Chapter 88 Iron Man VS Whiplash
The air in Monaco was salty and humid, mixed with the smell of burnt tires and money.
The roar of engines came one after another, making hearts tremble. The F1 Grand Prix, a playground for the rich.
Chu Hang sat in the most luxurious VIP box, overlooking the Sun-baked racetrack. He wore a casual suit, his identity being Anthony Chen, the second-largest shareholder of Stark Industries.
He held a glass of champagne, the bubbles constantly rising and bursting. He had no interest in racing, nor in this noisy money-burning spectacle. He was here for only one thing.
To claim a trophy.
The atmosphere in the box was far from as leisurely as his.
"Tony, you can't do this!" Pepper Potts was frantic. Dressed in a sharp business suit, she was trying to pull Tony away from the racing suit. "This is too dangerous!"
"What's dangerous about it?" Tony shrugged indifferently as he put on his fireproof suit. "This is my team, my race car. Can't I go for a couple of laps and give the audience some entertainment?"
He had just been chatting with the team manager and, on a whim, decided to race himself. This decision threw the entire team into chaos.
"This is a huge problem!" Pepper's temples throbbed with anger. "You're the CEO! Not a race car driver!"
"Relax, Pepper." Tony zipped up his suit and winked at her. "My flying skills are better than most pilots, driving a car is nothing, a small scene."
Happy Hogan, the loyal bodyguard standing nearby, had a look of utter resignation. He wanted to dissuade him, but he knew he couldn't. He could only resignedly pick up a helmet and carefully inspect it.
Chu Hang watched this scene with interest. Tony Starkwas like that, always living in the spotlight, enjoying the thrill of an adrenaline rush. His inherent adventurous spirit was both his greatest charm and his greatest weakness.
"Let him go, Miss Potts." Chu Hang put down his wine glass and walked over. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "No one can change what he decides. All we can do is trust him."
Pepper looked back at Chu Hang. This man was always like that, as if nothing concerned him. She sighed, giving up. She knew Chu Hang was right.
Tony gave Chu Hang a thumbs-up, put on his helmet, and strode towards the red Stark Industries liveried race car.
The roar of the engine instantly intensified, like a roused beast.
The race began.
A dozen race cars shot out like bullets. Tony's skill was indeed good; he started a bit slow but quickly caught up to fifth place, relying on the car's superior performance and his bold driving style.
The atmosphere in the box was extremely tense. Pepperclasped her hands tightly, her eyes fixed on the onboard camera view of Tony's race car on the screen.
Chu Hang leaned back on the sofa and poured himself another glass of champagne. His perception, like an invisible net, enveloped the entire racetrack.
He hadn't found his target in the stands or the pit lane.
"It seems he'll make his appearance directly on the track," he thought.
The race entered its third lap. Tony was about to overtake at a sharp turn when an accident occurred.
A man in an orange mechanic's uniform slowly emerged from a maintenance tunnel beside the track. His steps were steady, completely ignoring the race cars speeding past at over three hundred kilometers per hour.
"Who is that? Is he crazy? Where's security! Get him out of there!" The race commentator shouted in horror.
The stands erupted in an uproar. Everyone thought it was a madman seeking fame.
But Chu Hang's eyes instantly sharpened.
It was him.
Ivan Vanko.
Ivan took off his orange outer garment, revealing a crude and simple mechanical exoskeleton. A circular reactor similar to the one on Tony's chest emitted an ominous blue light. In his hands, he held two metal handles.
He pressed the switch.
"Zzzzt—!"
Two dazzling electric lights suddenly shot out from his hands, drawing two several-meter-long electric whips in the air. The electric whips twisted like venomous snakes, and the air, scorched by high temperatures, crackled loudly.
He casually swung an arm.
One of the electric whips, like a red-hot knife, fiercely struck a speeding race car nearby.
There was no violent collision sound.
Only a grating slicing sound.
That race car, worth tens of millions, was neatly cut in half from the middle, like a hot knife through butter. The metal at the cut instantly melted, turning red, and then, with a "boom," exploded into a fireball.
The racetrack instantly turned into hell.
Screams, alarms, and the sound of out-of-control race cars colliding merged into a cacophony. Spectators stood up in horror, scattering like headless flies.
In the box, Pepper let out a short gasp, her face pale.
Chu Hang's face, however, showed an expression of interest for the first time.
"Interesting."
He looked at the two dancing plasma whips in Ivan Vanko's hands, and the system's analysis panel automatically unfolded in his mind.
"Target Locked: Ivan Vanko"
"Ability Detection in progress..."
"Detected B-rank Ability: Plasma Energy Confinement and Shaping (Crude Version)"
"Do you wish to copy?"
"B-rank... crude version..." Chu Hang stroked his chin.
The rank wasn't high, and the evaluation was poor. But this idea of shaping energy into a cold weapon form was a good complement for him. His own Cosmic Energy and Space abilities were either large-scale attacks or precise point-to-point strikes, lacking this kind of flexible mid-range form.
"Copy," he silently thought.
"Copying started... ability template being constructed..."
"Copying complete! Obtained B-rank Ability: Plasma Energy Confinement and Shaping!"
A complex stream of information instantly flooded Chu Hang's mind. How to construct a miniature magnetic field bottle, how to adjust the magnetic field frequency to change the shape and hardness of the plasma, how to efficiently guide the energy out... All the technical details about the plasma electric whip became as clear as if he had studied them himself for ten years.
Crude, but useful.
Chu Hang immediately thought of a dozen improvement methods. For example, using space curvature to assist confinement could reduce energy leakage to almost zero. Or injecting Cosmic Energy into it to create an energy attack that could cut through anything and change shape freely.
On the track, Ivan Vanko was walking step by step towards Tony's crashed and immobilized race car. The expression on his face was filled with the pleasure of revenge.
"Happy! Quick! Drive!" Pepper shrieked, grabbing a red briefcase and rushing out of the box.
Happy reacted extremely quickly, immediately starting the Rolls-Royce parked nearby, carrying Pepper, and recklessly driving against traffic onto the track.
He floored the accelerator, slamming hard into Ivan Vanko.
Ivan was sent flying by the impact, but his exoskeleton protected him. He quickly got up, angrily brandishing his electric whips, shredding the front of the Rolls-Royce.
Taking advantage of this opening, Happy threw the red briefcase to Tony, who had climbed out of the race car.
"Finally," Tony wiped the oil from his face.
He stepped on the middle of the briefcase and pulled hard.
"Click! Click! Clack!"
A series of dense mechanical interlocking sounds rang out. The briefcase, like a Transformer, instantly unfolded. Countless tiny mechanical parts swiftly attached, assembled, and locked onto Tony's limbs and body.
In just seven seconds.
A red and silver, lightweight and extremely streamlined Iron battle suit covered Tony's entire body.
Mark 5, the Briefcase battle suit.
Ivan Vanko's electric whips whistled through the air.
Tony had just finished suiting up, raised his arm, and precisely blocked the attack. Plasma and the battle suit's alloy collided, erupting in dazzling sparks. A scorched mark immediately appeared on the battle suit's arm.
"Not a bad design," Tony's voice came from inside the battle suit, with a hint of teasing. "However, your reactor technology is too outdated. If you're going to steal from my house, at least steal the latest model."
He grabbed the electric whip and pulled hard.
Although the Mark 5 was lightweight, its strength was still far beyond that of an ordinary person. Ivan stumbled, pulled to the ground.
