"Someone with real ability? Then you've found the right person. I'm Tony Stark—son of a legendary weapons developer."
"At four, I built my first circuit board."
"At six, I designed my first engine."
"At seventeen, I graduated from MIT at the top of my class."
"At twenty-one, I inherited the entire Stark Industries."
"And today, I've created artificial intelligence and engineered combat armor decades ahead of modern technology."
Tony spoke as if reciting a glorious résumé, his tone brimming with self-confidence.
He had always believed himself to be a once-in-a-generation genius—arguably the smartest man alive. Expecting humility from Iron Man was pure fantasy.
"Ohhh~"
Child Emperor dragged out the sound lazily, his expression completely flat—no surprise, no admiration.
"…Forget it. Explaining this to you is pointless. You wouldn't understand."
"That's not necessarily true," Aiden Cross said calmly. "Allow me to introduce him properly. This is Child Emperor, currently ranked D-Class Second Seat. In terms of raw combat capability, he can already defeat you."
"…What?"
"And Tony," Aiden added with a faint smile, "you keep calling yourself a genius, but in truth, you're already behind a ten-year-old."
The words landed like a hammer.
Aiden had no intention of sparing Tony's pride. If he wasn't pushed, Stark would never truly accelerate his progress.
The so-called 'purple tyrant wiping out loved ones' future had been half truth, half fabrication—meant to ignite motivation. But distant threats lacked urgency. Tony's armor was still stalled at Mark V, with no real breakthrough.
So Aiden chose the only effective method.
Crushing him in the one field Tony trusted most.
"Hah," Tony laughed stiffly. "Chairman, that kind of provocation won't work on me."
"Is that so?" Aiden replied. "Then let me tell you this. Child Emperor had already mastered every foundational discipline required for invention by the age of seven."
"…You mean elementary through high school material?" Tony scoffed. "Impressive, sure—but that doesn't mean—"
"No," Aiden interrupted. "I mean the complete theoretical foundations across all relevant scientific and engineering fields."
Tony froze.
"That's impossible! That's the equivalent of seven or eight doctoral degrees! Even if someone started studying in the womb, they couldn't memorize all of that!"
His eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.
What most people couldn't comprehend in a lifetime, this child had mastered before his eighth birthday.
It was absurd.
It was inhuman.
But Child Emperor wasn't from reality—he was born of a different world entirely. Such learning capacity was simply… normal for him.
"Old man," Child Emperor said flatly, pulling the lollipop from his mouth, "just because you can't do something doesn't mean others can't. Understood?"
That was the final blow.
Tony's expression changed completely.
He fired off question after question—advanced physics, materials science, energy theory, systems engineering.
Child Emperor answered every single one without hesitation. Not only flawlessly—but often with follow-up questions that exposed gaps in Tony's own understanding.
The room fell silent.
"…."
Tony stared at the boy, clutching his chest.
This wasn't a prodigy.
This was a walking nightmare.
If he didn't keep learning, he would be left behind by the era itself.
"Senior," Mash Shieldheart whispered, "you're smiling really wickedly."
"Am I?" Aiden replied, barely holding back his grin.
Watching Tony Stark—Iron Man himself—question the meaning of his life was unexpectedly satisfying.
After ten minutes of this "friendly academic exchange" between one adult and one child, Tony Stark completely shut down.
Still wearing his armor, he collapsed onto the sofa, head in his hands, eyes empty.
"Chairman," Child Emperor said helplessly, scratching his head, "is this adult… really that fragile?"
Honestly, aside from his loud personality, Tony's research ability—excluding giant mech construction—was outstanding. Child Emperor couldn't understand why he'd broken so completely.
Of course, that was because Child Emperor hadn't factored age into the equation.
"Don't worry," Aiden said reassuringly. "Once he recovers, his growth speed will put immense pressure on you."
"Hey! I'm still a kid," Child Emperor protested. "I'm supposed to grow up normally, not compete with an adult maniac!"
He suddenly felt like he'd walked into a terrible situation.
"I'm bored," a voice echoed. "Why aren't there any strong monsters lately?"
Tornado of Terror floated in from outside, irritation written all over her face.
Most of New York's monsters had already been dealt with by other League members. As a living disaster-class weapon, she had nothing to do all day.
"Huh? Another short one?" she said casually. "Chairman, recruiting this many child workers isn't a good look."
Bang!
Tony's body slammed into the wall as if seized by an invisible hand, embedding him into the concrete like a human sculpture.
"J.A.R.V.I.S! Emergency thrust—disengage!"
"Sir, external force detected. Unable to break free."
"What the hell?!"
Tony's face went blank.
Mark V, operating at full output, could reach supersonic speed—yet he couldn't escape this unseen force at all.
What kind of power was this?!
Moments later, Tony—face pale—was flung around the room like a rubber ball dozens of times, completely helpless.
A lifetime humiliation was being etched into his soul.
"Say I'm short again," Tornado of Terror snapped coldly, "and I'll twist you into a pretzel."
Height was an absolute taboo.
Anyone who crossed that line paid dearly.
Within the Hero League, aside from Aiden Cross—who could reliably overpower her—no one dared provoke Tornado of Terror.
Tony Stark, having suffered yet another brutal blow to both body and spirit, sank into an even deeper state of silence.
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Read Chapters ahead: [email protected] / KaiOynx