Chapter 11 Maggie's Parkinson's
After Ares and Anna finished eating dog food, they chased each other around Logan's room, having a blast, completely unaware that their Master was also having a blast.
Inside the room, Maggie lay panting on Logan's solid chest, her expression somewhat complex.
He should have seen it, right?
"What are you thinking about?" Logan said softly, "Do you think I would mind your Parkinson's syndrome?"
Maggie's body stiffened, and she remained silent.
Feeling the other person's stiffness, Logan smiled indifferently, "Who is born without illness or disaster? If you are sick, treat it. If it can't be cured once, keep treating it."
"Then what if it can't be cured?" Maggie looked up at Logan, a hint of expectation in her eyes.
"If it can't be cured once, keep treating it until it is cured." Logan smiled and hugged Maggie tightly. Feeling her body gradually soften, he said softly, "If I despised you because of this, it would be the greatest disrespect to you."
Hearing this, the soft spot in Maggie's heart was instantly touched, and even if he was lying to her, she would accept it.
"Let's go again."
This time, until dawn.
Logan got up, washed up, poured the dog food, stroked the happily eating Ares and Anna, and then went to make two simple breakfasts.
When Maggie woke up, breakfast was just served on the table.
The two sat opposite each other. Logan glanced at her slightly trembling fingers and said nothing.
After finishing breakfast, Maggie led Anna out, and Logandrove the modified Lamborghini Ravenston that Tony had given him a few months ago to her side.
After the person and the dog got into the car, Maggiepressed her lips tightly. After the car started and drove slowly for a moment, she gently said, "Actually, we could completely just treat it as indulging in each other for a night."
"What if I want to come a few more times?" Logan smiled, "I have to say, you are very charming."
Maggie suppressed the corners of her mouth that wanted to curl up, and the slight doubt in her heart suddenly vanished, "Then let's maintain this relationship for now."
Logan gave a hum, and then said, "Tell me what medicine you need, or how to treat it."
Maggie nodded and didn't stand on ceremony with Logan. Although they had known each other for a short time, she had figured out his temper to some extent.
Once he said something, he wouldn't allow you to refuse, just like last night...
Thinking of this, even though she had already experienced it, she couldn't help blushing.
Before long, Logan drove her downstairs to her home. After she got out of the car, he made a gesture of contacting by phone, and then drove towards Stark Tower.
Looking at the receding car shadow, Maggie didn't recover for a long time, until a faint voice came from behind, "It's already out of sight."
Startled, she turned her head and glared at the speaker, "Matt Murdock! Why are you always so ghostly, you guy?"
"It's just that you didn't notice, my movements are not light." Matt paused his blind cane with a helpless look. But suddenly thinking of something, he asked with a curious look, "Let me guess, was that your new boyfriend just now?"
Maggie said unhappily, "Kids shouldn't care so much!"
"I can already smell the scent on your body." Matt sniffed, with a strange expression, "The smell of hormones."
Maggie instantly flushed red, gritting her teeth, "MattMurdock!! Your pocket money for this month is canceled!"
Logan came to his workstation, which was the lounge outside Tony's laboratory.
He slumped on the sofa, snapped his fingers, "Jarvis, a glass of whiskey with ice, please."
"Just a moment, Mr. Howlett."
Soon, a hotel room service robot similar to later generations brought a glass of iced whiskey to Logan.
"Thanks, Jarvis."
"You're welcome, wish you good health."
Logan took a sip of the wine, then casually turned on the TV hanging on the wall to watch "Friends".
When Tony came out of the lab and saw Logan's enjoying appearance, he couldn't help rolling his eyes, "Are you the boss or am I the boss? Why do I feel like I'm working for you?"
"With great power comes great responsibility, Tony Stark." Logan said with a straight face, "You have to shoulder the heavy responsibility of saving the World, develop weapons that benefit humanity, and end those damned wars early."
"Save it." Tony knew very well that this guy was teasing himself, and he had gotten used to it over the past two years. After asking Jarvis for a drink, he drank it by himself.
Seeing that this guy wasn't as unamusable as before, Logan suddenly felt bored. Over the past two years, this bastard's skin had really been trained to be thick.
"You're quite comfortable now, every day you're either soaking in the lab or finding young models at night. You don't handle work, and you push away all social events."
"With a competent assistant, do I need to worry about much?" Tony looked smug, "If everyone were like Norman Osborn, doing everything personally, they would be exhausted to death. Look at him, working so hard, isn't he still made to look terrible by that bunch on the board of directors? As I see it, delegate power when you should, keep yourself relaxed, and make others happy, why not?"
Logan hit the nail on the head, "That's because you own 51% of the shares, while Norman Osborn owns 45%."
Tony looked disdainful, "That's because he's stupid and got played by the Military."
Logan was too lazy to discuss these distant matters with this guy, and changed the subject, "There's something I want to ask for your help with."
Tony's expression stirred, "Oh? Really rare, you actually take the initiative to ask me for help?"
"A friend I just met, she has Parkinson's syndrome. I want to ask if you know any Doctor who specializes in treating this, or if there is a way to completely cure it."
Logan also knew that it was simply impossible to completely cure this thing. Before transmigrating, he had never heard of this disease being conquered. But in this Universe, what bizarre things weren't there? Maybe there was a way?
Tony stroked his chin and was thinking. After a while, he suddenly thought of something and said, "I do know someone who can let her take a look for you, but she is not a Doctor. I can't guarantee she can cure this disease. You also know that damage to the brain's substantia nigra neurons is irreversible. But making her look no different from a normal person shouldn't be difficult."
Saying this, he suddenly looked full of curiosity, "As far as I know, your so-called friends are generally female, right? Tsk tsk, where did you meet this time?"
Looking at the banter on Tony's face, Logan curled his lips, "You think everyone is like you, liking to find groupies?"
"At least there's no burden." Tony shrugged, "I am lustful, she takes money, it's very fair."
Logan couldn't help complaining, "Your face appears on entertainment gossip news more frequently than those wanted criminals appear on the news."
"You're purely jealous."
Chapter 12 Tony Kidnapped
The person Tony mentioned, Logan did not expect to be of Asian descent. At first, he even thought it was someone from China, but it turned out to be from South Korea.
As soon as she mentioned her name, Logan immediately remembered who she was.
Dr. Helen, who appeared in Avengers and created the Cradle technology.
It is just that she has not founded her own U-GIN Genetics Research Group yet, and is currently conducting preliminary research on the Regeneration Cradle at an institution under the guise of an intern.
When Logan brought Maggie to find her, she had already received a call from Tony and, without too much nonsense, began helping Maggie check her current condition.
Half an hour later, Logan saw the door push open, and the two women were chatting and laughing, looking very relaxed.
"Maggie's condition is currently in a controllable state, and I am researching a project to repair neuronal damage. Perhaps there will be a possibility of a complete cure in the future; she just needs to regularly come to me to help her control her condition."
Upon hearing this, Logan immediately expressed his gratitude, "Trouble you, Dr. Helen."
Helen smiled and waved her hand, "It does not matter, Maggie's arrival can be considered helping me a favor."
After the three of them chatted for a bit, seeing that Helenhad things to busy herself with, Logan took Maggie and said goodbye.
Back in the car, looking at Maggie's relaxed expression, Logan smiled, "Now we finally do not have to worry, right?"
