TN:Sorry for the late chapter
"Relax—this demonstration will go off without a hitch. Once I show off our Arican power, get ready to rake in the cash!"
Harlan Reich, CEO of CyberTech, sat in the car, brimming with confidence. Dressed sharply in a suit, he occasionally glanced at the van trailing behind through the rearview mirror.
Is this what success feels like?
The car was entering a military restricted zone, and he was about to secure the largest contract in CyberTech's history—a deal with the Departnt of Defense.
What's it like to be the center of attention among military, governnt, and business elites?
He was already daydreaming about it.
The car made its way toward the garage—housing tanks and other heavy units. There, he would first have cordial etings with various VIPs before moving on to the demonstration.
As the car approached the main gate, he imagined the gaze of everyone fixed on him.
But then he noticed a commotion inside—people were gathered around soone, hanging on their every word.
"Huh?"
The car stopped, and Harlan got out, puzzled. Wasn't he supposed to be the star of this demo?
A flamboyant voice echoed from a distance.
"Yes, missiles, nothing special. If you decide to go big, Stark Industries can always ramp up production.
If you hand over the next-gen fighter jet project to , I might carve out so ti from dating models to get it done. Just kidding.
I'll fast-track it, maybe a week? Seriously—helping the United States crush our enemies has always been Stark Industries' forte.
Who, ? Don't ntion him, thanks."
There was only one arms dealer in the world with such swagger.
Not tall, curly hair, fast-talking, with a sharp wit, and a penchant for won.
Of course, no one here entertained his antics, but even among n, he was popular.
Tony Stark.
"Damn," Harlan cursed under his breath, adjusted his suit, and walked briskly toward the crowd. "Ahem—"
Finally, soone noticed Harlan, who was internally fuming at Tony for stealing his spotlight.
But the two were colleagues from the sa club, and Tony had helped him before, so Harlan could only put on a friendly face.
The most imposing figure at the scene was a stern general in sunglasses—General Krigkov, the highest-ranking officer present.
Despite being in his sixties, his straight posture and strong physique were awe-inspiring.
Behind him was Colonel Rhodes, head of the Air Force's procurent and R&D departnt.
To Harlan's surprise, there was another man he didn't recognize—a one-eyed man not in military uniform.
Soon, a congressman would be watching the demonstration from behind a screen.
Harlan greeted everyone: "General Krigkov, Colonel Rhodes, and this gentleman?"
General Krigkov responded coolly, "Colonel Rollins. You only need to know that he will decide if certain special agencies will procure your equipnt."
"Understood, understood," Harlan replied, delighted.
Tony casually threw an arm around Harlan. "Co on, genius, you don't mind if I check out your secret weapon, do you?
Don't worry, Stark Industries won't steal your thunder—does it cost more than a Jericho missile?"
"We can talk price later. Let's see the weapon first."
Harlan was annoyed with Tony—this showcase was his stage!
It had to go according to his plan!
Tony waved dismissively. "Fine, I rushed it. Let's see your genius invention."
That's more like it—
Congress connected in.
Harlan smiled, gave a brief self-introduction, and opened his briefcase:
It was a small computer to control so equipnt.
"Gentlen, first let introduce the CX-8 Wild Boar troop transport, made with high-strength titanium alloy combined with carbon fiber composites.
The outer shell is an impressive 15 cm thick, with a bulletproof polyr and energy-absorbing foam inner layer that can withstand 10 gajoules of energy impact—"
Boom!
As Harlan tapped the keyboard, a deafening sound ca from the vehicle!
The door deford slightly.
Colonel Rollins, Colonel Rhodes, and Tony were startled, while General Krigkov narrowed his eyes—
A 10 gajoule impact was comparable to an M1 Abrams tank's main gun blast.
Boom!
The vehicle roared again!
The entire armored car shook violently!
If the specs were true, this was indeed a robust vehicle.
And the more solid it was, the more exciting its contents!
Boom!
On the third hit, the door finally cracked open!
Massive shockwaves turned into heat, and white smoke rose from the seams.
What was inside?
The crowd was eager to know.
Boom!
Finally, on the fourth strike, the door deford drastically, and a pair of cold, chanical hands grabbed the gap, tearing it apart—
Crack... Crack—Bang!
With a final pull and kick, the door was forced open wide!
It was a robot!
No, upon closer inspection, it wasn't entirely a robot. As it turned, half its tal head revealed a human face!
It was a black man, with a stern expression and vigilant eyes, like a warrior always on guard.
"Allow to introduce our newest product—the Death Warrior!"
The Death Warrior turned towards the firing range, where scrapped target vehicles surrounded it. Several small missiles launched!
Boom!
It was like fireworks exploding!
Its firepower was overwhelming, promising to be a decisive weapon for urban combat—a critical aspect!
