Chapter 43 Deep Ruby
When the Hummer drove into Xaviers School, it was just breaking dawn.
The morning mist had not yet cleared from the lawn, and Ororo and Jean had long been waiting at the entrance, with a stern-looking Scott standing behind them. Seeing Logandragging a cowering man down from the car, Scott's brow instantly knitted into a knot.
"Caliban?" Jean recognized him at once, her footsteps pausing slightly. "Is he that sensory Mutant?"
"Otherwise what, could it possibly be a guest I invited?" Logan tossed the person onto the ground. Calibanstaggered a bit, quickly shrinking his neck and squatting down properly, without the slightest thought of resistance. "This fellow is the living radar of the Raiders and a subordinate of Red Tank."
"Red Tank?" Scott's expression changed. "Hasn't he disappeared long ago?"
"Disappearing was just plotting something evil." Logansneered, patting the dust off his hands. "He captured a bunch of Mutant children to run experiments, wanting to gather an army to go against Charles. Let Charles ask the details himself; I'm too lazy to repeat it."
Just as they were speaking, the sound of a wheelchair rolling came from the end of the corridor.
Charles pushed his wheelchair over slowly. His gaze first landed on Logan with a trace of approval, then turned to Caliban squatting on the ground, his tone gentle yet carrying undeniable power: "Don't be afraid, child. I only need to confirm some information and won't harm you."
Caliban raised his head to meet Charles's eyes, and just as he wanted to struggle, mental power had already gently yet firmly probed inward.
He shivered twice, his gaze quickly becoming vacant, and stood honestly in place without moving.
A few minutes later, Charles withdrew his mental power, his expression sinking a bit more.
"Red Tank did indeed build a secret Base in the mountains, capturing twenty-seven Mutant children, mostly low-tier Mutants who had just awakened their abilities. He wants to extract the x-factor through experiments and mass-produce enhanced warriors." Charles tapped his wheelchair armrest lightly with his fingertips. "The Base's defense is very strict. Aside from Caliban's sensory early warning, there are over a dozen modified Mutants, as well as... himself."
"Then what are we waiting for, let's set off right now!" Scott stepped forward, his gaze sharp. "Rescue the children and bring Red Tank to justice!"
"Talk is cheap," Logan glanced at him sideways, saying coolly. "Go try taking a punch from Red Tank! When that guy goes crazy, he even crashes through walls; it's questionable whether your Cyclops can even break his defense."
"You—" Scott's face turned dark, and just as he wanted to retort, he was gently pulled by Jean.
"Logan is right. Red Tank's physical defense is extremely strong, and head-on brute force will put us at a great disadvantage." Jean looked at Charles. "Professor, what is your plan?"
Charles looked at Logan, his tone sincere: "Logan, this time we need you to be the main force. Cain's armor is metallic in texture, and your Magnetic Field Manipulation can restrict his movements to the greatest extent. The rest of us will be responsible for clearing out mooks, rescuing the children, and sharing the pressure for you as much as possible."
"Being the main force is no problem." Logan picked up a cigar in his mouth without lighting it, chewing on it for fun. "How is overtime pay calculated? Will pudding be all-you-can-eat afterwards?"
Charles laughed in spite of himself: "All-you-can-eat, all the flavors newly developed by Hank will be saved for you."
"I'm going too."
A cold, crisp female voice came from the entrance. Everyone turned their heads to see Raven leaning against the doorframe, not knowing when she had arrived.
She had already changed back into her normal human appearance, wearing a crisp black combat uniform, her blonde hair tied into a high ponytail, her gaze cold and piercing. "I've scouted Red Tank's Base before; I'm familiar with the structure. It's more convenient for me to sneak in and rescue people than you guys."
Scott's brow furrowed even tighter: "You? Mystique? Who knows if you are—"
"Scott." Charles interrupted him in a deep voice, his tone carrying a trace of reprimand. "Raven is one of us."
Raven sneered, too lazy to argue with Scott. Her gaze swept past Logan, and she said indifferently: "I'm just here for those children, don't overthink it."
"Only a fool overthinks." Logan shrugged. "An extra person means an extra pair of hands, better than certain people who are all talk."
"Who are you saying is all talk!" Scott bristled, but was firmly pressed down by Ororo.
Seeing that dawn was about to break, Charles didn't waste time and quickly finalized the combat plan: Jean and Scottwould make a frontal breakthrough to draw fire, Ororowould use weather abilities to control the field, Ravenwould sneak into the detention area to rescue the children, and Logan would be responsible for stalling Red Tank, the biggest trouble.
When the Blackbird fighter jet took off, the Sun had just jumped out of the horizon.
Logan leaned against the cabin wall to close his eyes and rest, while Scott beside him was still chattering away, checking the tactics, making his eyelids twitch.
"I said Cyclops, can you quiet down for a bit." Loganopened his eyes and sneered. "No matter how perfect the tactics are, it's useless if you can't withstand a punch from Red Tank. Later on, you just be responsible for providing support; don't crowd forward, lest you get knocked flying and I have to save you."
"Don't look down on people!" Scott stiffened his neck. "My Cyclops can cut through steel plates, it might not fail to break his defense!"
"Is cutting steel plates the same thing as cutting Red Tank?" Logan had just wanted to retort a couple more times when Jean helplessly stepped in to smooth things over: "Alright, alright, we're about to arrive, everyone get ready. Logan, Red Tank is left to you."
"Rest assured." Logan flicked his fingers, a Magnetic Field Manipulation flowing at his fingertips with fine metallic luster. "Just an iron tortoise, could he possibly turn the world upside down."
The fighter jet landed in the mountain forest on the periphery, and the five of them split up to act.
Logan didn't bother with any sneaking routine, swaggering toward the main entrance of the Base. The guards along the way just wanted to raise their guns when their barrels were twisted crooked by the Magnetic Field Manipulation, and then they were knocked unconscious to the ground one by one.
The alarm sound instantly resounded through the entire Base.
"Cain! Come out to welcome guests!" Logan stood in the courtyard, his voice wrapped in internal energy and transmitted outward, vibrating the window glass with a buzzing sound. "Capturing so many children, what kind of skill is that, if you have the ability, come spar with me!"
As soon as his voice fell, a loud bang of rumble was heard, and the heavy alloy gate was directly knocked flying out.
A giant standing 2.5 meters tall, wrapped all over in dark silver metal armor, stepped out, his helmet revealing only a pair of fierce eyes. With every step he took, the ground shook three times along with it.
"Where did this trash come from, daring to barge into Laozi's territory!" Red Tank's voice was like a booming bell, his roar numbing people's ears. The moment he saw Logan, without even thinking, he strode forward and rushed over, his fist smashing toward his face with a howling wind, "Court death!"
The force of this punch was easily several dozen tons. If it landed solidly, even with Logan's self-healing factor, half his bones would be shattered.
But Logan was unhurried and calm, drawing his right foot back half a step and suddenly clenching his right hand.
Buzz—
The Magnetic Field Manipulation was fully activated, and the metal armor on Red Tank instantly felt as if it were gripped by an invisible giant hand. The momentum of his charge abruptly halted, his entire body stiffening in place, and the joints of his armor emitted an unbearable creaking sound.
"Just this little strength?" Logan raised an eyebrow, intentionally provoking him. "Didn't you eat?"
"Bastard!" Red Tank roared angrily, his muscles tightening all over, and his brute strength suddenly erupted.
His power originally stemmed from the crimson Universe, and his physical strength far exceeded ordinary people. He actually forcefully resisted the restriction of the Magnetic Field Manipulation, taking another two steps forward, his fist only half a meter away from Logan, the strong wind scraping people's faces painfully.
Logan's brow slightly raised, a bit of fine sweat seeping from his forehead.
Good fellow, this iron tortoise's brute strength was truly not small; the Alpha-level Magnetic Field Manipulationactually couldn't completely lock him down.
He didn't dare to be careless, lifting his left hand at the same time, working on both fronts, pulling the Magnetic Field Manipulation to the maximum.
The surrounding steel bars, sheet metal, and even the underground metal pipes all burst out of the ground, wrapping around Red Tank's limbs and torso like pythons, layer upon layer, forcefully tying him up into a metal zongzi.
"Hold still for me!" Logan gave a low shout, his knuckles turning slightly white.
Red Tank was bound so tightly he couldn't move, yelling in fury, his face under the helmet turning red with anger: "You think this scrap metal wants to trap Laozi! In your dreams!"
