken body barely responded.

Leave her alone!

He screamed the words inside his head, but no sound came from his mouth.

At the base of the tree, Marvel lowered himself over the jogging girl.

The scene faded into the distance. Far across the park, life continued as if nothing were happening. A young couple walked along the path while sharing a drink. An old man walked his dog. Two children chased each other across the grass, and a jogger passed beneath the trees without slowing down. Leaves rustled gently in the afternoon breeze.

Everything seemed peaceful.

Then Marvel’s voice suddenly thundered across the park.

MACHINE GUN PUSH-UP!

Several birds burst from the trees.

What happened next was far too dark to describe to our readers.

A few people passing through the park stopped and watched from a distance for several seconds. One man looked around, perhaps waiting for someone else to do something, but nobody did. Another person quietly turned away, then another.

Nobody wanted to get involved.

It was not until much later that one kindhearted passerby finally called the police. By then, three or four hours had passed.

Marvel slowly rose to his feet. Tears streamed down his face as he looked down at the jogging girl.

“I’m sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t want this. I just… I didn’t know how else to save you.”

Then he heard sirens approaching in the distance. Marvel knew he couldn’t stay. Still crying, he dropped onto all fours and sprinted away, disappearing deep into the woods.

Section 5: Police Tape

By the time the emergency crews arrived, the park was filled with flashing lights and sirens. Police tape stretched between the trees, broken lampposts lay across the ground, and the destroyed bench remained scattered across the grass.

Firefighters climbed the tree and carefully reached Dave. He barely reacted as they secured his body and slowly lowered him through the branches. His face was almost unrecognizable, one arm clearly broken, and dried tears ran through the dirt and blood covering his swollen cheeks.

They placed him onto a stretcher and began rushing him toward an ambulance.

Dave’s eye opened slightly.

He turned his head.

A second stretcher stood nearby.

A white sheet covered the entire body, including the face.

Dave stared at it. His lips moved, but nothing came out.

After hours of suffering, the jogging girl had died at the scene.

Later that evening, the incident dominated the local news.

A female reporter stood outside Kissena Park, police lights flashing behind her.

“We are reporting live from Kissena Park, where a young woman was found dead earlier today following what police are calling one of the most disturbing incidents Flushing City has seen in recent years.”

She turned slightly toward the crime scene behind her.

“One man was also found critically injured and trapped in a tree. He has since been transported to a nearby hospital. Police have not yet released his identity.”

The reporter paused.

“The suspect remains at large.”

Section 6: Bubble Tea Orders

The television continued playing in the corner of the police station. Around a table beneath it, Chief Grayson and several senior officers were playing poker as if it were just another ordinary evening.

A young rookie stared at the television in disbelief. “Chief… this rape incident is terrible. It’s one of the worst we’ve seen in recent years. Should we do something about it?”

He clenched his fist, his voice filled with determination. “We can’t let someone this evil walk free. We have to bring him to justice!”

Grayson didn’t even look up from his cards.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?”

He casually pushed a stack of chips toward the center of the table.

“All in.”

The rookie stared at him. “But, Chief—”

Grayson finally glanced up. “If you’re that free, go get me a bubble tea.”

The rookie’s face fell. “Me again? It was me last time! And last time, you didn’t even give me the money!”

Grayson slammed one hand onto the table.

“GO! Before I unleash my wrath on you!”

The rookie flinched, then turned toward the door.

“Oh, fine. Jesus.”

Just as he reached the exit, one of the senior officers called after him.

“Hey! Get me one too. Milk tea, half sugar, extra ice.”

Another officer raised his hand without looking away from his cards. “Taro milk tea for me. Add pearls.”

“Coconut jelly for mine.”

“Pudding too.”

The rookie slowly turned around and stared at them. For a moment, he wanted to ask who was going to pay. Then he looked at Grayson and thought better of it. He had already been yelled at once tonight. He didn’t want to get yelled at for the second time.

“Oh well, forget about the money,” he muttered. “Just fuck my life.”

With a helpless sigh, he pulled out his phone, opened the Notes app, and began writing down their orders.

A few seconds ago, he had been talking about bringing one of the city’s most brutal criminals to justice.

Now he was taking bubble tea orders.

“Anything else?”