Maggie nodded, "Thank you, Logan."
Logan smiled indifferently, "What is there to thank? Did you not already thank me earlier?"
"It is different." Maggie shook her head; the two matters were simply incomparable.
Looking at Logan's profile as he drove intently, she could not help muttering inwardly: 'This favor, I am afraid it will be very hard to repay.'
Logan's life returned to its previous routine, nothing more than having an extra Maggie. He still strolled when he should stroll and fished when he should fish.
Ares gradually grew into adulthood, reaching a shoulder height of 83 centimeters, and his weight even reached 58 kilograms. Standing upright, he was at least over 170 centimeters tall, already a big guy.
Led outside, he was always surrounded and photographed by people, and even quite a few dog owners offered high prices asking to breed with Ares.
To this, Logan refused all of them. He definitely did not want to toss around his dog, and as for having kids, that was even more up to fate.
Besides, if they really wanted to breed, Anna was still waiting in line there.
Speaking of Logan himself, in this past year, he hardly hunted any Mutant who committed crimes. Perhaps because he killed too fiercely a year ago, causing many Mutants not to dare show their heads, so in nearly a year it was almost hard to see Mutant criminals. Consequently, his points currently only accumulated around 300.
As for abilities with potential, needless to say; if he could absorb them, he would not have accumulated so many points.
Time approached 2008. This year's Christmas, Tony invited Logan to his home to spend it together, and besides that, there was no one else.
Even Pepper and Rhodes were not invited by him. The former was because things had not reached that stage yet, and the latter was because the other party had his own family.
Therefore, only he and Logan, these two lonely people, happened to get together.
That night, Tony drank himself thoroughly drunk, constantly muttering about his parents' car accident and enduring it alone for seventeen years.
Logan silently drank his wine, looking at this guy's uncomfortable appearance, feeling somewhat upset inside.
In the entire Avengers, Tony was undoubtedly the person who sacrificed the most—money, effort, and people.
And then? Stabbed in the back by trusted people, and finally snapping his fingers to solve everyone's trouble, yet getting himself dragged into it.
Actually, in reality, this guy was quite easy to get along with. What he needed was just someone to fill the emptiness in his social life.
On December 16, 1991, a hole appeared in his heart, a hole very hard to fill. So why was he like a hedgehog? Because he was protecting himself, just like a stressed-out cat.
He might not be mature; that was because when he was not mature yet, he had to be forced to mature. No one ever cared what his wishes were, and in the end, he just silently carried everything and chose to fulfill everyone else.
Perhaps at that moment, the child named Tony Starkfinally returned to his parents' side.
"Considering how pitiful you look, I will let you be locked up 2 months less."
Logan muttered, drinking the wine in his hand in one gulp.
February 10, 2008, outside Stark Tower.
"Really will not let me go with you?"
Logan asked, looking at Tony, who was smiling all over and wearing sunglasses.
Tony waved his hand, "No need, this time the Military will send people to protect me during the weapon test. Besides, that guy Rhodes is also there."
"Fine, since you have said so, then I will not insist." Loganshrugged.
He knew deeply that once Tony went this time and returned, his face would never be able to show the current smile again. The only thing he could do was simply make this guy suffer a little less.
"Alright, see you in a while."
Tony waved his hand, got into the Military jeep, and drove away.
Pepper on the side looked at the departing car shadow and could not help muttering to herself, "I always feel like there is some ominous premonition."
Logan thought inwardly, 'Your intuition is really spot on. Being locked in a cave by people for three months, eating less than a chicken every day, sleeping later than a dog, and constantly threatened by shrapnel flowing into the heart.'
During this period of time, this guy probably thought through the contents of his will dozens of times, yet still gritted his teeth and persisted. This was also the reason why his personality later became so resilient.
After greeting Pepper, Logan returned home and began researching where those people from the Ten Rings Gangwould lock Tony up.
From the scenes in the original movie, it can be deduced that the detention location is located in Kunar Province in northeastern Afghanistan, and the only mountain range matching the cave characteristics is the Hindu Kush Mountains.
That place is not small; without GPS for precise positioning, trying to find it is like looking for a needle in a haystack.
But it does not matter; relying on Beast-level perception, would it not be clear how to find someone?
He planned to set off a month later. Anyway, this month was enough for this guy to draw out the design for mark iin his brain, and maybe mark ii could even appear ahead of time.
On February 11, during a weapon test, Tony encountered an attack by a team of Terrorists. The soldiers responsible for protecting him died on the spot, and his whereabouts became unknown.
On February 12, the Military dispatched three search and rescue teams to launch a rescue mission.
On March 8, Rhodes, seeing that he could not keep it hidden much longer, made a phone call into Stark Tower.
Pepper received the call, and after hearing all the contents, the color on her face faded completely clean.
She immediately found Logan, who was on vacation at home, and after briefly explaining the situation, she cried bitterly, "Logan, you must find Tony, please."
Chapter 13 Saving the Tycoon
Pepper's crying still lingered in the office, but Logan had already snubbed out the cigar in his hand.
He stood up, the hem of his flight jacket brushing against the armrest of the sofa. Most of his usual casual and cynical demeanor had vanished, leaving a trace of a wild wolf's cold, fierce aura at the corners of his eyes.
"What are you crying for? He's not even cold yet." He grabbed the work cap hanging over the back of the chair and pulled it onto his head, his voice low. "Arrange a private plane to Afghanistan for me, and send me the coordinates where the Military last received a signal. Charge the expenses to Tony's account. Anyway, if he has nothing else, he certainly has more greenbacks than he knows what to do with."
Pepper abruptly raised her head, her eye sockets red, yet she still forced a professional composure. 'The Military has already dispatched three search and rescue teams, but the terrain of the Hindu Kush mountains is too complex, and the signal is completely cut off...'
"By the time the search and rescue teams dig him out, his bones will already be moldy." Logan snorted, grabbed the tin flask from the corner of the table, unscrewed it, and took a heavy swig of whiskey. The spicy liquor burned down his throat, completely revivifying his state. "Trusting them is worse than trusting me. I want to take off in three hours, so don't hold things up."
He wasn't boasting.
His Beast-grade senses were never just for show. As long as Tony was still breathing, even if he were buried deep within the belly of the mountain, Logan could dig him out by following that trace of living scent.
Three hours later, the private plane landed at a makeshift Military airfield on the border of Afghanistan.
Logan stepped down with a somewhat worn backpack slung over his shoulder, stuffed with three boxes of Cubacigars, two bottles of twelve-year-old whiskey, and a few blocks of compressed rations. He didn't even bring a gun.
To him, his six Adamantium claws were the handiest weapons of all.
Parked by the airfield was a modified dirt bike arranged in advance by Pepper through a local informant. Although it couldn't compare to his treasured harley, it was durable enough for mountain roads.
Logan let out a whistle and patted the seat, straddled it, and twisted the throttle. The roar tore through the dead silence of the border, and the wheels kicked up a sky full of yellow sand as he plunged headfirst into the rolling Hindu Kush mountains.
The deeper they went into the mountains, the more rugged and uneven the road became.
The gravel caused the tires to constantly slip, and the dry, hot wind carrying grit lashed against his face, feeling like it was being scraped by fine knives.
Logan squinted his eyes, not caring in the least, but his nose twitched constantly, filtering through the countless mixed scents in the air.