He suddenly exerted force, his muscles bulging all over, and the outer metal strips actually began to snap one by one, sparks flying everywhere.
Logan was crystal clear in his heart that dragging it out like this was not a solution. Red Tank had infinite brute strength, and although his Magnetic Field Manipulationwas strong, he wouldn't be able to hold out for long.
To break the deadlock, he still had to smash that turtle-shell helmet first—without the helmet's protection, either Jean or Charles could knock him down with a casual mental shock.
Thinking of this, his gaze became stern, and he intentionally loosened the force of his left hand.
Red Tank only felt the restriction lighten, overjoyed, and swung his fist wanting to break free.
The moment his center of gravity leaned forward, Loganactivated teleportation, his figure disappearing on the spot, and when he reappeared, he was already at Red Tank's rear flank.
"Break!"
Logan gave a low roar, infusing his entire body's strength into his right claw, the Baji Quan collapsing-fist force pouring out along the steel claws, violently hacking at the seam of the helmet.
Clang——!
A piercing metallic collision sound exploded, sparks splashing all over Logan's face.
A deep crack was hacked into the helmet, but it didn't shatter completely.
Red Tank was taken aback, instinctively turning his head, a pair of alarmed and enraged eyes revealing themselves through the gap of the helmet.
"Quite tough." Logan clicked his tongue, just wanting to follow up with a second claw when Red Tank suddenly turned around, slamming his shoulder viciously toward him.
If this hit landed solidly, a few ribs would definitely have to break.
Logan dodged to the side, and Red Tank couldn't check his momentum, crashing with a rumble sound into the nearby wall. The thick concrete wall was directly knocked through into a big hole, gravel flying everywhere.
This fellow was also a ruthless person, not stopping even after crashing through the wall, actually wanting to run away directly by piercing through the wall—retreating if he couldn't win, going back to take the children and transfer them, his abacus clicking loudly.
"Want to run?" Logan sneered, opening the five fingers of his right hand and clenching hard toward Red Tank's back. "Get back here for me!"
The Magnetic Field Manipulation erupted with full force, and all the metal armor was violently tugged backward. Red Tank's charging momentum abruptly stalled, his two feet plowing two deep trenches on the ground, yet he still couldn't stop rushing out of the wall.
The man and the force locked in a contest just like that, the cracks in the wall growing larger and larger, gravel rattling down.
During the pulling, Logan suddenly felt the Magnetic Field Manipulation touch a warm, hard object inside the armor. It didn't look like metal, but instead carried a strange energy.
He instinctively increased the suction, wanting to pull that thing out to take a look.
"No!!" Red Tank suddenly let out a panicked roar, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, desperately trying to struggle forward, but it was already too late.
A gemstone the size of a chicken egg, entirely deep red, emitting eerie energy fluctuations, was forcefully yanked out from the armor on his chest, tracing a dark red arc in the air and flying straight toward Logan.
Logan was stunned for a moment, just wanting to reach out to catch it, when that gemstone seemed to have a self-awareness, 'whoosh'ing straight into his chest and disappearing without a trace.
A rolling hot power instantly exploded inside his body, flowing through his blood vessels to all four limbs and hundreds of bones, even bringing the super self-healing factor to a boil.
Logan let out a muffled grunt, instinctively pressing his chest, his brain ringing with a 'ding' sound—
'Detected crimson Universe energy core, automatically absorbed. Super self-healing factor potential enhanced, strength attribute greatly enhanced, acquired ability: Crimson Power (passively strengthens physical body and brute strength).'
Before he had time to think carefully, he heard a 'clatter' sound.
Seeing Red Tank, who had lost the gemstone, his entire body's armor relaxed at a speed visible to the naked eye, his huge body quickly shrinking, shrinking from a 2.5-meter giant into an ordinary strong man of around 1.8 meters. The armor clattered all over the floor, revealing a pale, emaciated face, his eyes rolling back, and he fainted straight down.
Logan: "..."
He lowered his head to look at his own chest, then looked at the shrunken Red Tank on the ground, the corners of his mouth twitching.
So this iron tortoise's strength entirely relied on a stone to prop it up? Turns out he was a power-bank warrior.
At this time, the battle inside the Base was also nearing its end.
Jean and Scott finished clearing out the peripheral modified humans and hurried over, just in time to see this scene, and both of them were stunned.
"This... this is Red Tank?" Scott widened his eyes, looking at that scrawny man on the ground with an expression of disbelief, "How did he turn into this?"
"Who knows, maybe he overdraw himself." Logan glossed over it vaguely, not mentioning the matter of the gemstone—Golden Fingers are the biggest secret; the more people who know, the more trouble there is.
"He fainted, tie him up and take him away."
As they were speaking, Raven and Ororo also brought the children out.
The twenty-some children were mostly scared pale in face, but fortunately none of them were seriously injured. Seeing Charles's fighter jet, light slowly appeared in their eyes.
"The children are all fine, just a little frightened." Ororobreathed a sigh of relief, looking at Red Tank on the ground, then looking at Logan, "Did you handle this?"
"Otherwise what." Logan shrugged, casually dragging the dizzy Caliban over as well, "Bring this fellow along too, he's still somewhat useful."
Everyone bustled about getting people onto the fighter jet, and the Blackbird soared into the air, flying toward Xaviers School.
Inside the cabin, the children crowded together talking in low voices, gradually having laughter.
Logan leaned in the corner, silently feeling that extra Crimson Power inside his body, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curling up—this wave was a blood profit, not only farming a bunch of points, but also getting a free strength enhancement.
When returning to the school, Charles was already waiting on the lawn.
Seeing Cain Marko being carried down and shrunk into an ordinary person, a complex expression appeared on his face—there was emotion, regret, and a hint of imperceptible fatigue.
"Professor, do you know him?" Ororo sensitively perceived it and asked softly.
Charles sighed, his gaze landing on Cain's pale face, his voice very light: "He is my stepbrother. Cain Marko, the child my father brought over after remarrying."
As soon as these words came out, the whole audience fell silent.
Scott widened his eyes: "Step, stepbrother?!"
"No wonder he always goes against you..." Jean muttered.
"When he was little, he always bullied me, feeling that I stole his father's love." Charles smiled bitterly, "He went missing later on, and I looked for him for many years, never expecting... to meet again in such a situation."
Everyone looked at each other in dismay, none of them speaking.
Even Logan, who was usually sharp-tongued, kept quiet with his cigar in his mouth—it was someone else's family matter, what business did he have blindly interfering.
Just as the atmosphere was solemn, Raven suddenly spoke: "Since the matter is resolved, I should go too."
She turned around to leave, and Charles hurriedly called out to her: "Raven."
The wheelchair rolled up in front of her. Charles looked up at her, his gaze carrying entreaty as well as years of affection: "Don't go, stay. The school needs you, and the children need you. Look, the situation for Mutants is becoming more and more difficult now, the Raiders, black-market experiments... We need more people to stand up."
Raven pressed her lips together and didn't speak, complex emotions swirling in her golden eyes.
She had been running around east and west all these years, seemingly free, but actually drifting with nowhere to rely on.
Erik was dead, the Brotherhood had scattered, and she actually had nowhere left to go long ago.
It was just that she couldn't save face, nor could she get past the hurdle of Erik dying at Logan's hands.
"I was too stubborn before, always feeling that Erik's way couldn't save Mutants." Charles's voice was gentle, carrying a touch of vicissitudes of life, "But now I understand, no matter which path, as long as it is for the good of the children, it is not wrong. Stay, let's think of a way together, alright?"
The wind blew across the lawn, stirring up a few fallen leaves.
Raven was silent for a long time, finally slowly letting out a breath, turning her face away, her tone still indifferent, yet lacking the previous cold hardness: "...Alright then. For the children's sake."
Charles's eyes lit up, and a sincere smile appeared on his face.
Beside him, Logan leaned against a pillar, sneered, and muttered softly: "Hard-mouthed and soft-hearted."
Raven had sharp ears and heard it. She turned her head and glared fiercely at him, yet didn't retort.
Logan stretched.
Alright then, although the process was a bit twists and turns, the result wasn't bad.
It's just that he didn't know to what extent his strength could rise after that deep ruby was completely digested.
Chapter 44 Palladium Poisoning
On the day Helen was discharged from the hospital, the weather was quite nice.
John had cleaned the house until it was spotless, and Daisy, wearing a newly bought small floral collar, squatted at the doorway wagging her tail and waiting all morning.
