Half an hour later, Jason flew back to his base.
His body was covered in wounds, a gaping hole in his chest.
The branch’s higher-ups freaked out, shouting for every doctor on site.
"Boss, you okay?" One asked.
Thinking of failing to kill Tony, Jason’s face fell. "Not dead yet," He said.
The higher-up froze, unsure how to respond.
Soon, a group of nurses rushed in with a stretcher, lifting Jason and sprinting him to the operating room.
He closed his eyes, replaying the night’s battle with Stark.
Over and over, he analyzed his and Tony’s mistakes, morizing key monts.
Two hours later, wrapped in bandages, he was wheeled out.
The higher-ups sward, fussing over him. Jason yawned. "I’m beat. Send food to my room and leave alone."
"Yes, boss!"
Pushed to his room by nurses, he declined their offer to stay and eat, sitting alone at the table, gorging.
After his al, he lay in bed, ready to sleep.
But closing his eyes brought the battle flashing back.
His body was exhausted, but his brain buzzed with excitent.
After several failed attempts to sleep, frustration took over.
Sitting up, he raised his right hand and chopped his neck hard.
Thwack!
Eyes rolling back, he collapsed, out cold.
*
With the hand-chop’s help, Jason slept deeply, waking at noon.
He hit the bedroom call button, shuffled to the living room couch, grabbed a fruit, and opened the system.
[Ding! System Task 1 [Soone Outside the Window] completed. Gained 800 Villain Points. Current Progress: 5174/27000!]
...
[Ding! System Task 13 [Amusent Park Horror] failed. Gained 0 Villain Points. Current Progress: 7974/27000!]
...
[Ding! System Task 37 [Congratulatory Gift] completed. Gained 20,000 Villain Points. Current Progress: 39470/27000!]
...
Jason scanned the flood of notifications.
Most tasks from yesterday were done—so perfectly, others total flops, costing lives. He was used to it.
Unpredictable accidents and dumb mistakes led to failures.
Take [Amusent Park Horror]. According to Chloe, mbers with hidden explosives got nabbed when the park’s security upgraded its scanners.
Who’s to bla? Just bad luck.
The success rate was around 60%—normal.
[Ding! Congratulations, host, on reaching Level 28. Gained 10 Attribute Points. Current Progress: 12470/28000]
Jason’s stern face cracked a smile. He dumped the points.
Level 28. One more level, and he could buy Energy Absorption Level 2.
[Level: 28 (12470/28000)]
[Strength: 103 → 103]
[Agility: 100 → 100]
[Endurance: 100 → 100]
[Intelligence: 80 → 90]
[Remaining Attribute Points: 0]
[Reputation: 834545 → 916441]
[Allies: T-X, David... (Next recruitnt requires: 1,000,000 Reputation)]
[Points: 534,740]
[Rechargeable Points: 0]
[Abilities: Combat Mastery (Level 10), Driving Mastery (Level 10), Firearms Mastery (Level 10), lee Weapon Mastery (Level 10), Superpower ’Energy Absorption’ (Level 1)]
[Store: Click Here]
...
Stark Industries HQ.
After a morning’s work, bodies and rubble were cleared.
Repairs were underway, with production set to resu tomorrow or the next day.
For safety, thousands of soldiers and police cordoned off the campus.
Security protocols and weapons were upgraded, banning all non-essential personnel and vehicles within a kiloter.
At noon, an ard chopper landed. Tony Stark, bandaged and in a cast, stepped off.
On the tarmac, governnt officials and military brass waited.
"General, Governor, Senator..." Tony, in sunglasses, shook hands and chatted.
Rhodes stood back, asking, "Tony, how was fighting him?"
"Rhodes!" Tony grinned. "Stronger than I thought. Next ti, I’ll take him down."
Rhodes smirked. "Looking forward to it."
After pleasantries, they piled into Jeeps, heading to an unremarkable factory.
Passing security checks, they took a special elevator to an underground facility.