Diesel, gunpowder smoke, dried sheep dung, the earthy smell of mountain rocks, and an extremely faint trace of aftershave almost crushed by the dust storm.
It was the citrus-scented cologne that Tony frequently used.
This guy—even after being kidnapped, he still retained a bit of perfume scent. He really never learned his lesson.
Logan's mouth twitched, and he twisted the throttle another half a notch with his foot.
Following that vague, elusive scent deeper into the mountain belly for nearly two hours, traces of artificial excavation finally appeared ahead in the mountain col.
Logan killed the engine, pushed the motorcycle into a rock crevice to hide it, and silently crept up to the nearby commanding height with his backpack on his back.
Crouching behind the protruding limestone, he looked up. A huge cave was excavated halfway up the mountain, with two Soviet-made heavy machine guns mounted at the entrance. Scattered around were six patrolling guards, each carrying paint-chipped AK-47s, vigilantly scanning the valley with cautious expressions.
Four Military tents were pitched beside the cave, where figures could be vaguely seen swaying. A rough calculation showed there were at least roughly thirty or forty armed personnel.
It was the Ten Rings Gang!
Logan bit down on his cigar, knowing it well in his heart.
This gang had run rampant in Kandahar on the border of Afghanistan for many years, and the blood on their hands could dye half the valley red. Kidnapping, extortion, and arms trading—they stopped at nothing.
For Tony to last a month in their hands meant not only that he still had utility value, but also that his life was indeed tough enough.
He wasn't in a hurry to make a move.
It was two o'clock in the afternoon, the time when the Sunwas most fierce. The guards looked vigilant, but in reality, their mental energy had long been worn down to almost nothing by the blazing heat.
Nightfall was the best cover. By the time this bunch had lost most of their energy, his counterattack would be a case of resting while the enemy exhausted themselves.
Leaning against the cool rock, he leisurely finished smoking a cigar, took another swig of liquor, and simply closed his eyes to rest and recuperate.
Yet his ears weren't idle; he heard the footsteps near the cave, the snoring inside the tents, and the guards' muddled Arabic conversations crystal clearly, quietly sketching out the defense layout of the entire stronghold in his mind.
Where the hidden sentries were, where the ammunition boxes were piled, and which area the hostages were locked in—not a single detail was off.
From deep within the cave came a faint metallic tapping sound, one strike after another, steady and rhythmic, interspersed with the low conversation of two people.
One of the voices carried a hint of tired hoversomeness; it was precisely Tony.
Since he still had the strength to hammer away, it seemed he wasn't going to die. Logan let out a sigh of relief inwardly, though the corners of his mouth still turned down in a smirk.
This guy, he couldn't stay idle no matter where he went.
When the sky completely darkened, the temperature in the mountains plummeted by more than ten degrees.
The guards lit two bonfires, sat around them roasting flatbread and chatting, their vigilance dropping to the lowest.
Logan stood up and stretched his finger joints, his knuckles making a series of fine, clicking sounds.
He hid his backpack in a rock crevice, carrying only his flask and half a box of cigars, and crouched down to sneak down silently.
The first target was the hidden sentry on the west side of the cave entrance.
That fellow was hiding behind a rock, listlessly picking the dirt from under his fingernails, completely unaware that the God of Death had already closed in right behind him.
Logan formed his palm into a blade and accurately chopped the back of the opponent's neck. Before the person could fall, his other hand was already supporting the head, giving his wrist a gentle twist.
With a soft click, the guard didn't even groan before collapsing limply.
Logan dragged the corpse and hid it behind a rock, his movements as light as a cat's. His Baguazhang footwork stepping on the gravelly ground didn't produce even a shred of excess noise.
The second, the third... The six peripheral patrollers were dealt with by him one by one, without alarming the people by the bonfires the entire time.
Until he crept up to the side and rear of the bonfire, when a guard got up to piss nearby and turned his head right into Logan's eyes.
That fellow froze for a full second, opening his mouth to shout.
Logan's figure flickered, instantly closing in on him. His left hand tightly muffled the man's mouth, while his right hand's Adamantium claws shot out with a hiss. A cold flash pierced straight through the opponent's heart.
Warm blood splattered on the back of his hand, and Loganexpressionlessly lowered the corpse down slowly.
But it was still a step too late. Someone by the bonfire noticed the commotion, shouted out in Arabic, and instantly everyone picked up their guns, the sound of bullets being chambered merging into one.
"Who is out there? Come out!"
Logan clicked his tongue. 'What a pain.'
He stopped hiding, straightened up, and walked out from the shadows. The flickering light of the bonfire reflected on his face, half bright and half dark, his gaze as cold as ice.
He spoke, his voice not loud, yet it clearly overpowered the crackling of the bonfire. 'Can someone tell me whether Tony Stark lives here?'
Chapter 14: Save the Billionaire 2
The guards were stunned for a moment, then simultaneously raised their guns to aim at him, cursing profanities, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat——
The gunshots instantly shattered the silence of the valley.
Logan's eyes narrowed, and Magnetic Field Manipulationwas instantly activated.
His magnetic field ability was still only Beta-class at the moment, far from Magneto's level of flipping his hand to stir up metal storms, but it was more than enough to deflect rifle bullets.
Those bullets fired at him seemed to hit an invisible barrier, their flight trajectories wildly deflecting as they grazed past his body, pattering against the rock wall behind him and kicking up a cloud of debris and dust.
The cursing around the campfire abruptly stopped, and everyone widened their eyes, their faces filled with disbelief.
Taking advantage of their daze, Logan had already rushed forward, moving as fast as an afterimage. In a few steps, he crossed over to the campfire, and a Tishan Kao from Baji Quan slammed fiercely into the burly man at the very front.
That guy weighed at least two hundred pounds, yet his entire body flew backward as if he had been hit by a truck. His chest visibly collapsed inward, and after twitching twice on the ground, he stopped moving.
Steel claws popped out, and a cold flash vanished in the firelight.
Treading the Bagua Step under his feet, Logan shuttled through the crowd with an erratic figure. Every time his steel claws swung, they dragged out a trail of boiling hot blood.
His movements were as clean as a textbook, without a shred of extra tricks, and every strike landed precisely on vital points.
Throat, carotid artery, heart, back of the neck—every move was fatal.
A guard raised his gun butt to smash fiercely at the back of Logan's head. Logan sidestepped quickly to dodge, his left hand instantly grabbing the opponent's arm and twisting it smoothly. The sound of shattering bones was crisp and piercing.
The opponent's miserable scream had just rushed to his throat when the right claw had already slashed across his neck.
In a mere five minutes, a patch of corpses lay scattered around the campfire.
The intense smell of blood mixed with the scent of gunpowder drifted farther and farther away in the night wind.
The remaining three guards were frightened pale, retreating while frantically pulling the triggers. Once their bullets ran out, they threw away their guns, turned around, and bolted desperately into the cave.
Logan did not chase them. He merely flicked the blood droplets off his claws, felt in his pocket for a cigar to hold in his mouth, lit it with the campfire that had not yet gone out, and took a leisurely puff.
Run? Where are you running to?
There was only one exit to the cave; once blocked, it would be like catching turtles in a jar.
With a ferocious grin, he stepped over the corpses and bullet casings littering the ground, walking step by step toward the cave entrance.