When Logan brought two bottles of whiskey over, Foxcame along as well.
She happened to be off duty, and since she had nothing better to do, she tagged along for a free meal.
As soon as the courtyard gate was pushed open, Arestrotted over happily, bumping heads and rubbing against Daisy. The two dogs squatted side by side on the lawn to bask in the Sun, their tails wagging with off-the-charts synchronization.
"You're here." John came out of the kitchen wearing an apron, his face expressionless, but his eyes looking exceptionally jubilant.
The wounds on his back were not fully healed yet, but his movements were still deft. "Sit down quickly, the dishes will be ready soon."
Helen walked out of the kitchen carrying a salad, her complexion still a bit pale, but her spirits were very high. Seeing Logan, she smiled: "Logan, Fox, come on in and sit down. We really have to thank you guys this time, otherwise John and I truly wouldn't have known what to do."
"It's no big deal." Logan placed the whiskey on the dining table, casually pulled over a chair, and sat down. "That guy wasn't anything good to begin with, taking care of him was just a matter of convenience."
Fox sat down beside them and calmly added: "Mostly because he finds it troublesome, solving it all at once saves him from people knocking on the door every day."
Logan glared at her, and Fox shrugged, picked up her Water cup and took a small sip, a hint of a smile in the depths of her eyes.
Dishes were soon laid out over a full table. They were all home-cooked meals, yet they exuded a cozy, down-to-earth warmth.
John poured wine for everyone, picked up his cup, and though he still didn't say much, his tone was very solemn: "Thank you. I won't say any superfluous words; if you need anything in the future, look for me anytime."
This was just the kind of person he was—he kept all grudges and gratitude deep in his heart without saying much, but when trouble actually struck, he was more reliable than anyone else.
Logan wasn't one to put on airs either, clinking glasses with him: "Alright, if there's ever something I can't handle in the future, I'll definitely call you."
The meal was eaten in a relaxed and comfortable manner.
Helen chatted about the Doctor's instructions when she was discharged from the hospital, and John occasionally picked a piece of fish for her, his movements natural and meticulous.
Logan and Fox chatted desultorily, occasionally complaining about New York's security, while the two dogs lay under the table chewing on bones, from time to time making satisfied whimpering sounds.
When it was time to leave, John saw them to the door and suddenly said in a low voice: "The underground circle has been chaotic lately; most of the territory left vacant by Viggo has been swallowed up by someone called Kingpin. Be careful when you go out usually."
Logan raised an eyebrow, not taking it too much to heart: "Alright, got it. If they really dare to come knocking, we'll just tear down another place."
The corners of John's mouth twitched, and he didn't take up the conversation.
He knew Logan's temperament too well; let alone one Kingpin, even if ten more came, the other party probably wouldn't be afraid at all.
Coming out of John's house, Fox turned her head and glanced at him: "Kingpin is not some local ruffian like Viggo; he has connections in both the white and black Worlds of Wall Street, and his reach extends to the heavens. Don't be too careless."
"No matter how high his reach extends, he's still just a person." Logan sneered dismissively, pulling open the car door: "If he does business honestly, I won't bother with him; if he dares to bare his teeth at me, I'll break his bones."
Fox shook her head and didn't say anything more.
She had finally figured it out: there was no such word as 'fear' in this guy's dictionary, and he would dare to reach out and poke a hole in the sky even if it fell down.
The next afternoon, Logan went to Stark Industries to find Tony.
He had originally wanted to ask about the research progress of new elements on the biomedical side to see if he could hook Tony up regarding his palladium poisoning, but as soon as he entered the laboratory, he saw Tonylying flat on the operation console, his complexion frighteningly pale, tightly grasping a cup of alarmingly green vegetable juice in his hand, with an empty sedative medicine bottle hidden in the trash can beside him.
Hearing footsteps, Tony abruptly straightened up, casually shoving the medicine bottle deep into the drawer, and forced out a smile: "A rare guest, huh? Why did you come? Not staying home keeping your dogs company, and running over to my place for a free meal?"
Logan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and sizing him up.
Dark circles under his eyes, dry lips, fingertips trembling slightly and uncontrollably, and faint burn Marks visible through his shirt at the location of the arc reactor on his chest.
The symptoms of palladium poisoning were already very obvious.
But he didn't point it out.
Tony was the kind of person who would rather die than lose face and suffer for it; the more you tried to expose him, the more stubborn his mouth would be.
"I came to see if you're dead or not." Logan walked over, casually picked up the design blueprint of the mark v on the table and glanced at it: "Immersing yourself in the lab every day and not even eating meals, do you really think you're made of iron?"
"This is called the diligence of a genius, slackers like you wouldn't understand." Tony gulped down a large mouthful of vegetable juice, his brows furrowing so much they could crush a fly, yet he still forced it down: "Right on cue, I've newly modified a set of pulse weapons, want to try them? Much more useful than those claws of yours."
"Forget it, that gadget of yours is fine for beating up gangsters, but when encountering tough opponents it's just a firework." Logan curled his lip, shifting the topic: "Right, the biomedical side has recently been exploring application directions for new elements, saying it's a material that can replace existing energy cores, with stable performance and no radiation. You can go take a look when you have time, maybe it will help that little desk lamp on your chest."
Tony's movements paused, he raised his eyes to look at him, a trace of surprise flashing in his gaze, and then he smiled flippantly: "What, you even care about my reactor? Rest assured, I won't die, I haven't finished building Mark X yet."
Stubborn.
Logan rolled his eyes in his heart, didn't expose him either, and just shrugged: "Suit yourself, anyway the one suffering isn't me. I'm leaving, stay up less late; if you really faint in the lab, Pepper will dock my salary."
"Get lost!" Tony cursed with a smile, watching Logan's figure disappear at the door before the smile on his face slowly faded away.
He looked down at his slightly trembling hands, then recalled Logan's sentence just now about 'new element replacement materials', his gaze complex.
Was this guy just mentioning it casually, or did he see something?
Logan walked out of Stark Tower, pulled out a cigar and held it between his lips without lighting it, his mind pondering whether or not to inform Tony about the new elements left behind by his father.
Tony's palladium poisoning was a hassle; if left unattended, this guy would most likely stage another pre-death debauchery spree, and then S.H.I.E.L.D. would seize the opportunity to jump out and play the good guy.
Logan didn't oppose Tony joining S.H.I.E.L.D., but the current S.H.I.E.L.D., whether it could even be called S.H.I.E.L.D., was a question Mark.
You must know that Tony's joining was subsequently linked to many things: Ultron, the Insight Project, Civil War—these basically couldn't be separated from him.
But thinking of this, Logan couldn't help wondering: why must he be so timid and overcautious? This World had already been full of anomalies for a long time, why care so much about all that?
As a friend, naturally it was impossible to watch the other party suffer right before his eyes and say nothing, right?
Moreover, he had traveled through to the present for 4 years; if he had truly disrupted the timeline, the Sorcerer Ancient One would have come looking for him long ago, and wouldn't have waited until now.
Chapter 45 Reminder
Stark Industries annual charity dinner.
The banquet hall was packed to the brim with New York's high society, the crystal chandeliers dazzling enough to make one's head spin.
As the guest of honor, Tony stood on the stage in a custom suit giving a speech, his wine glass held steady without a single tremor, his lips curved into his signature punchable smile, looking no different than usual.
Only Logan, leaning against the bar in the corner, saw right through his little disguise.
"This guy is working pretty hard to keep up appearances," Logan muttered, holding a glass of whiskey and turning to complain to Fox beside him, "He's practically at his limit, yet he's still forcing himself to throw a party. Does he really think he's made of iron?"
Fox was wearing a black evening gown, holding a glass of juice. Hearing this, she glanced indifferently at the stage: "Pepper tried to persuade him several times to cancel the banquet, but he wouldn't listen. It seems he even went out of his way to transfer Natalie over as his private assistant just to deliberately piss Pepper off."
Logan raised an eyebrow.
This meant Tony's palladium poisoning had worsened, and knowing he didn't have much time left, he was deliberately distancing himself from Pepper, wanting to push her away to spare her the heartache.
Just as they were speaking, Pepper walked over from the side door, looking a bit tired with a file in hand, evidently having rushed over right after finishing work.
She walked up to Tony, murmured something to him, her tone laced with worry.
But Tony acted as if he hadn't heard a thing. Instead, he smiled, turned slightly to clinking glasses with a socialite nearby, and made a flippant joke, prompting a string of giggles from her.