Tony gave him no chance, closing in, pressing his hands firmly on the reactor on Ivan's chest, and pulling it out with force!
"Zzzzt—!"
The tubes connected to the reactor were violently torn, and electrical sparks flew. Ivan Vanko's exoskeleton and electric whips instantly lost power and dimmed.
The battle was over.
Police swarmed in, pinning Ivan Vanko firmly to the ground.
He looked at Tony, who was walking over, a look of unwillingness on his face, and murmured in Russian, "I haven't lost yet."
Tony frowned, not understanding.
In the VIP box, Chu Hang finished the last sip of champagne in his glass.
He looked at the wreckage below, then at Ivan Vankobeing led away by the Police, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.
He knew that it wouldn't be long before Justin Hammerwould use his connections to get Ivan Vanko out of prison.
The prelude to a good show had just begun.
Chapter 89 New Skill: Dimensional Whip
The air in the Congressional hearing room was stuffy and humid.
Rows of politicians and Military bigwigs in suits looked solemn, as if attending a funeral. Flashbulbs flashed incessantly, scanning Tony Stark on the witness stand like there was no tomorrow.
"Mr. Stark," Senator Stern's voice was dry and hard, "The whole World saw what happened in Monaco. A Terrorist, using technology similar to that thing on your chest, caused immense chaos. This proves that your so-called 'Iron Man' is, in essence, a super weapon that can be replicated and abused!"
He slammed his hand on the table, making the Water glass jump.
"We can no longer allow such an uncontrolled weapon to remain in private hands. On behalf of the U.S. government, I once again demand that you transfer the Iron Man armor suit technology to the Military!"
Tony leaned back lazily in his chair, chewing gum, a smirk on his face. He glanced at Justin Hammer, who was sitting behind Senator Stern. Hammer was smiling at him, a smile full of schadenfreude.
"Senator," Tony deliberately drew out the English pronunciation, full of sarcasm, "First, that thing isn't a weapon; I prefer to call it a high-tech prosthetic. Second, I am Iron Man; the armor suit and I are one. You can't ask me to hand myself over, can you? That sounds a bit strange and not ergonomically sound."
A ripple of suppressed laughter went through the room.
Stern's face was as black as a pot bottom. "Mr. Stark, this is no time for jokes!"
"I'm not joking." Tony dropped his smile, becoming slightly more serious. "The fact is, other countries, including some of our 'competitors,' have been desperately trying to replicate my technology, but they've all failed. Why? Because they don't have me. That guy who popped up in Monaco, his technology is, at best, a twenty-year-old half-finished product. You want me to hand over the technology so that this half-finished product can be perfected, and then the World will be full of lunatics in tin suits?"
"We have the ability to control it!" Senator Stern raised his voice. "We have the top experts! Mr. Hammer!"
Justin Hammer immediately stood up, like a peacock eager to display its feathers, carefully adjusting his tie.
"Yes, Senator," Hammer cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone, "Hammer Industries has the confidence and the capability, under Military supervision, to safely and efficiently replicate and mass-produce this system. We will turn it into a solid shield to protect the nation, not a billionaire's private toy."
He spoke passionately, as if he were the savior himself.
Chu Hang sat not far behind Tony. As the second-largest shareholder of Stark Industries, he was entitled to attend. He looked at Hammer's face, full of hypocrisy and ambition, and found it somewhat amusing.
He felt Tony's body subtly tense with anger. Tony's patience was running out.
Chu Hang took out his phone, quickly typed a line of text, and then turned the phone screen towards Tony.
It read: "Ask him, 'Illegal appropriation of private intellectual property' and 'Forced technology transfer,' which charge sounds more appropriate for today's hearing. Remind him that Stark Industries' legal department is not to be trifled with."
Tony caught a glimpse of the text out of the corner of his eye. He paused, then the curve of his lips became even more mocking.
He ignored Hammer and looked directly at Senator Stern: "Senator, I must remind you. All technology for the Iron Man armor suit belongs to Stark Industries' trade secrets and intellectual property, protected by law. What do you call it, standing here today, in front of the World's media, demanding that I hand it over for free? Robbery? Or is the U.S. Congress now planning to set a precedent, where the government can take the core technology of any tech company whenever it wants?"
As soon as these words were spoken, a flurry of whispers immediately broke out. The faces of the representatives from other tech companies in the gallery changed. They realized that this was not just a threat to Stark Industries, but to all of them.
Senator Stern was clearly unprepared for Tony's counterattack from this angle and was momentarily speechless.
Tony pressed his advantage, turning to Justin Hammerwith a bright smile: "As for Mr. Hammer's 'confidence'... Jarvis, could you play an interesting video for me? The one where Hammer Industries demonstrated their drones to the Military last time."
"Happy to oblige, sir."
On the big screen in the hearing room, the scene changed, and a video began to play showing Hammer Industries' drones losing control on the testing ground, crashing everywhere like headless flies, and finally nose-diving into the ground. Hammer's exasperated curses could also be heard in the video.
The entire room erupted in laughter; this time, no one suppressed it anymore.
Justin Hammer's face turned from a liverish red to a deathly gray. He felt as if he had been stripped naked and thrown before the entire World.
"Enough! Turn it off!" Senator Stern roared.
Tony spread his hands, a look of innocence on his face: "See, these are the 'top experts' you've found. Senator, if I hand the technology over to him, will you sleep at night? I suggest you honestly wait five or ten years; maybe by then Hammer Industries will be able to build a decent toaster."
The hearing ultimately ended in a farce. The government's demands were indefinitely postponed, and Tony emerged victorious.
Walking out of the hearing building, Tony let out a long sigh of relief.
"Thanks, Anthony," he said to Chu Hang beside him, "That message of yours came at just the right time."
"It was nothing," Chu Hang said indifferently, "I'm just protecting my investment. Stark Industries' stock price can't handle such turmoil."
The two walked to the parking lot and got into Tony's Audi.
"How's the investigation into that guy named Ivan Vankocoming along?" Chu Hang asked casually.
"He's dead," Tony started the car, his tone somewhat subdued, "The official story is that he committed suicide in prison. But I always feel things aren't that simple."
"Oh?" Chu Hang looked at the receding streetscape outside the window. "Someone who went to such great lengths to seek revenge on you in front of the whole World, just gives up so easily in prison? That doesn't sound very logical."
"Right? I think so too." Tony frowned.
"I actually think someone's luck in this matter is a bit too good," Chu Hang's voice was very soft, as if he was talking to himself.
"Who?"
"Justin Hammer," Chu Hang said the name, "Think about it. Ivan Vanko's appearance perfectly created a panic about 'Iron Man technology leaks.' Then, Hammer Industries was pushed to the forefront as the 'solution.' If you hadn't stood firm today, he would probably have already secured a multi-billion dollar contract from the Department of Defense. Isn't all of this a bit too coincidental?"
Tony's hands on the steering wheel tightened abruptly. The car let out a screeching tire sound.
He wasn't stupid. Chu Hang had only hinted at it, and he instantly understood the crux of the matter.
"You mean..."
"I didn't say anything," Chu Hang interrupted him, "I'm just a businessman, accustomed to analyzing problems from a profit perspective. Ivan Vanko is dead, who is the biggest beneficiary? Isn't the answer obvious? By the way, I heard that the private security company responsible for transferring Ivan Vanko has some murky equity ties with Hammer Industries."
Silence fell in the car.
Tony's face was terrifyingly grim. He realized he had been targeted by a venomous snake.