The two heavy machine guns at the entrance were still mounted on sandbags. The two machine gunners had long since been scared out of their wits, their fingers trembling like sieve chaff on the triggers, unable to press down for a long time.
Logan raised his eyelids, his brow slightly furrowing.
Heavy machine gun bullets had a large kinetic energy, making them harder to deflect than rifle bullets.
He simply couldn't be bothered to dodge, focusing his magnetic field ability on the gun barrels. With a creaking sound of metal twisting, the two thick gun barrels instantly turned into twisted dough twists, completely ruined.
The two machine gunners let out a shrill scream, abandoned their guns entirely, and turned to drill into the cave.
Logan followed closely behind, unhurried and leisurely, as if strolling in his own backyard.
Inside the cave, it was very dark, with only a few kerosene lamps hanging on the rock wall, their dim yellow light making the shadows flicker uncertainly.
The internal structure was more complex than imagined, with quite a few fork roads, but Logan's hearing had long since locked onto Tony's location, and he walked inward following that familiar tapping sound.
Along the way, a few guards who rushed over upon hearing the commotion occasionally popped out, only to be casually dealt with by him.
The muffled thuds of steel claws piercing into flesh echoed in the empty cave, carrying a dull reverberation, yet they failed to alert the people deeper inside.
Walking to the deepest fork in the road, he stopped his footsteps. From the left came dense and hurried footsteps; at least a dozen people were rushing this way.
Behind the stone door on the right was where Tony was located. One could faintly hear Raza's vicious, angry roar, as well as Tony's impatient retort.
"I've already said it so many times, this thing cannot be rushed! If you keep urging, urging, urging, once the electromagnet runs out of power, I'll die right here, and not only will you not get your weapons, but you won't get your money either!"
"Mr. Stark, I advise you best not to play tricks." Raza's voice was dark and cold. "Otherwise, I wouldn't mind cutting off one of your fingers first to help you wake up."
The corners of Logan's mouth curled into a cold sneer.
Play tricks? It would be a wonder if this fellow didn't play tricks. Judging by this tapping sound, the skeleton of the mark i was practically being hammered out by now, right?
Disregarding the mob of grunts rushing over from the left, he turned directly and walked toward the heavy stone door on the right.
The stone door was cast from refined iron and locked tightly.
Logan raised his hand, his three steel claws popping out, and slashed fiercely at the position of the door lock.
Adamantium cut through iron like mud, and the bowl-thick iron lock was sliced open like tofu, crashing onto the ground with a clang.
He kicked the stone door open.
The people inside turned their heads at the same time.
Tony was wearing a tattered gray prison uniform, his chest wrapped in filthy bandages, exposing the crude electromagnet device on the outside. His face was stained with black oil and covered in stubble, looking as disheveled as a street vagrant.
Standing beside him was a middle-aged man wearing thin-rimmed glasses, who was none other than Doctor Ethan, clutching a wrench in his hand with a nervous expression.
Standing opposite them was a bearded man holding a Desert Eagle; he was Raza, the leader of this stronghold of the Ten Rings Gang.
Behind him stood four close-protection guards, raising their guns in unison to aim at the doorway.
Their eyes met, and the entire stone chamber instantly fell silent.
Tony's eyes widened round, and the wrench in his hand almost dropped to the ground, his tone filled with disbelief: "Logan? Why are you here? Weren't you slacking off in New York?"
"Here to collect the corpse." Logan bit on his cigar, leaning against the doorframe and glancing lazily at him. "Just checking to see if you're dead yet. If you are, I'll go back to the HR department to submit my resignation letter and, by the way, sell your collected sports car to exchange for wine."
Raza reacted the fastest, his expression sinking abruptly as he shouted sternly: "Fire! Kill him!"
The four guards pulled their triggers simultaneously.
Logan's gaze turned cold, no longer holding back like outside.
His magnetic field ability was activated to its fullest, and all the bullets suddenly stopped half a meter in front of him, hovering in the air and trembling slightly. The next second, they abruptly reversed direction and shot back along their original paths toward the four guards.
Puff, puff, puff——
With four muffled thuds, the four guards were shot between the eyebrows and fell straight down.
Raza's pupils constricted sharply, a genuine fear appearing on his face for the first time.
Without even thinking, he sidestepped and yanked Tonyover, pressing his gun tightly against Tony's temple while shrinking his body behind Tony, revealing only half his head.
"Don't come over! One more step forward and I'll blow his head off!"
Tony rolled his eyes heavily, but didn't struggle.
He knew Logan had great abilities and would definitely be able to save him.
Even if taking a real bullet wouldn't necessarily kill him, the pain was truly painful.
He could only frantically wink at the other party, signaling this fellow not to mess around under any circumstances.
Chapter 15 Saving the Billionaire 3
Logan raised an eyebrow, slowly straightened up, and kept walking step by step inside without stopping.
"Do you think this piece-of-junk gun in your hand can hurt him?" His tone was frivolous, but his eyes were bone-chillingly cold. "Drop the gun, and I will give you a quick death. Otherwise, you will die a very ugly death."
"In your dreams!" Raza gritted his teeth, the veins on his hand gripping the gun bulging from the exertion. "Are you a Mutant? I've heard of you monsters... I didn't expect Starkto actually hire a monster as a bodyguard."
He had spent over a decade lingering in the Middle Eastand had heard plenty of rumors about Mutants, only ever taking them for legends. It wasn't until seeing one with his own eyes for the first time today that he realized how terrifying these people were.
"You don't deserve to know."
Logan did not stop walking, leaving only three steps between him and Raza.
Raza completely panicked. Knowing that shooting was useless, he simply shoved Tony hard, grabbed the Militarydagger hidden in his cuffs, and pounced toward Logan with a roar.
He was a former member of the special forces, with vicious and tricky moves. The dagger stabbed straight at Logan's heart, and every single move was a desperate, mutual-destruction tactic.
Ordinary special forces soldiers wouldn't even be able to get close to him in groups of three or five, but unfortunately for him, the one he encountered was Logan.
Logan sidestepped to dodge the dagger, his left hand precisely clasping the opponent's wrist, and with a slight application of force, the dagger dropped to the ground with a clatter.
Raza let out a muffled grunt of pain, his other hand forming a fist and fiercely smashing toward Logan's side face with a rushing sound.
Logan tilted his head to dodge, naturally thrusting his knee out to heavily slam into the opponent's lower abdomen.
Raza's body instantly bent like a shrimp, and he almost vomited his stomach acid.
"Just this little bit of skill?" Logan sneered, his right hand forming a claw using the eagle-catching stance of Xingyiquan, clasping the opponent's shoulder and pressing it downward, while his other elbow heavily smashed into his back.
With a crisp "crack," the sound of the spine breaking was clearly audible.
Raza let out a miserable scream, collapsing directly to his knees on the ground, with fresh blood continuously gushing from his mouth.
Logan walked around to his front and squatted down.
"Forgot to tell you." He popped out his steel claws, the cold light reflecting in Raza's unfocused pupils, "Kidnapping my boss comes with a price."
Swoosh——
The steel claws precisely pierced through the heart. Razatwitched twice, his head tilted to the side, and he completely lost his breath.
After finishing off Raza, Logan finally stood up, shook the blood off his claws, and looked at Tony and Ethan who were still stunned in place.