Pepper's face instantly paled a bit, her fingers tightening around the file.
She took a deep breath, stepped forward again, and tried to grab Tony's arm: "Tony, come with me for a second, I have something to say to you."
"Can't you see I'm busy?" Tony shook off her hand, his tone carrying a deliberate trace of impatience. "There are so many guests at the banquet. You're the CEO, why aren't you entertaining them instead of constantly pestering me?"
These words weren't spoken quietly, and quite a few people around turned to look. Pepper stood in place, her face turning pale then red, the disappointment in her eyes almost spilling over.
She stared at Tony for a few seconds, and finally just nodded lightly: "Fine, go ahead and be busy."
With that, she turned and left, her steps quick and steady, her retreating figure looking exceptionally stubborn.
The smile on Tony's face faded for a split second, his fingers gripping the wine glass tightening abruptly until his knuckles turned white.
But he quickly put the smile back on, turning to continue chatting and laughing with those around him, yet the deep-seated exhaustion in his eyes was impossible to hide.
This scene fell into the eyes of Natasha not far away. Holding a champagne glass, her red curls cascading over her shoulders, she seemingly scanned the venue casually, yet her gaze lingered for a second each on Tony's chest and the direction of Pepper's departure, before turning to Logan in the corner.
She had long since reported the matter of Tony's worsening palladium poisoning to Fury.
But thinking of everything that had happened to Loganover the past year or so, she wasn't sure either; this man was simply a variable.
Every verbal skirmish of mutual probing between the two of them ultimately ended in a draw, and she couldn't even be bothered to face him anymore anyway, since investigating him over and over yielded nothing concrete.
Sensing her gaze, Logan turned and raised his glass to her, the corners of his mouth curving into an ambiguous arc, his eyes completely open and candid, showing not a shred of awkwardness at being spied on.
Natasha was stunned for a moment, then gave a faint smile as well, turned, and walked away with her glass.
"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s people are keeping a pretty close eye on you," Fox spoke leisurely from the side, "The look she gave you just now was quite complicated."
"I've known her for over a year." Logan let out a scoff, draining the wine in his glass in one gulp, "It's no surprise she has a bit of a grudge since she hasn't managed to get any useful information out of me."
The banquet didn't gradually disperse until the late hours of the night.
Most of the guests had left, leaving behind only scattered cups and plates and a few waiters cleaning up in the banquet hall.
Without letting his bodyguards follow, Tony strolled over to the terrace alone, leaning against the railing to let the cold wind blow. Just as he fished out sedatives from his pocket, footsteps came from behind.
He flurriedly stuffed the medicine bottle back into his pocket, and only breathed a sigh of relief when he turned around and saw it was Logan, before flashing a flippant smile: "What? Didn't get enough play? Or did you catch your eye on some companion and want me to introduce you?"
"Cut the act." Logan walked over, leaning against the railing beside him, fished out a cigar and held it in his mouth without lighting it, "Aren't you tired of acting? You obviously care to death, yet you insist on pushing people away."
The smile on Tony's face stiffened for a moment before forcing a laugh: "What act? This is just who I am."
"Fine, this is just who you are." Logan didn't expose him, shifting the topic lazily, "Still, there's something I have to remind you of. Your father Howard personally created the Arc Reactor back then; could he not have known that the element palladium was radioactive? Could he not have known that long-term use causes poisoning?"
Tony abruptly turned his head to look at him, his gaze sharp: "What do you mean?"
"Nothing much." Logan shrugged, his tone as casual as chatting about the weather, "The older generation of researchers all like to leave a backup plan. Especially someone like your father, whose need for control is so strong that he likes to arrange everything crystal clear. Since he dared to leave the reactor to you, it's impossible that he wouldn't leave you a way out."
He paused, glanced at Tony's tight profile, and added: "Have some time to dig through the old things he left behind—blueprints, models, videotapes, and the like. Who knows, the cure might have been hidden inside all along, just waiting for you to find it yourself."
Tony stood in place without speaking, the night wind blowing the loose hair on his forehead into a mess.
He stared at Logan for a long time, trying to read something from the other's face, but Logan wore a nonchalant expression, biting his cigar and looking at the night view as if he were just chatting casually.
"You're overthinking it." Tony finally hardened his mouth, curling his lip: "He left in a rush back then, how could he have had time to leave any backup plans? Besides, if there really was a solution, wouldn't I have found it myself?"
"Fine, pretend I said nothing." Logan didn't argue with him, patted his shoulder, and turned to walk back, "Anyway, I'm not the one suffering. Enjoy the cold wind, I'm going home to sleep."
Watching Logan's retreating figure disappear into the stairwell, the nonchalance on Tony's face completely collapsed.
He clutched the railing, lowering his head to look at his slightly trembling right hand as a familiar dull pain surged from his chest.
Logan's words were like a pebble dropped into his messy heart, stirring up ripples in concentric circles.
That old man... did he really leave a backup plan?
Once this thought popped up, it could no longer be suppressed. Tony no longer had the heart to stand in the cold wind, turning and hurrying toward the underground garage, even forgetting to take his coat.
Jarvis's voice rang out in his earpiece: "Sir, your vital signs are declining. It is recommended that you return home to rest immediately."
"Not to the Villa." Tony slid into the sports car, the engine roaring violently, "To the old estate, Howard's storage room."
The sports car sped through the midnight streets, stopping in front of Stark's old Villa in less than half an hour.
Tony hadn't been to this place for many years; it was covered in dust, filled everywhere with the scent of old times.
He opened the storage room in the Underground Room, which was piled high with Howard's things from back then.
Old blueprints, vintage equipment, boxes and boxes of documents, and a few dust-covered videotapes.
Tony searched for most of the night, looking through stack after stack of blueprints and playing several videotapes. Most of them were Howard's research journals from back then, chattering endlessly about the expo's planning, with not a shred of content related to a new element.
"Damn it..." He irritably kicked a box, the pain in his chest becoming increasingly obvious, his vision even starting to blur slightly.
Just as he was about to give up, his gaze swept over a glass cover in the corner.
Inside sat an architectural model of the 1974 Stark Expo, exquisitely crafted with every single pavilion clearly visible.
He had seen this thing countless times when he was a child. Howard always said, 'This is the future I leave for you.' In the past, he just thought of it as his father's commercial propaganda and never took it to heart.
Future...
Logan's words suddenly flashed through his mind.
A thought stirred in Tony's heart. He walked over, carefully lifted the glass cover, and picked up the model.
He leaned in to look closer; the arrangement of the pavilions seemed chaotic at first glance, yet faintly revealed a certain pattern, not looking like a mere architectural layout.
"Jarvis, scan the model structure, build and analyze."
"Right away, sir."
Blue light swept across the model, and soon, a 3D stereoscopic image appeared on the screen.
Tony stared at the screen, his fingers operating rapidly as he marked out the positions of the pavilions one by one, connected them into lines, and then disassembled them into an atomic structure perspective.
When the final line was connected, a brand new atomic structure model popped up on the screen, stable in form, with an astonishingly high energy density, completely lacking the radioactive properties of palladium.
Tony held his breath, his eyes widening larger and larger.
It really exists.
Howard really left him a new element!
How was this an expo model? This was fundamentally a diagram of the new element's atomic structure!
"Jarvis... check the element's properties, confirm its safety." His voice was slightly trembling, carrying an incredulous ecstasy.
"Checked, sir. The element is stable and non-radioactive, with an energy output efficiency more than three times that of palladium, and it can completely replace the palladium core." Jarvis's voice uncharacteristically carried a hint of lightness.
Tony slammed his fist heavily onto the table, the gloom that had been suppressed for months swept away completely.
He leaned back against the chair, letting out a long breath, looking at the glowing element model on the screen, the corners of his mouth couldn't help curving upward.
Howard Stark, you old bastard, you really did leave a trick up your sleeve.
Tossing and turning for the entire night, the horizon was already turning a fish-belly white.
Tony rubbed his sore eyes, picked up the phone on the table, paused his fingertips on the screen for a few seconds, and first opened Pepper's chat window.
After thinking for a long time, deleting and editing, he finally sent only three words: I'm sorry.
After sending it, he opened Logan's chat window, equally concise: Thanks.
Not two seconds later, Logan replied with a message of just six words: Consider yourself lucky, kid.
Tony looked at the screen, shaking his head with a helpless laugh.