"I know what to do," he said after a long while.
Chu Hang smiled and said nothing more. He knew his goal had been achieved.
That night, Chu Hang returned to his Villa by the sea in Los Angeles.
He stood before the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the dark ocean. He extended his right hand, palm up.
"Sizzle..."
A small ball of blue-White plasma appeared out of thin air in his palm, like an unstable Fire, flickering and emitting a faint electrical crackle.
This was [Plasma Confinement and Shaping] learned from Whiplash.
"Too crude," Chu Hang shook his head.
The energy confinement was extremely unstable, and energy was being inefficiently lost in the form of light and heat. Moreover, the shaping ability was very poor, barely able to maintain the form of a whip.
"Time for an upgrade."
He closed his eyes, and the Universe energy within him began to flow slowly. This time, he did not let the energy burst directly, but carefully guided them like the most precise embroidery needle.
First, the energy source.
He abandoned simulating the arc reactor's plasma, directly calling upon the purest Universe energy. The arc reactor was, in essence, the application of electrical energy, too low a level. His Universe energy, however, was one of the cornerstones of reality, purer and more dangerous.
Then, confinement.
Ivan Vanko used crude magnetic field confinement, like trying to scoop Water with a fishing net; it would always leak. What Chu Hang wanted to do was create a perfect bottle. A bottle made of space itself.
His mind stirred, and a wisp of spatial energy, finer than a hair, began to rapidly weave above his palm, constructing an absolutely smooth "channel."
This was an energy conduit made of space itself.
Then, he carefully injected a small current of Universeenergy into this spatial conduit, like loading a gun.
There was no blinding light, no explosive sound.
That furious Universe energy, upon entering the spatial conduit, was perfectly confined within that slender space. Its energy density was compressed to an astonishing degree, revealing its purest destructive power.
Chu Hang opened his eyes, looking at his "masterpiece" in his hand.
It was an almost transparent whip, only visible as a subtle distortion in the air at specific angles. It was as silent as if it didn't exist, without any sound or radiating any heat.
But Chu Hang knew that the edge of this whip was a pure spatial rift. It no longer melted objects with high temperatures, but directly severed the connections of matter at a dimensional level.
He casually waved it.
It silently sliced through a nearby table made of a solid block of titanium alloy.
Nothing happened.
The table was still the table, perfectly intact.
Chu Hang retracted the whip. He extended a finger and gently touched the table.
That incredibly sturdy titanium alloy table, as if made of sand, silently split into two halves along an incredibly smooth cut, sliding to the ground.
The cut was as smooth as a mirror, even reflecting Chu Hang's smiling face.
"This move is called [Dimension Whip]," he thought with satisfaction.
Chapter 90 Black Widow's Attack
The underground research and development center of Hammer Industries was lit by Stark white lights, as bright as an operating room.
Justin Hammer, dressed in an expensive custom suit with his hair slicked back, was excitedly showing off his "masterpiece" to Ivan Vanko, spitting as he spoke.
"Look at this, Ivan! Look!" He pointed to rows of neatly arranged drones, like a child showing off a new toy. "Full titanium alloy casing, the most advanced targeting system, each one equipped with a Gatling gun and miniature missiles! This is the future of war!"
Ivan Vanko, wearing a gray prison uniform, stood with his hands in his pockets, his face expressionless as he looked at the drones. His gaze was like he was looking at a pile of scrap metal.
Last night, Hammer had "extracted" him from a high-security prison. A private jet had flown him directly to this location.
"Software?" Ivan finally spoke, his voice hoarse with a thick Russian accent.
"Uh, software…" Hammer's smile faltered. "Still debugging. But it doesn't matter, the hardware is perfect! Once the software issue is resolved, they'll be able to fly, to fight! My team is currently…"
"Your team is stupid," Ivan interrupted him without ceremony.
He walked to a control terminal and typed a few keys. Not far away, a robotic arm assembling a drone suddenly twitched, its movements erratic, bending a newly installed Gatling barrel with sparks flying.
"This garbage," Ivan said without looking back, "is not even as good as Tony Stark's toys from ten years ago."
Hammer's face twitched, but he forced a smile: "That's why I need you, my friend. You are the only genius who can compete with Stark. As long as you help me perfect these drones, money, women, whatever you want, I can give it to you!"
"I'm not interested in fixing your garbage," Ivan turned around and stared into Hammer's eyes. "I want my own workshop, my own materials. I want to build my own things."
"Of course, of course!" Hammer immediately bowed and scraped, afraid that this only lifeline would escape. "Anything you want! But you also have to help me sort out the software for these drones. On the closing day of the expo, I want the whole World to see that Hammer Industries' drone army is a hundred times stronger than Stark's tin cans!"
"I will give you a usable set of software," a cold smile played on Ivan's lips. "But I will build my own 'Soldiers.' I want Tony Stark to watch with his own eyes how everything he created tears him apart."
Hammer shivered at the undisguised hatred in Ivan's eyes. But he didn't care. He only wanted results.
Use this knife to kill Tony Stark. And then, destroy this knife as well… Meanwhile, at the top floor of Stark Industries Tower.
Tony Stark was idly throwing darts at a picture of Justin Hammer on the wall. Hammer's forehead in the picture was already riddled with holes.
The office door opened, and Pepper Potts walked in on high heels, followed by a tall, red-haired woman.
"Tony, stop playing," Pepper said helplessly. "Let me introduce you, this is Miss Natalie Rushman, the new notary in the company's legal department. Her resume is excellent, she speaks multiple languages, and she even has modeling experience."
Tony stopped throwing darts, turned around, and his gaze fell on Natalie.
This woman was indeed eye-catching. A tight professional suit outlined her almost perfect figure perfectly. There was little expression on her face, and her eyes were calm, like a deep pool of Water.
"Woah," Tony whistled, walked out from behind his desk, and looked her up and down. "Legal department? What a waste of talent. Someone like you should be in Hollywood."
"Mr. Stark, I prefer my current job," Natalie's voice was pleasant but equally devoid of emotion.
"Alright, Miss Rushman," Tony extended his hand, striking what he thought was a cool pose. "Are you interested in boxing? I happen to need a sparring partner."
Natalie didn't take his hand, only gave a slight bow: "Sorry, sir, that is not part of my job description."
Pepper rubbed her temples: "Tony! Miss Rushman is here to take over the previous notary's work; there are many important documents that need your signature. I hope you can be serious."
"I am serious," Tony retracted his hand, not feeling awkward at all. "I'm assessing the comprehensive qualities of a new employee. Alright, Miss Rushman, since you're from the legal department, you must know a lot about law. Do you think it's illegal for someone to be too good-looking?"
A barely perceptible curve finally appeared at the corner of Natalie's mouth: "No, sir. But if it causes public disorder, you might be warned."
"Interesting," Tony stroked his chin. This woman was not simple…
Just then, the office door opened again.
Chu Hang walked in.
"Tony, I've seen your 'Ark Project' publicity plan, it's a mess," Chu Hang said bluntly, throwing a document on Tony's desk. "Are you sure this is for investors and not for your fan club?"
"Hey! You wouldn't understand an artist's work," Tonycomplained, then his eyes darted, and an idea popped into his head.
He looked at Chu Hang, then at Natalie standing next to him, a mischievous smile on his face.
"Anthony, my good partner!" Tony walked over enthusiastically and put his arm around Chu Hang's shoulder. "You've come at just the right time. Look, as the company's second-largest shareholder, you're always elusive, like a God, you don't even have a secretary to handle documents, is that acceptable?"
