"No problem! Ten million yen! Already prepared!"
Child Emperor agreed immediately, his young face carrying a maturity beyond his years. He pulled out ten million yen on the spot and handed it to Saitama.
"Damn it… a so-called professional hero reduced to a wage slave just to make ends meet—how pathetic."
Saitama muttered while counting the bills.
Ah, life… nothing but hardship.
With little grace, he clambered over the edge like hopping a fence and entered the black void. His bald head poked out as if soaking in a bathtub, his dull eyes glancing over the three people. "I'm off then."
"Be careful, Saitama… I'll wait for you to come back."
Blizzard's voice was soft with concern.
Tatsumaki wanted to say something, but before she could, his head dipped under, two bubbles rising before he vanished. Her pretty face twitched twice in frustration.
[Ding~ Dimensional Gateway System is honored to serve Lord Saitama once again!]
[Destination: Marvel World. Current time point: Iron Man 1. Please prepare for crash landing.]
In the darkness, the familiar system chime rang.
"Huh? Iron Man 1? Prepare for a crash landing? Crash landing?! Wait—"
Saitama's heart skipped a beat.
In an instant, blinding light exploded before his eyes. A scorching shockwave surged like a tsunami, tearing through everything. Countless shattered rocks flew like bullets in all directions.
One minute earlier.
Afghanistan, 10 kilometers outside Bagram Air Base—United States military's secret weapons testing zone.
Rolling highland mountains, white snow atop bare, hard rock.
Several desert-camouflaged military jeeps stood parked on the Gobi flats. A number of high-ranking U.S. military officers looked ahead with solemn expressions—more precisely, at the short-bearded, sunglass-wearing, relaxed figure of Stark Industries' CEO.
Tony Stark.
A legend at the pinnacle of global weapons technology, equally famous for his brilliance and playboy lifestyle.
"Which is better—to be feared or to be respected?"
Tony looked into the camera seriously. "I say, is it too much to ask for both? It's my honor to introduce the weapon born for that purpose—Stark Industries' ace product."
"The first anti-gravity missile launch system, integrated with our own rapid-response tech. Some say the best weapon is one you never have to fire. I respectfully disagree."
"I believe… the best weapon only needs to be fired once."
Snap!
Tony flicked his fingers. Nearby, a desert-painted missile launcher slowly rose. Three light missiles, each over three meters long, shifted direction and streaked toward the mountains behind, trailing smoke.
Midair, they split apart into countless micro warheads, swarming like birds returning to a nest, covering the entire mountain range.
"For your consideration—the Jericho missile."
Tony spread his arms theatrically. With a deafening roar, the mountain's rock layers shattered violently. A wave of scorching air rolled forward like a tsunami, forcing the military brass to brace themselves against the blast.
"Deal! Incredible! The Jericho missile is truly the king of the missile world!"
Colonel Rhodes and the other military leaders couldn't hide their astonishment.
Too powerful!
Such devastating coverage and firepower—perfect for small-scale wars. Easy to transport, terrifying yield—three shots could wipe out a mid-sized military base. A true ace among aces!
An ice cooler opened, releasing a wave of chill under the burning sun. A row of expensive liquor bottles rose. Tony casually grabbed one, raising it toward the gathered brass. "With every $500 million deal, you get a complimentary case. Here's to peace."
"Colonel Rhodes, I think something just went wrong."
As Rhodes was about to leave, a soldier ran up, looking tense.
"Radar just showed that during the Jericho missile's explosion, an unidentified flying object seemed to have fallen into the blast zone."
"Unidentified flying object? Ask the Air Force if it was one of theirs."
Rhodes frowned. The airbase wasn't far—maybe some careless pilot wandered into the test zone.
"Already confirmed—it wasn't them. But judging by the size, it's too small to be a fighter jet. Our radar data is unclear."
"A drone?"
Rhodes frowned deeper. Arms deals were always top-secret matters of state. If another country had been spying, it would be bad.
"It… it looked like… a person? But the satellite imagery is blurry. And with the Jericho blast covering the area, I think… I think we might have accidentally hit a civilian."
The soldier's voice was shaky.
"Pfft—"
Rhodes nearly spat out his beer. Civilian? In a restricted military zone? Impossible.
But then his words froze in his throat. His eyes widened at the blurry satellite image the soldier handed over.
"This is him, Colonel. Just captured moments ago."
The soldier pointed at the blurry figure—yellow and red clothing, what seemed to be a white cape… and a bald head? Looked like… a bald man.
"Pfft—damn it! No way!"
Rhodes sprayed his drink, exclaiming. How could he not recognize that guy?!
(End of Chapter)
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