This guy always acts like this.
He put down his phone, stood up, and stretched, the dull pain in his chest seeming to lighten considerably.
Although synthesizing the new element would still take some effort, at least the immediate crisis was resolved.
He looked at the new element model on the screen, his eyes reigniting with the familiar, high-spirited light of the past.
On the other side, Logan had just sent out the message when Ares rubbed against the back of his hand.
He lowered his head to rub the dog's head, letting out a yawn.
Fox came out of the kitchen carrying breakfast, glancing at him: "Looking at your phone early in the morning, who is it?"
"Who else could it be, that guy Tony." Logan threw his phone onto the table, sat down, picked up a sandwich, and took a bite: "He finally figured it out and found a solution."
"That's good." Fox nodded, sitting down to take a sip of coffee: "Spares Pepper from worrying every day."
Chapter 46: Date
Tony locked himself in the underground laboratory for three whole days.
The particle accelerator roared for seventy-two hours, blowing up pipelines twice and burning out three sets of coils in the process, until even Jarvis couldn't help but remind him, "Sir, you haven't closed your eyes for seventy-two hours."
Yet all of it was rebuffed by a single sentence from him: "Less nonsense, adjust the parameters."
Late in the night on the third day, as a light blue, stable beam of light lit up within the circular track, a new element the size of a needle tip, emitting a soft blue light, slowly condensed and formed, and the energy detector of the entire laboratory instantly jumped to its peak.
"It's done." Tony stared at the jumping data on the screen, his shoulders, tensed for months, finally relaxing as he let out a long breath.
Disregarding the scorching equipment, he reached out and carefully took out the new element core, his hands shaking slightly.
It wasn't because of poisoning; he was just fucking excited.
The process of replacing the core went very smoothly.
When the old palladium core was removed and the new element was embedded into the reactor on his chest, a gentle energy spread along his blood vessels, and the dull, burning pain in his chest that had lasted for months receded at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Tony pulled open his shirt in front of the mirror, looking at the fading bluish-purple veins on his skin, and flashed an arrogant gesture at the mirror.
"Jarvis, physical examination."
"Completed, sir. Palladium residue is rapidly metabolizing, and all physical indicators are returning to normal levels. Full recovery to a healthy state is expected in seventy-two hours."
Tony whistled, casually tossing the empty vegetable juice bottle into the trash can; at least he wouldn't have to drink that stuff anymore.
He fished out his cell phone, wanting to call Pepper, but losing face a bit, he finally just sent a text message saying, "Come to the lab tomorrow, I'll show you something good," and then plunged headfirst onto the sofa, falling asleep in seconds.
Meanwhile, the New York branch of S.H.I.E.L.D..
Natasha stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, hanging up the encrypted monitoring line she had just made to Jarvis, the expression on her face somewhat subtle.
She was silent for two seconds before dialing Fury's dedicated line.
"Officer, there's a new situation on Tony Stark's end."
"Speak." Fury's voice carried a hint of hoarseness, obviously staying up late again.
"He seems to have synthesized a new element and replaced the palladium core," Natasha said in a calm tone. "Palladium poisoning is rapidly receding, and his physical indicators are already recovering."
The other end of the phone fell silent for a full five seconds, followed by Fury's suppressed curse: "Motherfucker."
Natasha wasn't surprised at all.
Fury had originally planned to wait until Tony couldn't hold on from palladium poisoning, then extend a helping hand in the name of S.H.I.E.L.D. and smoothly drag him into the Avengers initiative, having even prepared the antidote plan.
Yet as it turned out, the guy holed himself up for three days and solved the problem directly, not even needing to take S.H.I.E.L.D.'s offered step down.
"How did this happen? How did he suddenly think of synthesizing a new element?" Fury's tone leaked displeasure. "He didn't have a single clue for the past few months, how did he suddenly have a breakthrough?"
"Unclear." Natasha paused, recalling the night of the gala when Logan and Tony were alone on the balcony, and added, "On the night of the charity gala, Logan Howlettand Tony chatted on the balcony for a few minutes. The next day, Tony went to Howard's old residence."
Logan Howlett again.
Fury's temples throbbed, and his brain felt like it was aching.
This guy was just like a troublemaker; every time a plan was going well, he always managed to wedge himself into it.
Last time Viggo died inexplicably, and this time Tony's palladium poisoning was solved just because of a casual hint from him. Is this guy really just lucky, or does he really know everything?
"Keep watching him." Fury took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, "Report anything promptly."
"Understood." Natasha hung up the phone, a hint of amusement flashing in the depths of her eyes.
This guy always managed to pop up with some surprises every time.
On the other side, Logan was curled up on the sofa watching an old movie, with Ares dozing off at his feet, when his cell phone suddenly buzzed.
He picked it up and glanced at it; the caller ID showed Michaela.
Logan raised an eyebrow and swiped to answer: "Hello?"
"Hi, Logan." The girl's crisp voice came out from the earpiece, carrying a trace of unnoticeable restraint, "Am I disturbing you?"
Logan couldn't help laughing.
This girl was beating around the bush just to fish for information.
After having that meal last time, Michaela would occasionally message him to talk about modified cars or fun things she encountered recently. With those little hidden thoughts between the lines, he wasn't a piece of wood—how could he not see through them?
"What could I possibly be busy with?" He leaned back on the sofa, his tone casual, "It's you instead—has the tuning shop been busy lately?"
"Not bad, took in a few sports cars to modify their body kits." Michaela's voice grew a bit lighter, chattering with him about tuning techniques for a moment before casually scraping up small talk at the end, "Right, a new American restaurant just opened in Queens, I heard their steaks are pretty good."
Listening to her beating around the bush, Logan found it somewhat amusing, so he simply offered her an out: "Coincidentally I'm free tonight, want to go try it together?"
The other end of the phone fell silent for a second, followed immediately by Michaela's somewhat excited voice: "Okay! Th-Then six o'clock tonight? I'll wait for you at the entrance of the tuning shop?"
"Alright, see you at six."
Hanging up the phone, Logan shook his head and tossed the cell phone aside.
Fox came out of the kitchen holding a cup of coffee and glanced at him: "Who was that?"
"A friend, we're having dinner together." Logan stood up and stretched lazily, "I'm going upstairs to change clothes."
Fox sneered and didn't say much else, just adding sarcastically: "Don't go causing any trouble."
"I know." Logan waved his hand and strolled upstairs.
At six in the evening, Logan drove a Lamborghini and parked it at the entrance of the tuning shop.
Not two minutes later, Michaela walked out from the shop.
She had obviously dressed up carefully, not wearing her usual engine-oil-stained overalls, but instead changing into a form-fitting black dress, draped with a cropped leather jacket over it, her long hair loose over her shoulders, wearing a bit of light makeup on her face, and her eyes shining like stars.
Seeing Logan in the sports car, her cheeks flushed slightly as she pulled open the car door and sat in: "Kept you waiting."
"No, just got here." Logan glanced at her and praised with a smile, "You look quite pretty."
Michaela's face blushed even harder, and she lowered her head to smooth out her skirt hem, whispering, "I usually wear overalls all the time, it's rare for me to wear this, I'm a bit unaccustomed to it."
"It looks better than overalls." Logan started the car and said casually, "Girls should wear pretty clothes more often; it's a waste to always deal with engine oil."
Michaela pursed her lips and smiled, her eyes curving into crescent moons. She talked a lot more all the way there, chirping away about fun things at the tuning shop, while Logan occasionally chimed in with a word or two, making the atmosphere relaxed and comfortable.
The restaurant was indeed good; the steak was pan-fried to perfection, and the red wine was also chosen to their liking.
The two of them chatted while eating, moving from modified cars to harleys, and then to the messy nonsense of New York, with Michaela listening with sparkling eyes.
Everyone she had been in contact with before was a rough car-enthusiast guy; she had never met someone like Logan.
Handsome, well-built, knowledgeable about tuning, and interesting to talk to—even his sarcastic complaints hit just the right notes.
Coming out after dinner, the night had already grown deep.
Logan didn't drive directly, accompanying her as they walked slowly back along the street. When the evening breeze blew, it carried a hint of sweet fragrance from the roadside dessert shop.
"Actually, I liked cars ever since I was a kid; my dad used to be into tuning too." Michaela kicked a small pebble under her feet, her tone lightening a bit. "Later on, after something happened to him, I fumbled and learned it on my own. At first, nobody believed I could fix cars, and they all said a little girl couldn't do this sort of thing."