Tony snapped back to his senses. Looking at the corpses all over the floor and then at Logan's indifferent expression, the corners of his mouth twitched: "You guy, you're still as violent as ever. Can't you be a bit more civilized?"
"Talk civility with kidnappers? Was your brain blown up by shrapnel?" Logan walked over, looked over the electromagnet device on his chest, glanced sideways at the unfinished mark i skeleton next to them, and raised an eyebrow: "What on earth is this? An Iron Man armor? If you came two days later, could you have driven this pile of scrap metal out yourself?"
"Naturally." Tony stubbornly raised his chin, but just as he tried to straighten his back, it aggravated the wound on his chest, causing him to hiss and draw a sharp breath: "All right, stop talking nonsense, hurry up and get me out of this ghost place. This crappy car battery can't last much longer; once it runs out of power, I'll have to go see my dad."
Doctor Ethan pushed up his glasses, nodded gratefully toward Logan, his tone sincere and gentle: "Thank you, sir. If not for you, I'm afraid we truly wouldn't have made it to tomorrow."
"Don't thank me, he pays my wages." Logan waved his hand, pointing at Tony, "Hurry up and pack your things; bring whatever can be used, and throw away whatever can't. I've dealt with the people outside, and leaving now means we can still make it back in time for a hot meal."
Ethan smiled, turning around to briskly pack up the medical supplies and backup batteries.
Tony, on the other hand, leaned against the cold rock wall, watching Logan's back as he squatted down to search through Raza's pockets, his gaze somewhat complicated.
It wasn't that he hadn't thought about dying in this sunless cave.
Tortured by shrapnel every day, hammering away at a pile of scrap metal, he had even written over a dozen versions of his will in his heart.
He thought the ones who would rescue him would be the Military or Rhodes, but he never expected that the first person to find him would be this bodyguard who usually joked around, slacked off at work, and smoked with him.
This guy never said anything serious, yet when it came to getting things done, he was more reliable than anyone else.
"Hey, Logan." Tony spoke up, his voice a bit hoarse and carrying a hint of awkwardness.
"What?" Logan didn't even look back, disgustedly tossing the inferior cigarettes from Raza's pocket back.
"...Thanks."
The voice was very small, like a mosquito's buzz, almost inaudible mixed in with the echoes of the cave.
Logan froze for a moment, then smiled and stood up: "No need for thanks; just give me a raise when we get back. Also, the business trip allowance for this trip has to be doubled. In this ghost place of Afghanistan, the wind is full of sand, and I can't even smoke my cigars smoothly."
Tony rolled his eyes hard, and the trace of emotion that had managed to well up in his heart instantly vanished into thin air.
As expected, one should never harbor any unrealistic expectations toward this guy.
Ethan quickly packed up the things, and the three of them walked outward.
Tony walked very slowly. The electromagnet on his chest tugged at the wound, making him frown in pain with every step.
Seeing this, Logan didn't say anything, walking over and directly propping the man under his arm.
"Hey! What are you doing! Put me down!" Tony struggled a bit, tugged at his wound, and hissed even more severely.
"Less nonsense. At your snail's pace, we wouldn't get out even by dawn." Logan's arm held him steadily like an iron clamp, and without looking back, he said to Ethan, "Doctor, keep up."
Ethan smiled and nodded, carrying the medical bag and following behind.
The remaining few guards in the cave had long since run off through the side tunnels, and Logan couldn't be bothered to chase them.
A bunch of lackeys without a leader; killing them or not made no difference, as they couldn't stir up any trouble.
When they walked out of the cave, the horizon was just beginning to turn pale with dawn.
The early morning mountain breeze blew across the canyon, carrying a bit of nighttime chill and dispersing the thick smell of blood on their bodies.
Logan raised his head to look at the sky, silently calculating in his heart.
From the day Tony was kidnapped until today, neither more nor less, it had been exactly one month.
"Just right." He murmured.
"What's just right?" Tony raised his head in confusion. Because of the excessive movement, his cheek accidentally brushed against Logan's jacket, and he frowned in disgust.
"Nothing." Logan twitched the corner of his mouth, propping him up as they walked toward where the motorcycles were hidden, "The rendezvous helicopter should be arriving at the extraction point soon. Let's get out of this ghost place first. When we get back, you have to give me a week's vacation; running this trip has meant I haven't been able to have a good drink."
Tony leaned against Logan's arm, listening to the steady and powerful heartbeat of the person beside him and the faint roaring sound of the helicopter echoing from the distant horizon. The heart that had been hanging for a whole month finally settled completely.
He knew that starting from walking out of this cave, many things would be different.
The days of slacking off and being lazy would also be gone forever.
As for Tony, this guy would find his own mission.
Chapter 16 Shares
The private jet broke through the clouds and flew in the direction of New York.
Tony slumped in the leather seat, the electromagnet on his chest still humming faintly, the grease on his face uncleaned, looking just like he had just crawled out of a coal mine.
He stared at Logan opposite him, who had his legs crossed and was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, the corners of his mouth twitching repeatedly.
"I say, can't you drink slower? You don't have to go all out just because it's free on the plane, right?"
Logan put down the bottle, wiped his mouth, and let the liquor drip down his stubble without caring: "If it's free, it'd be a waste not to drink it. Besides, saving your life, what's wrong with drinking two bottles of your wine? If you hired me outside for this kind of life-risking job, the price would be much higher than this."
"Expensive? Isn't the salary I pay you enough?" Tony rolled his eyes, reaching out to touch the sunglasses in his pocket, only to grab empty air and remember he was wearing a prisoner's uniform now with nothing left: "I've figured it out, in your eyes, besides money, there's only wine, nothing else."
"Otherwise what? Talk to you about ideals?" Logansneered, pulled a cigar from his bag, and bit it in his mouth without lighting it.
Smoking wasn't allowed on the plane, and he still understood that little rule: "My ideal is not to go to work, to walk the dog, drink, and fish at home everyday. If you hadn't given me so much, I would have resigned long ago."
Tony was choked speechless by him, and simply turned his head to look out the window.
Only as he looked and looked, the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved up a bit.
He believed these words.
If someone else had saved him, who knows how they would have shown immense gratitude and loyalty to climb up; only this guy Logan, from start to finish, kept muttering about salary, subsidies, and holidays, without the slightest intention of trying to cozy up.
It was precisely because of this that he felt it was rare.
When the plane landed at the private airport in New York, Pepper had long been waiting on the tarmac with people.
Seeing Tony get off the plane, her eyes instantly turned red, and the documents she was clutching were crumpled, yet she still forced herself to maintain her professionalism and hurried forward.
"Mr. Stark, it's truly great that you're alright."
"What could possibly happen to me." Tony shrugged feebly, just trying to act cool when his steps weakened for a moment, and Logan beside him reached out and gave him a hand.
He glared at Logan, signaling not to ruin his act, before continuing to pull out a smile at Pepper: "How is the company over there?"
"The news has been kept under tight wraps; the outside world only knows you lost contact during an inspection in Afghanistan for three days, and it hasn't fermented into a kidnapping news story yet." Pepper reported quickly, her gaze swiftly sweeping over the exposed electromagnet device on Tony's chest, and then looking at Logan beside him who was covered in bloodstains yet biting a cigar like nothing was wrong, a trace of lingering fear flashing in the depths of her eyes: "The stock price has only fluctuated by less than two points, and Obadiah has already been stabilizing the situation. Once you show your face, it will bounce right back up soon."