Chu Hang frowned: "What are you trying to say?"
"I found you a perfect assistant!" Tony pointed at Natalie. "Miss Natalie Rushman, Dr. of Law, proficient in eight languages, and has been on magazine covers. Most importantly, she is very, very efficient. I think she's a bit wasted with me. I, on the other hand, prefer a free and uninhibited creative atmosphere, and Miss Rushman is too rigorous; we don't have compatible auras."
Pepper's eyes widened: "Tony! What are you doing! Miss Rushman is from the legal department!"
"What's wrong with the legal department?" Tony said self-righteously. "Anthony is also a company shareholder, so he certainly has the right to the best legal support! Isn't this a perfect match for her expertise? It's settled then!"
He wanted to throw this hot potato, whose origins were unclear, to Chu Hang. Let this mysterious woman deal with another mysterious man. He wanted to see what kind of chemical reaction would happen when these two got together.
Chu Hang glanced at Natalie.
Natalie was also looking at him, and for the first time, a flicker of emotion appeared in her eyes. This unexpected turn of events was beyond her expectation.
Chu Hang's mind was clear. Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. Sent by Nick Fury.
Interesting. Was Fury, the One-Eyed Man, unsure about himself, or unsure about Tony? Or both?
"Alright," Chu Hang nodded, to everyone's surprise.
He walked up to Natalie, extended his hand: "Hello, Miss Rushman. I am Anthony Chen. From now on, you will be my private executive assistant, responsible for handling all legal and business documents related to Stark Industries under my name. Your salary will be tripled from the original."
Natasha was momentarily stunned. She quickly composed herself, a professional smile returning to her face, and shook Chu Hang's hand: "It's an honor to work for you, Mr. Chen."
Their hands touched and separated instantly.
Chu Hang could feel that the woman's palm was soft, but there were a few very subtle calluses at the base of her thumb and on her knuckles. Those were marks left by years of high-intensity combat and equipment training.
Natasha felt the same. The man's hand was warm and dry, looking like that of a pampered rich man.
"Tony, you really are a genius," Pepper was so angry she couldn't speak.
"Thanks for the compliment," Tony winked at her proudly. He had successfully gotten rid of a potential problem and was in a great mood.
"Alright, Miss Rushman," Chu Hang ignored the interaction between the two and immediately got down to business. "Since you are my assistant, let's start working now."
He picked up the rejected "Ark Project" publicity plan from the desk.
"This is your first task," Chu Hang handed the document to Natasha. "I want a report analyzing all of Hammer Industries' public financial statements, major contracts, and the equity structure of all its subsidiaries for the past five years. I want to know where every penny they spent went and which offshore companies they have financial dealings with. Have it on my desk by 8 AM tomorrow."
Natasha took the document, her pupils imperceptibly contracting.
The amount of work involved in this task, for a normal assistant, would be impossible to complete in a week, let alone one night. This was no longer just business analysis; it was essentially intelligence work.
He's testing me.
Natasha understood immediately.
"Understood, Mr. Chen," she replied calmly, showing no difficulty. "You will see it by 8 AM tomorrow."
"Very good," Chu Hang nodded, seemingly satisfied.
He took out a black, unmarked magnetic card from his pocket and placed it on the table.
"Your office is on the 88th floor; you'll be the only one there. Use this card to go up from the dedicated elevator in the underground parking lot."
Stark Tower's publicly announced highest floor was the 87th floor.
Natasha looked at the black card, and even greater waves churned in her heart.
Chu Hang turned to leave, but stopped at the door and looked back at Natasha, saying:
"Welcome to the team, Miss Rushman. I hope you… can keep up with my pace."
With that, he walked out of the office.
Natasha watched Chu Hang's retreating figure, then looked at the almost impossible task in her hand, and for the first time, a solemn expression appeared on her face.
She realized that her current mission might be much more complicated and dangerous than she had imagined.
Who exactly was this man named Anthony Chen?
Chapter 91: War Machines Debut
Under Chu Hang's interference, Tony resolved his palladium poisoning problem prematurely.
Once the threat of Death disappeared, he completely relaxed. He felt invincible, his technology at least fifty years ahead of the World, and nothing could ever threaten him again.
When people lose their goals, they tend to feel empty.
Tony filled his emptiness by indulging.
The cliffside Villa by Malibu beach hadn't been quiet for weeks.
Music could be heard for miles, rattling the windows. Expensive champagne was sprayed everywhere like free tap Water.
The huge infinity pool was packed with bikini models, their laughter mixing with the splashing of Water. On the lawn, a World-class DJ, wearing headphones, swayed his head to the mixing console, surrounded by men and women dancing wildly to the beat.
The center of the party wasn't the DJ, nor any celebrity.
It was Tony Stark.
He stood next to the DJ booth in his flashy red and gold Mark 4 armor suit, like an out-of-place tin dummy, clumsily swaying to the music.
He enjoyed being the center of attention.
He raised his right hand, and the repulsor cannon in his palm flashed, precisely lighting a cigar held between the fingers of a blonde girl in the distance.
The girl screamed exaggeratedly, drawing cheers and whistles from the crowd.
Tony proudly lifted his metal chin.
He then extended his hand towards the pool, and a low-temperature beam swept across the Water's surface. A thin layer of ice instantly formed on the pool's surface, freezing several floating beers inside.
Someone cheered and jumped over, smashing the thin ice, grabbing a chilled beer, and downing it.
The Iron Man armor suit, an ultimate weapon meant for a Guardian of peace, had now become his party toy for showing off.
He immersed himself in this vanity, numbing himself.
Just then, a huge roar, coming from far away and getting closer, drowned out the noisy music.
A gray Military helicopter hovered over a nearby helipad, and the strong wind it generated made the women on the lawn scream and hold down their skirts.
The cabin door opened, and Colonel James Rhodesjumped out of the aircraft.
He wore a crisp dark blue Air Force dress uniform, his shoulder insignia glinting under the party's neon lights. He looked at the scene of debauchery and chaos before him, his brow furrowed into a knot.
The air, mixed with the smell of alcohol, perfume, and hormones, made him feel a physiological discomfort.
He walked through the reveling crowd; the drunken men and women, seeing his Military uniform, instinctively made way for him.
He walked to the DJ booth and stood in front of Tony.
"Tony!" Rhodey's voice was not loud, but it was like a Hammer, heavily striking through the noisy music, "What exactly are you doing?!"
Tony turned his red and gold metal helmet, and the faceplate 'clicked' upwards, revealing a face that looked somewhat bloated from alcohol and late nights.
"Hey! Rhodey!" He saw his old friend, grinned broadly, his voice slurred, "My old buddy! You're finally here! Come on, go change into your swim trunks, the girls here all want to meet a real Air Force Colonel!"
"I'm not here for your damn party!" Rhodey's face was ashen, he suppressed his anger, saying each word distinctly, "Those politicians in Congress are hounding you like flies, Hammer Industries is playing dirty behind the scenes, and Terrorists all over the World want your technology! And you?"
He pointed his finger, heavily tapping Tony's chest reactor, his voice filled with disappointment and anger.
"You're wearing this, acting like a Joker here! Have you forgotten how Ethan died? Have you forgotten why you built this armor suit in the first place?!"
At the mention of the name "Ethan," Tony's smile froze.
A trace of pain and guilt flashed in his eyes, but in just one second, it was suppressed by even more exaggerated arrogance and conceit.