"As long as your craftsmanship is good, it has nothing to do with gender," Logan said casually. "Your tuning skills aren't bad, better than a lot of guys."
Michaela felt a warmth in her heart, and just as she raised her head to speak, she heard a sarcastic voice come from ahead: "Yo, isn't this Michaela? What a rare guest."
The two raised their heads and saw a man and a woman standing by the roadside. The woman was wearing a tight dress with glamorous makeup, crossing her arms and looking Michaela up and down, her eyes full of contempt.
The man stood beside her, giving a bohemian whistle.
Michaela's complexion instantly turned pale, her footsteps halting as her fingertips tightened slightly.
It was an old acquaintance from the past, Tracy, who had always been at odds with her back in school, whose family ran a small business and always looked down on her.
"What, hooked up with a big shot?" Tracy sneered, her gaze sweeping over Logan and falling back onto Michaelawith an acidic tone, "Well, after all, for someone with a criminal record, decent jobs are hard to find, so taking this path is normal too. It's just that I wonder if this gentleman knows that your dad went to jail for stealing cars back then, and you yourself spent time in a juvenile detention center?"
As soon as those words came out, Michaela's face instantly lost all color, and her lips were trembling.
This was what she feared the most.
Having finally met someone she fancied, she ended up having her background exposed in public.
She subconsciously looked at Logan, her eyes carrying a bit of panic and embarrassment, fearing that the other party would show an expression of disgust.
Tracy lifted her chin smugly, waiting to watch Michaelamake a fool of herself.
But the anticipated embarrassment did not appear.
Logan didn't even frown, merely giving Tracy a faint glance, his tone chilly: "Finished? If you're finished, step aside, you're blocking the way."
Tracy was stunned: "You... you aren't disgusted by her? Her dad is a criminal, and she has a criminal record herself!"
"None of your damn business." Logan let out a cold laugh, reaching out to naturally wrap his arm around Michaela's shoulders and pulling her closer to his side, "I knew all of this the first day I met her; do you need to flap your gums here? Mind your own business, with a mouth that loose, watch out for getting beaten up one day."
His tone wasn't heavy, but when his eyes turned cold, they carried a coercive aura of someone who had seen blood for years.
The man had originally wanted to chime in to help, but after being swept by Logan's gaze, he instantly lost his nerve and pulled on Tracy's arm: "Forget it, forget it, let's go."
Tracy was both angry and scared, glaring fiercely at Michaela before sullenly following the man away.
The street grew quiet again.
Michaela leaned against Logan's side, her nose stinging a bit, her heart feeling both warm and astringent.
She thought the other person would be surprised, would be disgusted, or even turn around and leave, but he actually said... he knew on the very first day.
"You... you knew beforehand?" she asked softly, keeping her head buried low, "Don't you think I..."
"Think what? Think you're no good?" Logan looked down at her and laughed in amusement, "Who doesn't have a past. You make a living by your own craftsmanship, which is much better than those who gossip relying on their families. Besides, the one who stole cars was your dad, not you."
Michaela abruptly raised her head to look at him, her eye sockets red, yet shining startlingly bright.
The evening breeze brushed past her long hair, and the streetlights stretched the shadows of the two of them very long.
She looked at Logan's casual yet exceptionally resolute profile, her heart pounding furiously as if it were about to jump out of her throat.
She always used to feel that with a background like hers, she wasn't worthy of too good a person.
Yet the person in front of her didn't care about her past, didn't disdain her background, and would even protect her.
Driven by a sudden impulse, she stood on tiptoe and swiftly kissed Logan on the side of his face.
The soft touch flashed and vanished, carrying the faint citrus perfume scent of a young girl.
Having finished kissing, Michaela panicked first, her face turning crimson red as she took half a step back, looking at him at a loss: "I, I..."
Logan touched the side of his face, and seeing her flustered appearance, couldn't help laughing.
He reached out and ruffled her hair, his tone carrying a trace of amusement: "Quite daring, huh."
Michaela grew even shyer, wishing she could find a crack in the ground to crawl into, but she still mustered up the courage to look up at him: "I just... thank you."
"No need for thanks." Logan waved his hand and turned to walk towards the direction where he parked, "Let's go, I'll send you back. Next time I'll take you to eat something else."
"Okay!" Michaela hurried to follow, her footsteps becoming much lighter, and the smile on the corners of her mouth completely uncontrollable.
When dropping her off at the entrance of the tuning shop, as Michaela got out of the car, she turned back to look at him again, her eyes sparkling: "Logan, next time let's go ride a harley, okay? I know a coastal highway that's particularly suitable for cruising."
"Sure." Logan leaned against the car door, lifting his chin towards her, "Call me when you're free."
Michaela nodded heavily and turned to run into the shop. After running a couple of steps, she turned back and waved again before disappearing behind the door.
Watching her back, Logan shook his head with an amused smile and sat back in the car.
The engine started, and the sports car slowly drove away from the street.
He touched the side of his face; a bit of soft touch still lingered there.
The little girl was quite proactive.
Chapter 47 Hearing
Inside a private club in Washington, D.C.
Alexander Pierce put down his whiskey glass, a gentle smile on his face, yet every word he spoke was stirring up trouble.
"Senator Stern, Tony Stark is doing better and better lately. Once he figured out that new element, the performance of his armor more than tripled. If we let him go on like this, he alone could match half an armored division of the Army. The Pentagon is probably getting restless."
Senator Stern held his wine glass, his chubby face full of calculation. He took a sip of wine and squinted. "Of course I know. But that guy is impervious to reason. Last time I went to talk to him about Military procurement, he shot me right back down. We can't just rob him openly, can we?"
"Who said anything about robbing him openly?" Piercesmiled, his tone leisurely. "Just go through the procedures. Convene a congressional hearing and, under the pretext of 'national security', demand that he nationalize the Iron Armor technology. With public opinion momentum and Military pressure, no matter how arrogant he is, can he go up against the entire Congress?"
Stern's eyes lit up.
What a good idea.
Not only would he avoid taking any risks himself, but he could also leverage this matter to gain political capital and incidentally extort Tony.
If they really forced the technology out of him, his voice and influence in the Military would also increase significantly.
"But just relying on our words isn't enough evidence." Stern rubbed his chin. "There has to be someone who knows the ropes step forward to make things difficult, so that we have a legitimate justification."
"I've already thought of the person for you." Pierce raised his glass and clinked it with his, a flash of imperceptible cold light passing through the depths of his eyes. "Justin Hammer. Hammer Industries has always kept its eyes on the Military's orders, and he's an old rival of Stark. Having him step forward as a witness to counter Tony in his professional field couldn't be more appropriate."
Stern laughed heartily and nodded repeatedly. "Brilliant! That guy has wanted to step on Stark for a long time. Give him this opportunity, and he'll scramble to take it."
The two looked at each other and smiled. Amidst the crisp sound of their glasses colliding, a plot targeting Tony was thus finalized.
The next morning, Justin Hammer was invited to the senator's office.
Upon hearing Stern's plan, he almost jumped up on the spot, the smile on his face impossible to hide.
All these years, he had been suppressed by Tony to the point where he couldn't lift his head. His exhibition was upstaged, his orders were cut off, and his assassination attempts led nowhere—he had a belly full of fire.
Now, having the opportunity to openly counter Tony at the congressional hearing and seizing the chance to grab Military orders as well, it was simply a pie falling from the sky.
"Rest assured, Senator!" Justin patted his chest in guarantee, his saliva almost flying out. "My professional team is all set on my end, and I guarantee I'll leave him speechless by then! Something as dangerous as the Iron Armor should naturally be controlled by the state. For an arms dealer to hold it in his hands, what kind of nonsense is that!"
"With your words, that's enough." Stern nodded with satisfaction. "The hearing is in three days. Get yourself prepared. Don't drop the ball on me."
"Absolutely not!" Justin held his head high and puffed out his chest. When he walked out of the office, his footsteps were practically floating.
He was already starting to fantasize about what Tonywould look like at the hearing—speechless and looking utterly dejected.
By then, Hammer Industries would take the opportunity to take over the Military's mecha orders and surpass Stark Industries in one fell swoop. It was just around the corner!
Three days flew by in a flash.
When the subpoena was delivered to Tony's underground laboratory, he was squatting on his workbench tuning the new Mark VI armor.
The light-blue new element core glowed with a soft light on his chest, the lines of the entire armor were smoother than before, and the firepower system had also been fully upgraded.