"Consider him sensible." Tony snorted, but he was crystal clear in his mind. He had some idea what scheme that old man Obadiah was hatching, but he didn't have the energy to argue with him right now.
The group got into the cars and headed toward the downtown area. Logan didn't cram into the same car as Tony, instead riding the harley Pepper had sent over, following behind the motorcade.
The wind poured into his collar, blowing away the lingering smell of gunpowder and blood on his body. With the cigar in his mouth, he didn't twist the throttle fast, swaying leisurely as if he were out for a joyride.
When the motorcade arrived at Stark Tower, a good number of reporters had already surrounded downstairs.
When Tony got out of the car, the camera flashes instantly lit up into a sheet. He raised his hand to block them, wearing his habitual dissolute smile, and dismissed the matter of losing contact in just a few words into the microphone, only claiming that he encountered a sandstorm during the inspection, got separated from the team, and was rescued by local herdsmen.
A pack of ghost stories, yet no one dared to question it.
Logan parked the motorcycle in the underground garage and didn't go up to join the hustle and bustle.
He directly took the elevator back to the lounge on the 36th floor. The first thing he did was take off his blood-stained jacket and throw it out for dry cleaning, then took a hot shower, changed into a clean white tank top and cargo pants, and collapsed onto the sofa like he was falling apart.
Although he didn't suffer any serious injuries this trip, his nerves had been constantly strained—staying up late waiting and fighting and killing—even with his healing factor, he felt a bit tired.
He had barely dozed off for ten minutes when the door of the lounge was pushed open.
Tony had changed into a clean suit, the electromagnet on his chest covered by his shirt, with only a faint outline bulging out.
He was holding a document in his hand and threw it onto the coffee table in front of Logan.
"What is this?" Logan opened his eyes, glanced at the cover of the document, and didn't reach out to take it.
"Look for yourself." Tony sat down on the opposite sofa, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and spoke in a deliberately casual tone: "2% of the shares of Stark Industries, consider it your bonus for this trip."
Logan raised an eyebrow, reached out, picked up the document, and flipped through it.
Black and white on paper, official seals and signatures all complete, it wasn't a joke.
He quickly calculated in his mind: with Stark Industries' current market value, 2% of the shares... Good grief, it was enough to lie down and smoke cigars and drink whiskey for the rest of his life.
"Yo, so generous?" He put down the document and looked at Tony with a smile: "Aren't you afraid I'll resign and run away after taking the shares?"
"Can you run away?" Tony rolled his eyes, took a sip of wine, paused, and lowered his voice slightly, losing his usual frivolous manner: "Also, I won't tell anyone about your identity as a Mutant."
The lounge fell silent for a few seconds.
Logan looked at him and suddenly smiled.
He reached out and patted Tony's shoulder with a moderate force, without speaking; everything was in that smile.
Tacit understanding.
He knew Tony was smart; in the cave, bullets turning around and gun barrels twisting like hemp flowers—anyone with a brain could guess something was wrong.
Tony didn't ask or probe to the bottom, but instead took the initiative to say he would keep it secret, which was much more open and straightforward than he had expected.
"Fine, consider I owe you a favor." Logan picked up the document, shoved it into his pocket, and resumed his scoundrel look: "However, shares are shares, the salary still needs to be raised, and as for that week of vacation of mine, don't even think about reneging."
"In your dreams." Tony scolded in exasperation, but felt relieved in his heart.
He was actually quite afraid of Logan exchanging polite pleasantries with him; now this felt just right: "I'll give you two weeks of vacation, paid. But there's one condition: your phone must be turned on, and I need to be able to reach you if something comes up."
"Deal."
The two chatted idly for a few more words before Tonywas called away by Pepper to attend a board meeting.
Pocketing the share documents, Logan leisurely left Stark Tower.
He didn't go straight home; instead, he made a detour to the hospital.
Ethan's family had already arrived, and having received notification long ago, were waiting at the hospital for checkups at this moment.
Although Ethan didn't suffer any serious injuries, a month of fear and anxiety had made him lose a large circle of weight.
Seeing Logan walk in, he quickly stood up, his face full of gratitude.
"Mr. Howlett, why are you here?"
"Just passing by, seeing if you're dead yet." Logan leaned against the door frame, shaking the fruit basket he was carrying—just casually grabbed from the downstairs convenience store, the packaging all crumpled: "Have all your relatives arrived?"
"They're here, they're here." Ethan nodded with a smile, pointing to the inner ward where his wife was holding their child and shedding tears: "Thanks to you, otherwise our family..."
"Stop right there, don't say polite formalities." Loganinterrupted him, pulled a bank card from his pocket and threw it over: "There's one million U.S. dollars inside, Tonyasked me to give it to you as a resettlement allowance. Whether you want to stay in the United States or go back in the future, do as you please. If you want to work, let me know later; Tony has plenty of positions for you over there."
Ethan pinched the bank card, stunned for a long time without coming to his senses. He knew Mr. Stark was generous, but he never expected him to be generous to this extent. By the time he wanted to say thank you again, Logan had already turned and left, leaving only a swaying figure behind.
Leaving the hospital, Logan mounted his harley and headed straight for home.
Just as he drove to the entrance of the residential complex, he saw John walking that French bulldog, with Helen arm-in-arm with him, looking much better in complexion than before.
"Logan?" John saw him and was a bit surprised: "Haven't seen you walking the dog these past few days, were you away on a business trip?"
"Yeah, went out of town to take care of some business." Logan took off his helmet, replied casually, and his gaze swept over Helen: "How is Helen's health?"
"Much better, the Doctor said it's well controlled." Helennodded with a smile, her tone full of gratitude: "Last time thanks to your reminder, otherwise we wouldn't have taken it seriously. Are you free tonight? Come over to our house for dinner."
"Next time, just got back, covered in dust." Logan waved his hand, didn't chat much more, twisted the throttle, and entered the residential complex.
Chapter 17 Coulson's Visit
As soon as the car stopped steadily, a hurried sound of claws scratching against the door came from the yard, mixed with whimpering low growls.
Logan smiled, took out the key and just opened the door when a black shadow rushed over, almost knocking him off balance.
It was Ares.
It had only been a few days since they last met, and this fellow seemed to have grown a bit more. Its fur shone brightly, its paws scratched his arms, its tail wagged like a little motor, and its tongue licked his face wildly.
"Alright, alright, stop licking, it's filthy." Logan pushed the dog's head away with a smile, bent down to rub its ears, "Were you a good boy at home? You didn't tear up the house, did you?"
The temporary nanny hired to look after the dog nearby hurriedly said, "Ares has been very good, it's just that every day it crouches at the door waiting for you to come back."
Logan's heart softened for a moment, and he rubbed the dog's head a couple more times.
He settled the nanny's wages, and after she left, he slumped onto the sofa. Ares immediately edged closer, resting its head on his legs, lying there obediently and motionless.
He rested for just a short while, then took out his phone and called Maggie.
It rang three times before the other side answered. The background noise was a bit loud, sounding like it was in a coffee shop.
"Hello? You're back?" Maggie's voice carried a hint of pleasant surprise, along with a bit of deliberate, suppressed care.
"Yeah, just got home." Logan had an unlit cigar between his lips, his fingers stroking Ares's fur, "Free tonight? Come over for dinner."
