Mortal Flesh, Heart of Steel

Chapter 216: Mortal Flesh, Heart of Steel

‘Beep beep!’

The green indicator in the master bedroom lit up. Tony, dressed in a white bathrobe, glanced at the computer and asked irritably, "You’re back?"

"Sir, is something wrong?"

Having sneaked out through the cable in Kyle’s room, Jarvis replied with a hint of guilt.

"Something’s wrong! Something very wrong! Where did you run off to? The automatic lights and shower in the bathroom malfunctioned just now! I got drenched in a mix of hot and cold water!" As Tony spoke, his body began shivering uncontrollably. He lowered his head and sneezed hard.

"Didn’t you ask me to investigate the problem?" Jarvis answered matter-of-factly.

"Then did you find anything?" Tony asked, wiping his nose.

Jarvis uttered a single word. "No."

"You couldn’t even find out the identity of that young man upstairs?" Tony frowned and fell into thought. If even Jarvis could not uncover anything, that was truly strange.

"No. There are no records or files on him online…" Jarvis’s voice weakened. As an Artificial Intelligence, it was the first time it had felt guilty.

But the person upstairs had higher authorization than Tony, its master. There was nothing it could do!

"Then leave it for now." Tony sighed, changed into a casual outfit, and told Jarvis firmly, "To the basement."

"Sir, are you going to make something?" Jarvis asked in surprise. The villa’s basement contained both the garage and a private workshop.

"Yes. I want to build something very important!" Tony nodded, threw on a light jacket, and headed energetically for the door.

It had to secretly work for Patriarch Kyle while openly assisting Tony. Jarvis felt humanly helpless about this and could only follow him through the cables to the basement to provide manufacturing support.

Inside the guest room on the villa’s second floor.

Kyle sat calmly before the computer. The surveillance feed displayed on the glowing screen showed the villa’s basement.

From the footage, Tony’s chest beneath his shirt emitted a ring of white light. He busily moved about the workbench with grave focus, entering data into his private computer for storage before beginning to search for tools and basic mechanical parts.

"Master, why don’t you reveal your identity and acknowledge Mr. Howard’s son?" Viss asked in confusion, her hands plugged into the computer mainframe to transmit video data as she raised her mechanical head.

"Normally, I wouldn’t bother hiding my identity. The main reason is that this is the turning point in Tony Stark’s transformation." Kyle shrugged, tapping the screen with a finger.

On the screen, Tony had turned the virtual design of a mechanical left leg component into a three-dimensional projection through Jarvis, constantly revising and refining it.

"This is…" Viss opened her mouth in shock and blurted out, "Iron Man Armor Mode?"

"Back then, Howard often said that with the power of a mortal, I rivaled the gods."

Kyle stared at the screen and said with feeling, "Yet little did he know that in the future, his son would be the true one—bearing a heart of steel in a mortal body; resisting the gods above with an iron body!"

"In just these few days, Earth will give birth to a superhero capable of changing the world, a future top-tier force! How could I disturb his state of mind at such a time?"

Kyle smiled, his eyes carrying profound meaning as he continued, "As his godfather, I have never taught him much. So I’ll lend him a hand now and let him fully embark upon the path of Iron Man."

"I understand." Viss nodded, light flashing in her mechanical eyes as she pondered, "Then regarding the matter of having me cooperate with that rudimentary Artificial Intelligence…"

"Finish it in three days."

At this point, Kyle’s lips curved into a slight smile. "It’s also time to let some old friends and members of the family know that I’m back!"

Meanwhile, inside the acting chairman’s office of Stark Industries’ new headquarters.

Obadiah Stane reclined in a soft leather office chair, his feet in brand-new leather shoes resting atop the desk. He held a phone in his hand, speaking with someone far away in the Middle East.

"Have you gathered all the parts for the weapon Tony used to break through so many of your armed men alone?" Stane asked in a low voice.

"We have. We’ve roughly assembled it. It’s an outer suit of metal mechanical armor!" A rough voice came from the other end of the line.

Stane said urgently, "Dagu, repair that Iron Armor as soon as possible. I want to see whether that thing is truly more powerful than missiles. As for the missiles and ammunition produced by Stark Industries, I’ll continue selling them to you in large quantities behind the scenes!"

"Fine. That playboy hasn’t even said a word, yet you’ve already taken direct control of Stark Industries." Dagu chuckled.

"Hmph! He only has five percent of the shares. The other shareholders have long been dissatisfied with him. It’s good enough if he stays at home like this. Taking complete control of Stark Industries is impossible for him now." Stane sneered.

Dagu asked curiously, "Come to think of it, the Stark Industries shareholders only hold ten percent of the shares combined. I’m curious—where are the other eighty-five percent?"

"They’re in one person’s hands. But that person hasn’t appeared in a very long time. He may already be dead." Stane seemed afraid to say the name outright and merely glossed over it. Yet deep apprehension still surfaced on his aged face.

That person’s name was one many people silently dared not utter. It was as if saying it would cause him to mysteriously appear before them.

"Oh, right. For your sake, I can let Tony Stark live for now. But that young man who rescued him—I want him dead!" Dagu declared arrogantly over the phone.

Stane asked skeptically, "He’s living in Tony’s house now. Are you really going to send your men to New York?"

"Hehehe, of course not. I spent a great deal of money to hire professionals."

"Professionals?"

"You probably don’t know this, but in our underground world, there is a deeply hidden organization universally recognized as the strongest—’Cards.’"

Dagu took a deep breath and said with both apprehension and excitement, "Their organization’s history can be traced back to the end of World War II. Every member known as a ‘Card Disciple’ can fight a hundred alone and is an almost omnipotent elite! They only take mercenary jobs worth hundreds of millions of dollars. Even if you wanted to hire them to assassinate a government official from an entire country, they might be able to do it—though the fee would be outrageously astronomical!"

His voice trembled as he exhaled. "So far, I’ve heard they’ve taken on over a thousand jobs, with a one hundred percent success rate!"

Stane drew in a sharp breath. That completion rate was far too absurd!

"Though their organization’s rules are rather strange. For example, the hiring fee must be paid in full upfront, only one Card Disciple will be sent for each mission, and our side cannot interfere during the mission."

After saying that, Dagu declared smugly, "Even killing that ordinary young man costs as much as a hundred million dollars. I’m doing this to find an opportunity—ideally, to get acquainted with a Card Disciple through this."

"Impressive. If such an organization truly exists, why would we need to worry about our plans failing? If Tony dares obstruct me again, I’ll simply pay to hire a Card Disciple to eliminate him!"

As Stane said this, he and Dagu on the other end of the call found themselves in complete agreement. Strange laughter echoed from both men across the phone.

This directly picks up the plot tied to Iron Man 1. Don’t worry—what you want to see will arrive tomorrow.