When his assistant handed the document in, Tony casually opened it, glanced at it, sneered, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the wastebasket next to him.
"A congressional hearing? And nationalize it? Were their brains caught in a door?" He picked up a wrench and tightened a screw, his tone dismissive. "My armor, why should I give it to them? A bunch of politicians who don't even know how to take apart a rifle, and they're fit to talk about the Iron Armor?"
Jarvis's voice rang out: "Sir, the hearing led by Senator Stern has representatives from both the Military and the Department of Defense in attendance. If you refuse to attend, it may trigger subsequent legal trouble."
"Trouble is trouble." Tony didn't care at all. "Do they dare to break in and grab it? Let them try."
As they were speaking, the laboratory door was pushed open, and Rhodes walked in wearing a Military uniform, his expression stern.
He spotted the subpoena document in the wastebasket at a glance, and his brows instantly knitted together into a knot.
"Tony, I'm talking to you about business." Rhodes walked over to the workbench, his tone heavy. "You must go to the hearing, and you must prepare well. Don't pull stunts at the press conference like you did last time."
"I pull stunts?" Tony raised an eyebrow, jumping down from the workbench. "They're the ones looking for trouble over nothing. My armor, I'll use it however I want, why should I hand it over to the state? Hand it over to them so those politicians can use it to fight wars and make money?"
"This is not the time for you to throw a tantrum!" Rhodes's voice rose a notch. "This involves national security! The Pentagon has already put pressure on this, holding out stubbornly is useless, and in the end, it will only make you more passive. Can't you just lower your head and go through the motions?"
"Lower my head? There are no such words as 'lower my head' in Tony Stark's dictionary." Tony curled his lip, picked up an iced soda on the table, and took a gulp. "At worst I won't go, what can they do to me?"
"You—" Rhodes was driven to a headache by him, and just as he wanted to persuade him again, a leisurely set of footsteps came from the laboratory doorway, accompanied by a teasing remark.
"Yo, so lively? Are you two fighting?"
Logan was biting on half an unlit cigar, leaning against the door frame, with Ares following right behind him.
The big dog peeked inside, then squatted down at the doorway to chew on a bone.
He had come to sponge a free lunch from Tony, and as soon as he stepped through the door, he heard the two arguing.
"Why are you here?" Tony rolled his eyes. "You love watching the world burn, don't you?"
"You bet I do." Logan walked over, bent down to pick up the subpoena from the wastebasket, shook it, glanced at it, and clicked his tongue. "Congressional hearing, nationalization? Same old routine, boring. But... I've never been to the Capitol to watch the show."
He looked up at Tony, smiling mischievously. "How about it, count me in? I'll go broaden my horizons and see how those politicians talk utter nonsense with a straight face. Don't worry, I won't speak, I'll just sit and watch the play."
Rhodes's brows furrowed even tighter. "Logan, this is serious business, not a game."
"I'm not playing around." Logan shrugged. "I'm just watching the fun. If things really blow up into a fight, I can even help hold down the fort. We can't just let them carry Tony away, can we?"
Tony had been annoyed, but upon hearing this, he actually chuckled instead.
He pondered for a moment. With Logan standing there, his aura was indeed strong enough. When those politicians saw such a burly, two-meter-tall man, they might actually not dare to go too far.
Besides, having an acquaintance nearby watching the fun made countering people feel even more energetic.
"Fine, I'll take you." Tony slapped his thigh. "But we have a deal—don't talk nonsense when the time comes, and definitely don't start a fight. They're Congress after all, you can't just tear down the Capitol, can you?"
"Look at what you're saying, am I that kind of person?" Logan rolled his eyes. "I'll just sit and watch the show, and cheer you on along the way. If someone yaps too annoyingly, I'll just glare at them a couple of times."
Watching these two unreliable guys, one worse than the other, Rhodes only felt his temples throbbing.
One Tony was already enough to give someone a headache, and now add Logan? Goodness knows what kind of mess the hearing will turn into.
"You two don't mess around." Rhodes earnestly warned. "This is a formal hearing with media present, and the impact is huge. Tony, restrain your temper and don't counter the senators in public. Logan, you... try to keep a low profile."
"Got it, got it." Tony waved his hand impatiently and turned to look at Logan. "Tomorrow morning at nine, don't be late. Dress like a human being, don't wear that flight jacket paired with cargo pants like you just came back from a construction site."
"What, afraid I'll embarrass you?" Logan raised an eyebrow. "Then I won't go."
"Don't do that." Tony immediately changed his tune, smiling with a punchable expression. "You go. You standing there is way more useful than bodyguards. Just consider it helping a brother hold down the fort, and I'll treat you to the most expensive steak afterwards."
"That's more like it." Logan nodded with satisfaction, casually tossing the subpoena back onto the table. "Fine, I'll arrive on time tomorrow. I'd like to see what brilliant insights that Justin Hammer has prepared to dare jump out and challenge you."
Mentioning Justin, the smile on Tony's face faded a bit, and he said dismissively: "Just a clown playing acrobatics. His meager Military technology isn't even worthy of carrying my shoes. Still want to steal my armor technology? Go dream on."
Rhodes looked at the two of them looking so confident and completely not taking the hearing seriously, and sighed helplessly.
He finally understood—these two guys were each crazier than the other. Tomorrow's hearing probably wouldn't be peaceful.
He shook his head and stopped trying to persuade them.
Anyway, trying to persuade them was useless; once Tonydecided on something, eight horses couldn't drag him back.
He only hoped that tomorrow wouldn't get too ugly, leaving him to clean up the mess in the end.
Logan leaned against the workbench, watching Tonyenthusiastically tuning the armor while muttering to himself about how to talk back tomorrow, and couldn't help smiling.
A hearing was nothing more than a war of words anyway. With Tony's mouth, he could counter anyone under the Sun and remain undefeated; how could he possibly suffer a loss?
It was just a pity that they couldn't start a physical fight.
Otherwise, picking up that fellow Justin and tossing him out would save so much trouble.
He rubbed his chin, already starting to look forward to tomorrow's good show in his heart.
After all, Tony Stark's congressional tongue battle wasn't something you got to see every day.
Chapter 48: What Does It Mean to Be Arrogant?
The hearing room of the Capitol was packed to capacity, with a row of media cameras and lenses set up, and the flashes were so bright they practically dazzled the eyes.
Senator Stern sat in the main seat, impeccably suited and looking righteous, and anyone who didn't know better would have thought he was trying some national-level criminal.
In the first row of the public gallery, Logan wore a barely formal black shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing sturdy muscles, leaning back in his chair and spinning a cigar in boredom.
Beside him, Rhodes sat straight, his Military uniform crisp, his expression as solemn as if he were going to the battlefield, occasionally turning his head to glare at Logan, signaling him to rein it in.
"Is it really necessary? It's like trying a prisoner," Loganmuttered softly. "If they just want the technology, why not say so directly instead of beating around the bush so much?"
Rhodes lowered his voice: "Zip it. The media are all watching."
Logan shrugged, his gaze sweeping across the corner of the public gallery.
Alexander Pierce sat there with a gentle smile on his face, conversing in low tones with the person next to him, looking completely like a harmless veteran politician.
But Logan saw right through it at a glance. The calculations in the old fox's eyes were deeper than the Mariana Trench.
"Order." Stern tapped the gavel, cleared his throat, and let his gaze fall on Tony in the defendant's seat. "Mr. Tony Stark, we are holding today's hearing to discuss the ownership of the Iron Armor. As everyone knows, the Iron Armor technology you master possesses extremely strong Military deterrence and essentially belongs to weapons of mass destruction."
He paused, his tone righteous and stern: "For national security, and for the safety of the public's lives and property, Congress believes that you should unconditionally transfer the armor technology to the Military for unified national control."
Tony sat in the defendant's seat, his sunglasses sliding down to the bridge of his nose. He lifted his eyes to glance at Stern, his tone lazy: "Mr. Senator, first of all, that is not a weapon; it is my personal bodyguard. Secondly, 'unconditional transfer'? That sounds lovely, just like daylight robbery."
A low chuckle sounded from the audience, and the media frantically pressed their shutters.
Stern's expression darkened: "Mr. Stark, please be serious! This is a congressional hearing, not your private party!"
"I am very serious." Tony spread his hands. "I seriously declare: absolutely not! In my hands, the armor maintains World peace; in your hands, it's a bargaining chip for career advancement and getting rich. I'd have to be crazy to give it to you."