"Don't bring up such depressing things, Colonel." Tonyshook his metal finger, his tone frivolous, "I'm doing great now, better than ever before.
I've solved all problems, I'm invincible. I should be enjoying life and celebrating victory now. You're too serious, Rhodey, relax."
"Relax?" Rhodey was so exasperated by his demeanor that he laughed, "When you wake up from a hangover one day and find Stark Industries swallowed by a scoundrel like Hammer, and your technology being used by Terrorists to slaughter civilians, let's see how you relax then!"
"So what?" Tony shrugged indifferently, "By then, I'll just fly over and take care of them all. Anyway, no one is my match, right?"
This deep-seated confidence had turned into pathological arrogance.
Rhodey looked at him, and the last glimmer of hope in his eyes extinguished. He knew that reasoning with a drunken megalomaniac was futile.
"Tony, you've disappointed me greatly." Rhodey shook his head, not saying another word.
He turned and strode towards the Villa's underground workshop.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Tony shouted after him.
Rhodey did not look back.
He entered the workshop.
This place, once filled with the sparks of creation and passion, was now cold and deserted, with only a few robotic arms idly maintaining equipment. The air carried a faint scent of oil and dust.
His gaze fell upon the entirely silver-White armor suit in the center of the workshop.
Mark 2.
Tony's second prototype, a pure flight test platform, without any weapon systems installed. But its body structure, flight capability, and defensive power were almost identical to the Mark 4 Tony was wearing.
A crazy and determined thought emerged in Rhodey's mind.
If reasoning didn't work, then he would use his fists to knock him awake... The party upstairs was still going on.
Tony, seeing that Rhodey hadn't come up for a while, felt an uneasy premonition. He swayed as he activated his thrusters, flew down the stairs, and landed directly in the workshop.
The sight before him sobered him up halfway.
Rhodey, with Jarvis's help, was putting on the silver-White Mark 2. Armor plates were closing with crisp mechanical sounds.
"Jarvis?" Tony's voice turned cold, "What are you doing?"
"Sir, I apologize." Jarvis's voice sounded helpless, "Colonel Rhodes has security clearance second only to yours; I cannot refuse his commands."
"What are you doing, Rhodey?" Tony looked at his friend, clad in the same metal, his eyes turning dangerous.
The Mark 2's faceplate 'clicked' shut, and Rhodey's cold voice came from within, with a metallic resonance: "Tony, you no longer deserve this armor suit. I'm taking it away and giving it to someone who understands responsibility better."
"Ha!" Tony sounded like he had heard the funniest joke of the century, "With you? You haven't even read its instruction manual!"
Before he finished speaking, he raised his hand and fired a repulsor beam.
Although it was Rhodey's first time wearing it, he was an ace pilot, and his reaction speed far surpassed that of ordinary people. He instinctively dodged to the side.
The beam grazed his metal shoulder, blasting a basin-sized hole in the wall behind him, scattering concrete fragments everywhere.
The party upstairs stirred at the loud bang but was quickly drowned out by even more explosive music.
"It seems you're really drunk." There was no emotion in Rhodey's voice, "Tony, this is your last chance, take it off yourself."
"If you have the guts, come and get it!"
Tony roared, his foot thrusters suddenly blasting, and he charged towards Rhodey like an enraged bull.
The two Iron Giants wrestled together in this workshop filled with expensive equipment and precision instruments.
This wasn't a battle; it was the most barbaric brawl.
Tony's fist slammed into Rhodey's helmet, emitting a deafening 'clang'. Rhodey was knocked back several steps, overturning a shelf full of tools, wrenches, and parts scattering across the floor.
Rhodey steadied himself and kicked Tony's chest reactor. Tony flew backward like a sandbag, crashing heavily into a red vintage sports car. The million-dollar collectible was instantly crushed into a pile of scrap metal.
"My car!" Tony cried out in distress, his anger flaring even more.
His foot thrusters fired at full power, and he sprang from the wrecked car like a cannonball, embracing Rhodeytightly from behind. Both lost their balance, crashing through the workshop wall and into the Villa's main hall.
The party guests, seeing two Iron Men crash out of the wall, were terrified, screaming and scattering.
"Get out, all of you!" Tony roared at the panicked crowd.
The two tin men continued to tumble and wrestle in the chaotic living room. With punches and kicks, they smashed expensive custom furniture and priceless artworks to smithereens.
They fought from the living room to the yard, then crashed from the yard into the pool, sending up huge splashes.
Finally, the two, entangled, flew into mid-air, confronting each other above the Villa, neither able to overpower the other. The high-temperature airflow from their thrusters distorted the air below.
"Enough, Rhodey!" Tony gasped, all his armor suitparameters alarming, "Don't make me get serious!"
"Do you think I'm afraid of you?" Rhodey was unyielding, adopting an attack stance.
Just as they were about to charge at each other again, an overly calm voice came from below.
"Gentlemen, have you had enough fun?"
Tony and Rhodey looked down simultaneously.
Chu Hang, or rather "Anthony Chen," dressed in simple casual wear, holding a glass of red wine, stood on the pockmarked lawn, looking up at them.
He even had a polite smile on his face, as if he were watching a boring fireworks display.
When did he arrive?
"Anthony?" Tony was stunned, "How are you here? Get out of the way! It's dangerous here!"
Chu Hang shook his head, the smile on his face disappeared, replaced by undisguised disappointment.
"This is... truly unsightly."
As soon as he finished speaking, his left hand holding the wine glass didn't move, but his right hand casually waved upwards.
[Energy Absorption]
This was an ability Chu Hang had recently copied when he encountered a young Mutant girl.
Tony and Rhodey in mid-air only felt the armor suit's internal alarm system go off frantically in an instant, emitting a piercing shriek. Then, all thrusters, all hydraulic joints, all energy circuits, instantly failed.
The two hundreds-of-kilograms heavy lumps of iron, like toys with their batteries removed, lost all power and fell straight down from dozens of meters high.
Boom! Boom!
The two slammed into the lawn, creating two deep, human-shaped craters, kicking up grass and dirt everywhere. They were firmly trapped in their armor suit, unable to move.
"Jarvis! Report status!" Tony yelled frantically inside his helmet.
"Sir, all armor suit energy has rapidly depleted due to an unknown reason. I am attempting to restart, but... it has failed."
Chu Hang slowly walked to the edge of the crater where Rhodey had crashed, looking down at him.
"Colonel James Rhodes, correct?" Chu Hang squatted down, extended his hand, and gently patted the cold metal shoulder of the Mark 2.
His fingertips touched the metal.
A thought formed in his mind.
*Target: James Rhodes.*
*Ability Detected: A-Class, Military Command and Tactical Acumen.*
*Copy.*
A massive and pure stream of information instantly flooded his mind.
It was the accumulated knowledge of a top Militaryofficer over decades, countless exercises and combat experiences, and an almost instinctive battlefield intuition.
From strategic planning for army group operations to tactical coordination for individual squads, everything was written, categorized, and organized like data.
Chu Hang stood up, feeling as if he had just read an entire Military library in one-tenth of a second.
He walked to the edge of the crater in front of Tony.
"Tony Stark." Chu Hang's voice was cold, devoid of any emotion, "As the second-largest shareholder of Stark Industries, I am very dissatisfied with your recent performance. You are using your foolish actions to destroy the company's brand value, to destroy my investment."
"You... what exactly did you do?" Tony struggled, but the armor suit was like an iron coffin tailor-made for him, locking him in tightly.