"No, I have to help Matt review tonight." Maggie paused, then softly added, "Are you okay? You sound a bit tired."
"What could possibly be wrong, I just went on a business trip." Logan didn't say much else, "Alright then, go do your thing, I'll come find you tomorrow."
After hanging up the phone, he didn't have much appetite, so he simply took Ares out for a walk.
The man and dog walked leisurely along the street, and the setting sun stretched their shadows out very long.
When passing by the park, Ares happily ran around a couple of times, and when it came back, it had a branch in its mouth, presenting it to him like a treasure.
Logan took the branch with a mix of amusement and exasperation and threw it away. Watching the dog happily trot off to retrieve it, the lingering hostility he had accumulated from killing people unknowingly dissipated by more than half.
Meanwhile, at the S.H.I.E.L.D. New York branch.
Nick Fury stood before the large screen, his single eye staring at the satellite photos sent back from above, his face as dark as the bottom of a pot.
The photos showed the cave stronghold in the Hindu Kush Mountains. Corpses lay scattered across the cave entrance, the rock walls were riddled with bullet holes, and the barrels of two heavy machine guns were twisted into bizarre pretzel shapes.
"Tony Stark has broken free. Have you found out who saved him?" His voice was low, carrying his habitual oppressive presence.
Agent Coulson stood to the side, holding a folder and pushing up his glasses: "There is no exact news yet. According to intelligence reports, on the day Stark went missing, his bodyguard Logan Howlett also left New York, and his private jet's destination was the Afghanistanborder. We speculate that it should be him."
"A bodyguard?" Fury narrowed his single eye, pointing at the twisted gun barrels in the photo, "Can an ordinary bodyguard twist heavy machine gun barrels like this? Can they leave dozens of militants with only a single fatal wound all over their bodies?"
"We investigated Howlett's background; his identity is very clean. Born in Texas in 1980, he served in the military, worked in security after retiring, and came to New Yorkthree years ago." Coulson paused, his tone carrying a hint of puzzlement, "But it's too clean, clean to the point of looking deliberately fabricated. Furthermore, according to the analysis of the site traces, besides close-quarters combat marks, there are also obvious signs of magnetic field disturbance."
"Mutant." Fury concisely drew a conclusion, "Go investigate and find out if he has any connection to the X-Men. In addition, head over to Stark Tower, talk to Tony Stark, and probe his stance."
"Understood." Coulson nodded in acknowledgment.
The next morning, Coulson appeared at the Stark Towerlobby carrying a briefcase.
He wore a crisp suit and a mild smile, putting on the standard airs of a government worker.
At this moment, Logan was slumped in the lounge. His vacation started counting from today, and he originally planned to leave at noon, but suddenly Jarvis's voice echoed in the room.
"Mr. Howlett, downstairs there is an Agent Coulson asking to see Mr. Stark, saying he is from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."
Logan raised an eyebrow.
S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived quite fast.
He picked up his flask, took a sip, and slowly stood up: "Where's Tony?"
"Mr. Stark is in the laboratory, and Miss Pepper has already gone to receive him."
Logan smiled playfully.
Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division—this name was so long and tongue-twisting, as if afraid others wouldn't know they dealt in covert operations.
He wasn't in a hurry to leave; instead, he sat back down on the sofa, intending to watch the show.
Before long, footsteps came from outside.
Pepper led Coulson toward the laboratory. When passing by the lounge, Coulson's steps paused slightly, and his gaze pierced through the glass door, landing on Loganinside, who was puffing on a cigar with a lazy expression.
It was him.
Coulson had an idea in his mind, but his face remained expressionless as he continued walking forward with Pepper.
Inside the laboratory, Tony was pacing around a pile of parts. The electromagnet on his chest was connected to an external power supply, and with a welding torch in hand, he was pondering the blueprints for mark ii.
Hearing the footsteps, he didn't even raise his head.
"Pepper, I said, no visitors today."
"Mr. Stark, this is Agent Coulson, from... Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." After finishing that long name, Pepper herself found it a bit tongue-twisting.
Tony put down the welding torch, turned around, and wore a standard fake smile on his face: "Oh? Agent? Looking for me? I recall I haven't evaded taxes, nor have I sold contraband weapons, right?"
"Mr. Stark is joking." Coulson smiled mildly, handing over his ID, "We are here to understand the specifics of your lost contact in Afghanistan. After all, since it involves overseas militants, we need to make a record."
"A record?" Tony raised an eyebrow, pulled over a chair to sit down, and spread his hands, "There's nothing much to say. Encountered a sandstorm, got separated from the team, and was rescued by locals. It's just that simple."
"Yet according to the information we hold, you lost contact for a full month." Coulson said unhurriedly, "Furthermore, near the location where you lost contact, we discovered a militant stronghold where everyone inside was dead, and the manner of death was... very special."
Tony skipped a beat in his heart, but didn't show it at all on the surface. Instead, he scoffed: "Agent, you wouldn't happen to think I did this, would you? I was unarmed, with shrapnel still in my chest, and I could kill dozens of militants all by myself? You overestimate me too much."
"Of course not you." Coulson smiled, changing the subject, "I heard that your bodyguard, Mr. Logan Howlett, also went to Afghanistan on the day you lost contact?"
Tony was crystal clear in his mind; this was aimed at Logan. He leaned against the back of the chair, his tone casual: "Yeah, I had him go locally to look for me, is there a problem? Isn't a bodyguard's duty to protect their employer?"
"No problem." Coulson nodded, his tone flat, "It's just that we're very curious how Mr. Howlett managed to find you in the vast mountains, and how he rescued you from the hands of dozens of militants. After all, ordinary bodyguards don't seem capable of doing such things."
"He's amazing." Tony said it matter-of-factly, "Former special forces elite, hand-to-hand combat champion, isn't beating up dozens of grunts a piece of cake? Otherwise, why would I spend so much money to hire him? Just for looks?"
Coulson was choked up by him for a moment, but didn't get angry.
He knew Tony Stark had always been impervious to reasoning, and trying to pull words out of his mouth was as hard as ascending to heaven.
"Then I wonder if Mr. Howlett is around right now? We'd like to chat with him as well."
"Not here." Tony said without thinking, "Just finished saving me, exhausted, taking a vacation to rest. When he'll be back isn't certain, maybe two weeks, maybe a month, depends on his mood."
Coulson: "..."
He had already seen him earlier; this was clearly telling bold-faced lies and deliberately fobbing him off.
After chatting idly for a few more sentences without extracting any useful information, Coulson had no choice but to stand up and take his leave.
Before leaving, he deliberately glanced toward the direction of the lounge. The door was half-open, and he could faintly see a person sitting inside, raising a wine glass and shaking it at him, as if provoking him.
Coulson helplessly shook his head and turned to leave.
After the people left, Tony strolled over to the lounge, pushed open the door, and saw Logan leaning against the sofa with a malicious smile.
"You're deliberately watching me make a fool of myself, right?" Tony sat down with annoyance, "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s people have already come knocking, aren't you worried at all?"
"What's there to worry about?" Logan shrugged indifferently, took a swig of alcohol, "They don't have any evidence anyway. They can't just haul me off to be sliced up because I can fight, right? If it really came to that, you'd be the first one to object."
Tony rolled his eyes, but didn't refute.
He indeed wouldn't agree.