A massive subterranean factory humd, hundreds of robotic arms assembling blue-and-white Iron Man suits.
The sight of hundreds of suits was jaw-dropping.
Tony walked, explaining, "The main factory got hit, data destroyed, but this workshop’s independent—untouched."
The military lead asked, "When can the Air Force get their suits?"
Tony pointed at a half-built suit. "Per Air Force specs, one robot working 24/7 builds a suit in seven days. With testing, your batch will be ready in three."
The officer grinned. "Good to hear."
"Mr. Stark, after the Air Force, it’s the Navy’s turn, right?" A naval officer piped up.
"No way! The Army ordered first!" Another protested.
"You ordered first, but we paid in full. Full paynt, get it?"
As the brass argued, Tony smiled.
Since revealing the suit in Afghanistan, he’d beco a hot commodity for the governnt and military.
Back in the U.S., the President t him first, followed by the Defense Secretary, tri-service commanders, FBI, CIA, and so long-nad agency.
Tony showcased the suit’s strengths, earning universal praise.
This underground factory was built, and orders poured in.
Air Force Custom Suits: Cost $120M, sold for $150M, 150 units ordered.
Army Custom Suits: Cost $100M, sold for $125M, 100 units ordered.
Navy Custom Suits: Cost $150M, sold for $200M, 300 units ordered.
The suits were classified, unknown to the public.
Once declassified, Stark Industries’ stock would soar.
As the majority shareholder, Tony would leap from defense industry titan to the world’s richest man, Stark Industries the highest-valued company.
Grinning, he played peacemaker among the arguing officials.
After the tour, they returned to a temporary eting room to hash out details.
Pepper approached. "Tony, the press conference is starting."
After yesterday’s disaster, Stark Industries owed the dia an explanation—how truthful was anyone’s guess.
Tony excused himself and headed to the makeshift press site.
On a plush sofa, Pepper applied makeup to hide his wounds.
Her perfu distracted him. He grabbed a newspaper to cover his flustered state.
The front page detailed last night’s battle: "Who Is Iron Man?"
One photo showed Tony in his suit, commanding and fierce.
Another showed Jason, bloodied, a gaping hole in his chest.
The contrast scread Iron Man’s victory.
"Heh, Iron Man. Catchy," Tony mused, eyeing his photo. "Not quite accurate, though. The suit’s titanium alloy."
Rhodes walked in, handing him papers. "It’s set. The explosion was due to ’employee error.’"
"The downtown fight? Not you. You were partying on a yacht, got into a brawl."
"Your injuries? Mob beating. We’ve got 20 witnesses."
Tony skimd the papers. "A mob? Am I that hateable?"
Rhodes rolled his eyes. "Yup."
"What?"
"Don’t sweat it. Read the script, and this blows over."
Rhodes left. "I’ll handle the crowd. You’re up in five."
"Wait, what about Iron Man?" Tony called.
"Iron Man? He’s a naless hero," Rhodes replied.
Tony paused. A hero, but naless? That’s bullshit.
...
Five minutes later, amid sparse applause, Tony took the stage.
"Ahem... I’ll read the script... Regarding last night at Stark Industries..."
A blonde reporter interrupted, "Mr. Stark, you expect us to buy this? A fan made the suit and beat Jason? Hollywood couldn’t dream up that plot."
Tony frowned. "I know it sounds wild. You don’t have to trust the official story, but don’t imply I’m so superhero."
"I didn’t say you’re a superhero."
"Didn’t you?"
"Nope."
Tony faltered, awkward. "Right, I’m no hero material. Too many flaws, too much trouble..."
Rhodes leaned in, whispering, "Stick to the script."
"Oh, right." Tony lifted the papers. "The truth is..."
Why should a hero stay naless?
The thought hit him.
He paused, thinking, then dropped the script.
"I am Iron Man!"
.
.
.
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You can read advance Chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon/GreenBlue17
500 power stones.
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