"I just pressed the pause button." Chu Hang said lightly, "Now, let's talk business."
He turned to Rhodey in the pit and said: "Colonel, your idea is correct. This weapon should not be in the hands of an emotionally unstable drunkard. It needs someone more stable, more rational, and more obedient to command."
Rhodey was silent in his helmet, completely stunned by everything that had just happened.
"So," Chu Hang continued, his tone like announcing a board resolution, "As a shareholder of Stark Industries, I officially approve the transfer of this Mark 2 prototype to the U.S. Military, under your full responsibility, Colonel Rhodes."
"What?!" Tony and Rhodey exclaimed simultaneously.
"You can't do that!" Tony roared in the pit, "This is my property! My invention!"
"No, this is Stark Industries' property." Chu Hang coldly corrected, "And you are abusing company property and harming company interests. I have the right to make the most correct decision for the company's long-term development. The Military getting a armor suit can help you share the pressure of 'Iron Man,' which is beneficial to the company's positive image. And you, Tony, you need to calm down and think about who you really are."
Chu Hang snapped his fingers.
The Mark 2 on Rhodey's body regained power. The internal lights of the armor suit lit up again, and the system began self-checking.
"Colonel, you may go." Chu Hang said, "Take it back to your Base, and tell your superiors that this is Stark Industries showing goodwill. Of course, subsequent weapon upgrades and maintenance cannot be done well by incompetent Hammer Industries; they will have to come to us. That will be another profitable big business."
Rhodey was silent for a long time. He glanced at Tony, who was still struggling in vain in the pit, and then looked at the unfathomable man before him, who had decided everything with a casual remark.
He made his decision.
"I understand."
The Mark 2's thrusters reignited, spewing blue Fire. He slowly ascended, took one last look at the mess on the lawn, then suddenly accelerated, shot into the sky, and disappeared into the night.
On the lawn, only Tony remained, trapped in his armor suit, roaring in anger like a child whose beloved toy had been snatched away, and Chu Hang, calmly sipping red wine.
"Bastard! Anthony! You bastard! Let me out!"
Chu Hang took a sip of wine, ignoring his roars.
Chapter 92 Shit-Big's Defeat
The next day, the morning light squeezed through the gaps in the floor-to-ceiling windows, stinging Tony's eyelids.
He woke up on the sofa, his head felt like it was in a tightening iron band, throbbing dully with each beat.
The air was mixed with the sour, putrid smell of alcohol, perfume, and vomit, making his stomach churn. He moved, and the cold metal rubbed against his skin; only then did he remember he was still trapped in the powerless Mark 4 armor suit.
Like a sardine stuffed into a can, unable to move.
Last night's scenes, like broken glass shards, drilled into his mind piece by piece.
Rhodey's face, filled with disappointment.
Two metal lumps brutally fighting each other in his own house, smashing his beloved sports car.
And… Chu Hang's infuriatingly calm face.
"That was… truly unsightly."
This sentence was heavier than Rhodey's punch, like a red-hot steel needle, piercing his most sensitive self-esteem.
What angered him most wasn't being hit by Rhodey, or even having the Mark 2 taken away.
It was Chu Hang.
That guy just stood on the lawn, holding a glass of red wine, like a spectator watching a show, casually waving his hand.
Then, his and Rhodey's armor suit, two War Machines representing Earth's cutting-edge technology, became two lumps of powerless scrap metal, falling straight down from the sky.
What was that feeling?
He, Tony Stark, the most brilliant genius of this era, a billionaire, playboy, superhero… lost so completely in front of a "business partner" he had personally supported, he didn't even have his underwear left.
Chu Hang not only effortlessly took the Mark 2, but also, with a condescending tone of determining company property, gave his brainchild to the Military.
That wasn't a discussion; it was an announcement.
"Jarvis."
Tony's voice was dry and hoarse, like sandpaper scraping his throat.
"Good morning, sir. I detect that your heart rate is elevated and your blood pressure is unstable. I recommend immediate rehydration and electrolyte replenishment," Jarvis's gentle voice echoed in the helmet.
"Damage report."
Tony closed his eyes; he didn't want to look at the junkyard around him.
"The main structure of the Villa is 17% damaged, and the exterior walls need to be reinforced. The estimated repair cost is 1.72 million U.S. dollars.
Interior decorations, furniture, and artworks are damaged, including a Picasso's 'The Dream,' with a total value of approximately 4.53 million U.S. dollars.
Additionally, your collection of the 1by Cobra antique sports car is completely totaled and irreparable."
"Enough."
Money, he didn't care about. Just a bunch of numbers.
What he cared about was that feeling of being completely controlled, played in the palm of someone's hand.
Chu Hang knew all his weaknesses, yet he knew nothing about Chu Hang.
That guy's source of power, that guy's purpose, everything was a mystery.
"Bastard…" Tony squeezed out two words through gritted teeth.
He had Jarvis initiate the emergency ejection procedure.
The armor suit made a series of "click-clack" mechanical sounds as the chest plate, arm plates, and leg plates… peeled off him one by one, falling to the ground with dull thuds.
He stood up shirtless, looking around.
Empty wine bottles and a high heel still floated in the pool, the lawn was scarred with two large craters, and the living room was a mess, as if it had just been ransacked by an army.
After the revelry, only emptiness and chaos remained.
He staggered to the liquor cabinet, instinctively reaching for a bottle of whiskey.
His hand stopped in mid-air.
His face was reflected in the glossy glass door of the liquor cabinet.
Pale, haggard, sunken eyes, stubbled beard, cloudy gaze.
Was this the "invincible" Iron Man?
Was this Tony Stark, who had so spiritedly announced "I am Iron Man" at the press conference?
He remembered Ethan's words to him in the cave, before he died: "Don't waste your life."
Then he recalled Chu Hang's cold warning: "You are destroying my investment with your foolish actions."
He clenched his fists, his knuckles white from the effort.
He suddenly turned and punched the liquor cabinet.
Crash!
The expensive tempered glass shattered on the floor, and hundreds of priceless bottles of fine wine rolled out, smashing on the ground, amber liquid mixing with glass shards, flowing everywhere. The rich aroma of wine instantly filled the room, pungent and ironic.
"Jarvis."
Tony panted, his hand scratched by the glass, beads of blood oozing out.
"Yes, sir."
"Clean this up. Also, cancel all parties and appointments for the next three months."
"Understood, sir."
Tony didn't spare another glance at the mess, turned, and walked barefoot, stepping over the glass shards and spilled wine, into the underground workshop.
The workshop was also a mess; the spot where the Mark 2 had stood was empty, and a glaring hole in the wall let in cold wind. He walked to the central console, took a deep breath, and brought up the Mark 4's design blueprints.
A holographic projection unfolded in the air; the red and gold armor suit he once prided himself on now appeared full of flaws in his eyes.
He looked at his "masterpiece" and, for the first time, found it so displeasing. "The energy system is too fragile. What kind of Iron Man is this? A tin toy!"
He needed to be faster, stronger, more agile.
He needed a whole new energy system, one that could withstand unknown attacks.
He raised his hand and swiped forcefully through the air. The Mark 4's design blueprints were roughly pushed aside, turning into a jumble of garbled code.
The light in his eyes reignited.
A kind of obsessive, mad flame, belonging only to a genius.
He was going to build a brand new armor suit. A armor suit that would shut everyone up.
He wanted Chu Hang to know who was the smartest person in this World.