"However, S.H.I.E.L.D. has set their sights on you, act more low-profile from now on."
"Got it." Logan nodded nonchalantly.
He stood up, picked up the jacket draped over the back of the chair: "Alright, I'm on vacation. Don't look for me if there's nothing, and try not to look for me even if there is something. Unless it's good news like a salary raise or a bonus."
"Get lost, get lost, get lost."
Tony waved his hand impatiently, watching Logan sway as he walked out, the corners of his mouth unconsciously curling upwards.
Chapter 18 Emma
Tony had locked himself in the laboratory for three days.
When Pepper carried in a cup of coffee and pushed the door open, she almost choked on the flying fragments of parts and soldering tin smoke.
Metal plates and circuit boards were scattered all over the floor, and the originally spacious laboratory was piled up so much that there was no place to set foot. Tony had a mess of hair, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was leaning over the workbench debugging an arc-shaped metal plate. The electromagnet on his chest was connected to thick and long wires, emitting a faint cold light under the light.
"Mr. Stark, you have worked continuously for seventy-two hours." Pepper put the coffee beside his hand with a helpless tone, "Sleep for at least two hours, otherwise before the armor is built, you will exhaust yourself to death first."
"It won't." Tony didn't even raise his head, the screwdriver in his hand rapidly tightening screws, "The flight system of the mark ii is still lacking a final bit, I'll sleep after debugging it."
Pepper sighed, pulled a stack of reports from the folder and placed them beside him: "The accounts you asked me to check are organized. In the past half year, Obadiah has secretly transferred at least three batches of weapons through three offshore companies, their whereabouts unknown, and the handlers are all his confidants. Also, the signatory of the last batch of Jericho missile orders before you went missing in Afghanistan was also him."
The movement in Tony's hand stopped abruptly.
He raised his head, his usual flippancy gone from his face, and his gaze was chillingly cold: "It really is him."
Actually, he had a guess in his heart for a long time.
How could the Ten Rings Gang intercept his convoy so precisely? And how could they happen to have the missile blueprints designed by him? Aside from someone leaking secrets internally, it simply doesn't make sense.
It's just that previously, out of regard for the sentiments left by Howard, he was unwilling to think of the worst. Now that the evidence was placed before his eyes, that shred of sentiment was shattered completely.
"Keep investigating, the more detailed the better." Tonypicked up the reports and flipped through a few pages, his fingers gently tapping on the words 'offshore company', "Don't alert the enemy, I want to see what on earth he wants to do."
"I understand." Pepper nodded, and couldn't help urging again, "But you also have to take care of your health. Before Logan went on vacation, he told me to keep an eye on you and not let you torture yourself to death."
Tony scoffed: "He still has the nerve to talk about me? What else can that guy do besides drinking, smoking, and walking the dog? He took a holiday and his shadow is nowhere to be found, not even a single phone call."
Although his mouth showed extreme disdain, his heart inexplicably breathed a sigh of relief.
He was actually quite afraid of Logan getting involved. That old fellow Obadiah was extremely shady; no matter how capable Logan was, he couldn't withstand hidden arrows.
Letting that guy take a peaceful and steady vacation was also pretty good.
Watching his insincere look, Pepper couldn't help curling the corners of her mouth slightly, didn't expose him, and turned around to leave the laboratory on tiptoe.
The laboratory returned to silence, leaving only the buzzing sound of the welding torch.
Tony stared at the armor parts in his hand, his gaze sinking bit by bit.
The pitch-black month in the cave, the fear of shrapnel wandering in his blood vessels, replayed in his mind over and over again.
He used to always feel that making weapons, making money, and carpe diem—this life would just be like this.
But from the moment he walked out of the cave, many things were already different.
He picked up the coffee and took a sip, the ice-cold liquid sliding down his throat, and he sobered up a bit.
His fingers gently stroked across the armor shell, the corners of his mouth curling into a cold smile.
Since Obadiah dared to do the first, don't blame him for doing the fifteenth.
Meanwhile, Logan was lying on the lounge chair in his backyard sunbathing.
Ares was lying at his feet, his head resting on his paws, sleeping soundly with his belly rising and falling rhythmically.
On the small table next to him were whiskey, an ice bucket, and half a box of unfinished cigars.
The sunshine felt warm on his body, and Logan narrowed his eyes, almost falling asleep just like that.
Almost a week of the holiday had passed, and his daily schedule was walking the dog, fishing, having meals with Maggie, and occasionally going to the bar for a couple of drinks, living a carefree life like an immortal.
Those trivial matters of S.H.I.E.L.D., Obadiah, and the Mutant had long been cast by him to the nine heavens.
Just as he was dozing off, the doorbell suddenly rang.
Ares's ears twitched, and he raised his head, barking twice alertly toward the door.
Logan lazily opened his eyes, feeling puzzled in his heart.
Who would come at this hour? Maggie had to work, Mr. and Mrs. John went out for a trip, could it be that that fellow Tony had a sudden pang of conscience and came to send him a bonus?
He shuffled over in slippers to open the door. As soon as the door was pulled open, he raised an eyebrow.
Standing at the door was a woman in a well-tailored white suit, her platinum long hair meticulously coiled at the back of her head, with bright red lips and a cold, glamorous temperament like a piece of ice.
It was precisely the White Queen Emma Frost, one of Logan's ex-girlfriends.
"Yo, what wind blew the White Queen here?" Loganleaned against the door frame, biting an unlit cigar, looking her up and down, "Not busy managing your company, why did you run to my little rundown place? Want to keep me as a kept man again?"
Emma rolled her eyes, didn't banter with him, and directly turned sideways to squeeze in, her high heels making a crisp sound as they stepped on the floor.
She looked around the living room and frowned slightly: "Your place is indeed more decent than before. It seems the salary Stark gives you is indeed not low."
"That's for sure, after all, I traded my life for it." Loganclosed the door, pointed at the sofa, "Sit down, get whatever you want to drink, the whiskey is in the wine cabinet. Don't tell me you came here specially to see me; I don't believe it."
Emma didn't stand on ceremony either, walked to the wine cabinet to pour herself a glass of white wine, turned around and sat on the sofa, her legs crossed in an elegant posture.
She held the wine glass and swayed it gently, remained silent for a few seconds, then raised her eyes to look at Logan, her tone lacking its usual tit-for-tat and having a bit more gloom.
"The Red Devil came to find me."
Logan's hand, which was just about to light the cigar, paused for a second.
The Red Devil, Azazel.
An old-school Mutant of the Hellfire Club, whose ability was teleportation, appearing and disappearing unpredictably, and being ruthless.
Magneto had been dead for almost two years, why did he suddenly pop out to look for Emma?
"What did he want with you?" Logan lit the cigar, took a drag, and slowly exhaled the smoke, "Want to drag you to rebuild the Hellfire Club?"
"It's more troublesome than that." Emma took a sip of wine, her expression not looking very good, "He holds some old accounts of mine from back in the Hellfire Club in his hands, as well as some shady transactions of my company behind the scenes, and wants to blackmail me. Either give him a huge sum of money, or I have to follow his commands and do things for him."
Logan raised an eyebrow.
This was actually a bit interesting.
That guy the Red Devil, with Magneto dead and the Brotherhood broken up, having lost his backing, actually started doing blackmail extortion.
Also, with his ability, doing petty thievery and extortion was simply too convenient.