The Death Warrior bent its knees, gathered strength, and leaped high!
Flas burst from its calves, propelling it over 20 ters, before sprinting and leaping into the urban combat simulation!
This was a complex, multi-level structure simulating a battlefield with machine guns and heavy fire hidden behind cover, ready to ambush—
But the Death Warrior's high-strength alloy made it impervious to bullets. It moved swiftly, punching through walls and crushing targets with ease!
And machine guns weren't the toughest challenge in urban combat—
The military had prepared the most troubleso scenario.
From a blind spot, a rocket silently erged—
Boom!
Flas engulfed the Death Warrior!
Harlan froze—he hadn't been inford about such heavy firepower!
"Damn it, Michael, don't screw this up. We need this to work for the money."
He murmured, typing frantically on the control box.
But no matter what he did, errors kept popping up on the screen!
As the smoke cleared, the Death Warrior stood amidst the flas, a shallow crater left by the explosion on its body.
But that was it. Though montarily immobile, it looked intact overall.
The only sound was Harlan's keyboard clacking. About ten seconds later, the Death Warrior moved again, kicking the launcher apart!
After that, the Death Warrior stopped, standing still like a deactivated robot.
But regardless, the mission was completed.
"Brilliant! Oh!"
Harlan danced with joy!
Clap... clap, clap, clap—
Applause ca from behind. Harlan turned sharply to see the usually stoic General Krigkov smiling.
"Well done. Truly, from this range, many of our armored vehicles would struggle with such an ambush."
Tony clapped too: "Impressive. Those small missiles seem like Hamr Industries' work. I can make sothing better. Let's discuss later."
Rhodes pondered the capabilities displayed by the machine.
According to the docunts, the Death Warrior was a form of human-machine augntation.
Could this technology enhance pilot efficiency with better G-force resistance equipnt?
Colonel Rollins, intrigued, considered so classified possibilities.
Harlan bead: "General, about our contract—"
"Very—"
Krigerkov was about to speak when a request for a live connection ca from a congressman on the other end of the video.
"This thing looks impressive but still seems immature. Instead of risking these technologies in high-stakes wars, shouldn't we consider using them in the civilian sector to improve citizens' living conditions?"
Another congressman chid in, "Exactly. I noticed this is a form of augntation technology. The person who underwent this transformation—"
"Did so voluntarily," Harlan quickly interjected. "As for civilian use, if our stick isn't big enough, how can we ensure peace?"
"That's sophistry. We're currently waging—"
"Ahem, Congressman Cohen, we're discussing a procurent case here. Besides, CyberTech's primary aim in developing this technology was to help our military achieve invincibility. Now you're asking them to hastily shift it to civilian use?"
"Oh, co on."
The scene quickly descended into chaos. Krigerkov furrowed his brow as a soldier briskly entered.
It soon beca clear why there was so much opposition. In the video conference, a congressman presented new information—a video clip.
"Looks like Governor Newsom has been discharged from the hospital, thanks to technology from the International Gene Cooperation Corporation. It seems he's also fitted with so high-tech prosthetics. He appears almost normal again and is even planning to give a speech. The technology seems mature."
The room fell into silence. Harlan stood frozen, his face darkening.
"It appears," Krigerkov paused and shifted his tone, "I still believe this weapon has great potential, but the congressn need more ti to deliberate. Let's conclude for today."
No one objected—whether to prioritize military or civilian applications for similar technologies was indeed a topic worth discussing.
Given the political implications, it was natural for the congressn to proceed cautiously. If uncertain about approval, it was better to postpone the vote.
As the congressional communication ended, Krigerkov stated, "That's it for today. Mr. Stark, I won't see you out. I believe we've discussed enough. You and Colonel Rhodes should have more matters to discuss."
"Of course. You've got a new favorite now. But if you're considering ditching Hamr for equipping this... Death Warrior, feel free to contact ."
Rhodes saluted Krigerkov and left with Tony.
Harlan stayed behind, seething with anger—just because that damn governor didn't die in the accident, it was now affecting him!
Krigerkov looked at him and patted his shoulder, indicating they walk together.
"Mr. Reich, since Congress is still divided, the Departnt of Defense will temporarily shelve the procurent. However, Colonel Rollins here might offer you a place to make full use of your talents."
Harlan was taken aback. Colonel Rollins wasn't military?
Krigerkov walked away, leaving the one-eyed Colonel Rollins to approach Harlan, extending a handshake.
"You've probably heard many legends about us. So, for our upcoming cooperation, you must understand confidentiality."
Rollins produced his credentials—
He was from the CIA.
CIA?
Harlan's previously dampened spirits reignited as he glanced at the faltering Death Warrior nearby—
Michael, we've made it!
However, the Death Warrior stood motionless, not even blinking.
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