Technology, that was the real power… Meanwhile, at Stark Industries Tower, top floor, 88th floor.
This place was distinctly different from any floor below. There was no open-plan office, no noisy phone calls or keyboard clicks. Only a long corridor paved with deep gray sound-absorbing carpet, so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat. At the end of the corridor was a black alloy door with no markings.
At precisely seven fifty-nine and fifty-five seconds in the morning, Natasha Romanoff appeared at the corridor entrance.
She wore a well-tailored black suit skirt, accentuating her almost perfect figure. Her signature red hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and her face wore professional light makeup, showing no emotion.
She walked to the door and stopped. The sensor on the door flashed an almost imperceptible blue light, silently scanning her iris and palm print.
At exactly eight o'clock, to the second, the heavy alloy door slid open inwards.
Inside the office, Chu Hang stood with his back to the door, looking out from the giant floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the newly awakening New York below.
"Good morning, Mr. Chen," Natasha said, her voice breaking the silence.
"You're very punctual, Miss Rushman." Chu Hang turned around, a faint smile playing on his face.
"Your report, sir." Natasha walked to the desk and gently placed a card-thin black USB drive on the tabletop.
Chu Hang picked up the USB drive and casually inserted it into a slot on the desk.
Before him, a blue three-dimensional data stream instantly unfolded in the air, like a virtual waterfall.
Complex charts, intertwined capital flows, vast corporate structure trees… all data was presented in a visually striking manner.
The report's detail far exceeded the capabilities of an ordinary assistant, even surpassing the level of a top commercial spy.
It included not only all of Hammer Industries' public financial statements and project data, but also records of their secret fund transfers through dozens of overseas shell companies, each traceable. The report even included several audio recordings of Justin Hammer's private dealings with Middle East arms dealers; the voices were processed, but the content was clear.
Finally, there was a triple-encrypted independent folder, titled "Whiplash."
Chu Hang's finger lightly tapped the air, and the folder unlocked.
Inside was all of Ivan Vanko's information. From the feud between his father, Anton Vanko, and Howard Stark, to his own educational background and technical expertise in Russia, and then to his recent secret procurement of a batch of high-purity palladium and Military-grade capacitors through Hammer Industries' channels.
This report was equivalent to exposing Hammer Industries and Ivan Vanko's entire history, laying all their cards on the table.
Chu Hang quickly scanned the information, his face still expressionless.
If S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ace Agent couldn't even handle this, Nick Fury could retire early and go home to raise cats.
"Well done." Chu Hang waved his hand, closing the holographic projection. He looked up, his gaze falling on Natasha. "Even better than I expected. Miss Rushman, your abilities shouldn't be limited to being an assistant who serves tea and water."
"It's my honor to work for you, sir." Natasha's reply was impeccable, like a textbook.
"I'm very curious," Chu Hang leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped on the table, his eyes as sharp as a scalpel, "Where did you get all this? Especially those recordings and procurement lists; these aren't things you can just Google."
Natasha could feel her heart skip a beat, but her poker face, honed by years of training, showed no change.
"I have some… special information channels, sir."
"Special channels?" Chu Hang smiled. He stood up, slowly walked around the desk, and stood in front of Natasha.
He was almost a head taller than Natasha, looking down at her, the distance between them less than half a meter. He could smell a faint, cool scent of perfume coming from her.
"Miss Rushman, you are like a treasure trove filled with countless secrets." His voice was very low, with a peculiar magnetism. "I've also developed a strong personal interest in you."
Natasha didn't retreat. She met Chu Hang's gaze, a subtle curve appearing at the corner of her lips: "It's my honor to earn your appreciation. However, sir, it's work time now."
"Of course." Chu Hang nodded, stepping back to create distance.
Just in this subtle atmosphere of confrontation, the office door was violently pushed open from the outside with a "bang."
Tony Stark burst in, looking annoyed. He had changed into a casual suit, but the fatigue and anger on his face hadn't dissipated.
"Anthony! We need to talk! About the Mark 2, you can't just…"
His words caught in his throat halfway through. He saw Natasha in the office, and then he saw the ambiguous atmosphere between Chu Hang and her.
Chu Hang was looking down at a paper document Natasha had handed him (a backup she had prepared just in case), and they were standing very close, their posture appearing somewhat intimate.
"Oh, wow." Tony's face immediately broke into that characteristic, obnoxious smile. "Looks like I came at the wrong time? Am I interrupting something?"
He dramatically surveyed Natasha's hot figure up and down, then looked at the calm-faced Chu Hang, and whistled flirtatiously.
"Anthony, I didn't realize you were so quick. I remember an old Chinese saying, 'Seize the day.' You've learned it well."
He emphasized the words "Seize the day," both mocking Chu Hang and venting the anger accumulated from last night.
Natasha's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Chu Hang, however, didn't even lift an eyelid, still looking at the document in his hand, and casually said: "Tony, has your Chinese deteriorated? I remember another saying, 'See no evil.'"
He paused, then finally looked up, his gaze calmly fixed on Tony.
"However, since you're so concerned about my private life, shouldn't I, as a shareholder, also be concerned about yours? For example, find some time to talk to Pepper? Just about your 'heroic performances' at parties recently, and your newly totaled sports car."
The smile on Tony's face instantly froze.
The words "Pepper" immediately struck his weak spot.
He could not care about anyone else, but he could not not care about Pepper.
"You… you're ruthless." Tony stewed for a long time, his face almost turning liver-colored, finally squeezing out those few words through gritted teeth.
He extended a finger, pointed at Chu Hang from a distance, then pointed at the innocent-looking Natasha, and finally, sullenly, waved his hand.
"You two carry on! Pretend I was never here!"
With that, he turned and left, his back as disheveled as a rooster that had just lost a fight.
In the office, silence returned.
Natasha watched Tony's exasperated retreating figure, then turned to look at the man beside her who had remained calm and composed throughout.
In the depths of her eyes, a flicker of unprecedented curiosity and heightened vigilance appeared.
This man not only possessed unfathomable mysterious power but could also, with just a few words, completely control the arrogant Tony Stark.
What exactly did he want?
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s assessment of him might need to be completely rewritten.
Chapter 93 Fake Hammer, Real Undercover Agent
The door closed behind him, leaving Chu Hang alone in the office.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ace Agent was indeed effective.
Justin Hammer. Ivan Vanko.
The two of them should currently be preparing a feast of revenge against Tony Stark.
A drone army.
A modified War Machine.
The ultimate goal was to tear Tony, along with his reputation, to shreds at the closing ceremony of the Stark Expo.
According to the script, Tony would save the day at the last minute. The hero saves the World, the villain goes to jail.
Very standard.
But Chu Hang was not a spectator. He was the second-largest shareholder of Stark Industries.
A terrorist attack happening on his doorstep, no matter the outcome, would cause the company's stock price to plummet.
He had just pulled Tony back from the brink of self-destruction and didn't want his assets to shrink because of an avoidable farce.
He didn't like cleaning up messes.
He liked to stomp out sparks before they turned into a Fire.
Or, let the Fire burn along the path he had drawn.
An idea became clear in his mind.
He stood up, walked into the office's private lounge, and locked the door.
In front of the mirror, he closed his eyes.
Justin Hammer's slick, somewhat neurotic face appeared in his mind.
"Form Mimicry."
A series of subtle, teeth-grinding sounds came from inside his body.