"You—" Stern's chubby face flushed red with anger. He took a deep breath to suppress his temper. "Since you remain stubbornly blind, let's ask a professional to arbitrate. Presenting the CEO of Hammer Industries, Mr. Justin Hammer!"
The side door opened, and Justin Hammer walked in wearing a well-pressed suit, his hair combed so slick and shiny that a fly could do the splits on it.
He walked in with his head held high, stood at the witness stand, nodded slightly to Stern first, and then turned to the audience with a deeply sorrowful look:
"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Stark and I are 'old friends'. But today, I must speak a word of justice from an objective perspective! The Iron Armor is far too dangerous. For one person to possess enough Military force to destroy a city without any supervision is a huge threat to national security!"
He spoke passionately, spittle flying everywhere: "Hammer Industries has conducted a professional evaluation. Once Mr. Stark loses control of his emotions, or the technology falls into the hands of lawbreakers, the consequences would be unimaginable! Therefore, I fully support Congress's decision to nationalize the armor technology. Only by letting professional defense enterprises research and mass-produce it can public safety truly be guaranteed!"
Logan listened in the public gallery and chuckled, leaning over to whisper into Rhodes's ear: "This guy's acting skills are not bad; it's a pity he didn't go to Hollywood. A professional evaluation? He probably doesn't even know what the core of the armor is, does he?"
The corners of Rhodes's mouth twitched, and he didn't answer, though he inwardly agreed. Justin's worth could only fool outside politicians.
Stern nodded with satisfaction and looked at Tony: "Mr. Stark, did you hear that? Industry authorities all believe—"
"Industry authorities?" Tony suddenly laughed, took off his sunglasses, and threw them on the table. "Justin, you have the nerve to call yourself an industry authority? You privately copied my armor, and the barrel exploded during testing. Remember that?"
Justin's face turned pale for a second, and he feigned composure: "You—you're talking nonsense! The technology of Hammer Industries—"
"The technology is indeed quite 'good'." Tony interrupted him and snapped his fingers. "Jarvis, play a clip for everyone to see."
As soon as the words fell, the big screen at the front of the hearing room suddenly lit up.
The footage showed the secret testing ground of Hammer Industries. A crookedly copied "Iron Armor" stood in the center of the field, and as soon as it took its first step, it dropped to its knees with a loud clang, its knee armor directly cracking open. During the second test, after finally walking two steps, the cannon barrel on its arm exploded with a bang the moment it charged up, black smoke billowing out like burning firewood, sending the testers scurrying in all directions.
The last segment of footage was even more incredible: Justin himself stood on the edge of the testing ground, hands on his hips, shouting "Increase power!", resulting in the armor immediately short-circuiting on the spot. Sparks splashed all over his face, blowing his hair straight up and making him look like a ruffled turkey.
The entire room fell dead silent for a second, followed by a burst of uproarious laughter.
The media pressed their shutters like madmen, and the flashes were bright enough to blind human eyes.
Reporters held back their laughter so hard their shoulders shook, and even a few Military attendees couldn't help turning their heads away, the corners of their mouths curving upward frantically.
Standing at the witness stand, Justin's face turned red, white, and green in turns, looking like a palette. He stood there at a loss, not knowing whether to leave or stay, wishing he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
"Th-This is forged!" he screamed, his voice cracking. "Tony Stark, you're maliciously slandering me! This is synthesized!"
"Synthesized?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "Jarvis, pull up the raw test data. Time, location, parameters—list them all out for him, lest he say I'm bullying people."
Dense streams of test data immediately popped up on the screen, not even omitting the brand of underwear Justin wore that day—which Tony had intentionally added, of course.
Looking at the data, Justin's legs went weak, and he had to hold onto the witness stand to keep from falling over.
Stern's face was so black it could drip ink. He glared fiercely at Justin, then looked back at Tony, his hands trembling with anger: "Mr. Stark! You—how dare you play this kind of thing at a congressional hearing!"
"What, only he's allowed to slander me, but I'm not allowed to show the facts?" Tony shrugged, his tone extremely punchable. "Mr. Senator, the 'professional' you invited has only this level of skill? He copied it for over half a year and can't even walk properly, yet he has the nerve to talk about taking over the armor technology? Stop kidding around; it's too unsafe even for children's toys."
"You—" Stern was too angry to speak.
He had planned everything so well, letting Justin apply pressure from a professional angle to force Tony into making concessions.
But as it turned out, instead of stealing the chicken, he lost the rice used as bait. Instead, Tony stripped away Justin's last shred of dignity. Today's hearing had effectively become the laughingstock of all Washington.
Pierce sat in the corner of the public gallery, the smile on his face fading slightly as his fingertips gently tapped against his knee. He wasn't too angry; he just found it a bit unexpected.
Tony actually managed to get his hands on Hammer Industries' internal test footage. It seemed this guy's intelligence network was even deeper than imagined.
He shook his head slightly, stood up, and silently left through the side door.
Seeing the show up to this point was enough; staying any longer was meaningless.
That idiot Stern couldn't even handle Tony Stark. He really was trash.
The hearing room had already descended into complete chaos.
Stern banged the gavel for a long time without being able to suppress the laughter, and finally announced with a livid face: "Recess temporarily!"
He turned and walked away, his retreating figure reeking of embarrassment.
Justin covered his face and fled sheepishly under the cover of his bodyguards, not even daring to look back.
The media swarmed forward, surrounding Tony and asking questions all at once.
Tony dealt with them for a couple of sentences, then squeezed out of the crowd and walked toward Logan and Rhodes in the public gallery, looking extremely smug.
"How was that? Wasn't it wonderful?" He raised an eyebrow, like a kid who had just won a fight.
"Wonderful, simply wonderful." Logan shook his head with a smile. "I thought you were going to lecture them with big principles; I didn't expect you to straight up strip away his dignity. Nasty enough."
"Lecture them with what principles." Tony scoffed. "To deal with people like this, you have to slap them in the face loudly, otherwise they always think you're easy to bully."
Beside them, Rhodes wore a headache-inducing expression: "Tony, you've completely offended both Stern and Hammer this time. There will definitely be trouble afterward."
"Trouble is trouble." Tony was nonchalant. "Can they bite me? If they have the ability, come and grab it, and see if they can take it away."
The three of them chatted as they walked outward.
Just as they walked out of the Capitol, Tony suddenly stopped and snapped his fingers: "Right, the new element is finished, and the hearing is won. It's a double blessing; we've got to celebrate."
"How to celebrate?" Logan raised an eyebrow.
"The Monaco Historic Grand Prix starts next week, and I've booked a team slot." Tony smiled mischievously. "How about it, dare to race me? Consider it a celebration of the new energy's birth, and by the way... let those old fogies in Washington see that not only is my technology awesome, but my driving is also better than theirs."
Rhodes instantly got a headache: "Tony! You're going racing right after finishing a hearing? What will the media write? Congress will definitely be even more dissatisfied!"
"Let them be dissatisfied." Tony curled his lip. "What do I care if they're dissatisfied? I play my game, they get angry at theirs, and it just so happens to vent today's pent-up anger."
Logan's eyes lit up upon hearing this.
Racing? And on the Monaco track? That was way more exciting than cruising around New York City.
"Sure, a race it is." He agreed readily. "Whoever loses treats the other to a month's worth of whiskey."
"It's a deal!" Tony immediately high-fived him. "That's settled! I'll show you what a genius racing driver is like then."
"Who wins isn't certain yet." Logan gave a disdainful chuckle, but inwardly he was feeling rather eager to try.
With his reflexes and control, plus the physical attributes enhanced by the Crimson Power, how could he lose at racing?
Rhodes looked at these two guys hitting it off instantly and felt his vision go dark.
Just finished causing a ruckus at the hearing, and turning around they wanted to speed in an international competition? These two guys were truly more capable of stirring up trouble than each other.
He sighed and resignedly pulled out his phone: "I'll go arrange security... I must have owed you both in my past life."
Tony and Logan exchanged a smile and walked down the steps side by side.
Wasn't it just congressional pressure?
Even if the sky fell, there would still be fun to find; could a mere hearing ruin their mood?
Tony whistled, already beginning to ponder car modification plans.
As for Logan, he touched his chin, calculating inwardly whether he should ease up a little bit then so Tonywouldn't lose too terribly.
Forget it, better not.
Letting this guy lose once would also let him know there are people better than him.