Bones contracted, muscles reorganized. His height decreased by a few centimeters, and his originally straight back hunched slightly, revealing an insecurity born from prolonged pressure. The contours of his face were kneaded by an invisible hand, rapidly changing.
A few seconds later, he opened his eyes.
The person in the mirror was no longer Chu Hang.
It was a middle-aged man in a high-end suit, yet looking somewhat comical. A receding hairline, a meticulously trimmed goatee, and eyes mixed with arrogance, anxiety, and a hint of unconcealed lewdness.
Justin Hammer.
Chu Hang pulled at the corners of his mouth in the mirror, revealing Hammer's signature, self-proclaimed charming but actually greasy smile.
"Perfect."
He spoke, his voice becoming identical to Hammer's, with a sharp nasal tone.
He took out a spare Armani suit from the wardrobe and changed into it, then took out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses from the drawer and put them on. The lenses of these glasses could display the information he needed in real-time.
If you're going to put on a show, go all out.
He walked out of the office, threw a "Cancel all afternoon meetings" to the secretary at the door, and then walked straight into the private elevator... Queens, an abandoned cannery.
The walls were covered in graffiti, and several stray cats rummaged through a dumpster. The air was filled with a mix of sour decay and rust.
A black Cadillac pulled up to the factory gate.
The car door opened, and "Justin Hammer" stepped out. He irritably tugged at his tie and waved to the security Captain at the gate.
"Boss?" The security Captain paused, clearly surprised by his sudden visit. "Why are you here today…?"
"Less talk!"
"Hammer" impatiently interrupted him. "Where's my guest? Has he made any more damned demands? More money? Or does he want more Russian caviar?"
This imperious, temperamental demeanor was exactly Justin Hammer himself.
The security Captain dared not ask further and quickly led the way.
Passing through several heavy blast doors, a different World opened up inside.
The massive factory building had been converted into a modern laboratory, or rather, an extremely chaotic junkyard.
Wires tangled on the ground and in the air, and various precision mechanical parts and tools were casually thrown in corners.
The air was filled with the pungent smell of ozone and metal welding, causing headaches.
Dozens of humanoid drones, like rows of soulless Soldiers, stood silently in the center of the factory.
Their paint scheme was Hammer Industries' signature gray, with the U.S. Military's Stars and Stripes emblem on their chests.
And in the deepest part of the factory, in an isolated private workshop, a shirtless man covered in tattoos was chewing on a toothpick, tapping away at a computer screen.
Ivan Vanko.
Beside him stood the Mark II armor suit snatched from Rhodey. It was now disassembled, with countless wires and connectors extending from its body, linking to surrounding instruments.
What Ivan was doing was cracking and rewriting its operating system, turning it into his War Machine.
"Hammer" waved the security guard away and walked over alone.
"My genius, how's the progress?" He asked in an exaggerated, falsely enthusiastic tone, spreading his arms as if to embrace his masterpiece.
Ivan didn't even turn his head, only snorted through his nose, continuing to stare at the screen.
He reached out and, like caressing a lover, touched the cold thigh armor of the Mark II.
"Don't touch my stuff!" "Hammer" shrieked, perfectly replicating Hammer's possessiveness and insecurity. "I brought you here to write software! Not to dismantle my toys!"
"Your toys?" Ivan finally turned his head, looking at him contemptuously. "Without me, these are just a pile of scrap metal."
"Then, all you have to do is press a button on the stage, and they'll take off, dance, and show your 'greatness' to the whole World."
"Hammer" rubbed his hands, excitedly spinning around twice, then he cast his gaze towards the disassembled Mark II.
"What about this one? What are you going to do with this big guy? Colonel Rhodes is waiting to wear it and be the star of the Expo!"
"Of course." Ivan grinned, revealing teeth stained yellow by tobacco. "I'll make it the real star."
"Hammer" walked over to Ivan, pretending to curiously look at the computer screen in front of him. The screen showed the Mark II's complex internal structure diagram and operating system code, mixed with Russian annotations, which looked like gibberish to him.
He reached out and clapped Ivan heavily on the shoulder.
"Good job! Ivan! You really are a genius! I knew I didn't misjudge you!"
The moment his palm touched Ivan's skin.
In the depths of Chu Hang's consciousness, it was as if a switch had silently clicked.
*Target: Ivan Vanko.*
*Detected ability: S-Rank, Mechanical Engineering and Weapon Design (Whiplash Style).*
*Copy.*
No torrent of knowledge, no sudden enlightenment.
Only in the next thousandth of a second, when he looked at the screen again, those originally chaotic codes suddenly became orderly.
He understood.
He understood Ivan's design philosophy, full of violent aesthetics and pragmatism.
If Tony's designs were delicate, elegant works of art, then Ivan's designs were crude, direct killing tools. No superfluous decorations, no flashy functions; every part, every line of code, served only one purpose—destruction.
He instantly understood the principle of plasma energy confinement, understood another way to construct an arc reactor, and even more understood how Ivan forcibly implanted his unique operating system into Stark's armor suit.
He even saw the design blueprints for the ultimate Whiplash armor suit that Ivan had prepared for himself.
Everything became clear.
"However…" Chu Hang, or rather "Hammer," withdrew his hand, a cunning and distrustful look unique to a businessman appearing on his face. "Ivan, how can I be sure that these things will listen to me when the time comes, and not to you?"
"You don't need to be sure," Ivan said coldly. "You just need to pay."
"No, no, no, I need insurance." "Hammer" wagged his finger. He walked to the control panel, pointing to a section of code about the remote control protocol on the screen. "Here, add a backdoor for me. A backdoor with the highest authority, only I can activate."
He began to pace anxiously in the workshop, perfectly playing the role of a suspicious boss.
"I need an emergency stop switch, in case… I mean, in case those idiots in the Military want to drive my drones to some place they shouldn't go, like blowing up some Middle East oil field and affecting my stocks, I can stop them all with one click. This is my property, I must have ultimate control!"
His words perfectly captured Justin Hammer's suspicious, selfish, and control-freak personality.
Ivan frowned, clearly annoyed by this layman's meddling. But he thought about it; this didn't seem to affect his revenge plan.
Giving this idiot a false placebo to shut him up seemed like a good idea too.
"Fine," Ivan agreed impatiently. "A simple logic bomb can do it. What kind of trigger password do you want?"
"Just use…" "Hammer" pretended to think for a moment, tapping his chin with his finger, then his eyes lit up. "Just use 'Ex-Wife'."
This was the key password Natasha used in the movie to regain control of War Machine.
What Chu Hang needed to do now was to place this key in the keyhole in advance.
Ivan scoffed, clearly finding the term very much in line with Hammer's taste. He quickly typed a few strokes on the keyboard, implanting the backdoor program.
He didn't even bother to encrypt it, simply embedding it in an inconspicuous corner of the main control program.
In his opinion, an idiot like Hammer wouldn't understand the source code even if it were given to him.
"There, your 'insurance'."
"Great! Fantastic!" "Hammer" clapped his hands excitedly. "Keep up the good work, my genius! After the Expo, I'll buy you an island for bird-watching!"
He hummed a tune and walked out of the chaotic laboratory with light steps.
Sitting in the car, the moment the door closed, the smile on his face disappeared, and his eyes once again became deep and calm.
The goal had been achieved.
He had not only obtained Ivan Vanko's core technology and abilities but also planted the most crucial time bomb in his revenge drama.
Now, he just had to wait for Tony Stark himself to walk onto the stage prepared for him.
And he, only needed to sit at the highest vantage point in the audience, enjoying the show.