Suddenly, a massive, deafening commotion erupted from the large television screen broadcasting the Monaco Grand Prix live.
A large, frantic group of reporters, microphones shoved forward, cameras flashing wildly, along with hordes of screaming female fans, poured out of the exclusive VIP section and surrounded Tony Stark as he swaggered out.
He was wearing a bespoke, dark blue racing suit, looking every bit the reckless millionaire, climbing casually over the pit lane wall and heading straight into the preparation area.
Another live stream camera zoomed in on Tony's face.
"The purpose of owning a Formula One race car is for racing, isn't it?" Tony shouted to the nearest microphone, his voice slightly muffled but booming with arrogance. "Otherwise, what's the actual point of having a race car? Just a shiny toy? Not for me, folks!"
Pepper, who was still trying to process the humiliation of Justin Hammer and the arrival of Natalie Rushman, immediately saw the familiar figure on the live feed. She gasped, grabbing the nearest person. "Natalie! Natalie!"
Natasha walked over, her face a mask of professional calm. "Miss Potts, yes?"
"Did you have this insanity penciled into his schedule, Natalie? Did you know he planned to hijack a Formula One race? He could get seriously hurt!" Pepper demanded, her panic rising as she watched Tony strap himself into the driver's seat.
"I only just realized exactly how I can help you, Miss Potts," Natasha replied smoothly, already moving.
"Where's Happy? Where is he right now?" Pepper looked around frantically for the massive, reliable bodyguard.
"He's outside, guarding the entrance," Natasha confirmed.
"Go! Go find him! I need Happy, and I need him now!" Pepper was practically vibrating with anxiety, her eyes glued to the TV feed of Tony accelerating out of the pit lane.
Natasha turned and left, moving with a controlled, predatory speed, showing remarkable responsibility and focus.
Leo, witnessing the whole glorious, televised mess, calmly finished his Coke. He slid off the bar stool, walked out the main gate, and headed directly toward the side of the racetrack, following the noise of the revving engines.
Darting through the frenzied crowds like a small, purposeful fish, Leo used his enhanced senses to ignore the sensory overload of the venue.
He didn't need to look at the screens anymore. His internal GPS and the subtle hum of electromagnetic energy guided him. Scanning the track about a kilometer down, sure enough, he spotted the figure.
There was Ivan Vanko, his maintenance worker clothes bulging abnormally over a bulky, improvised exoskeleton.
Got him.
Ivan was ready to leap the low barrier and enter the track. He had just finished securing his crude helmet over his head.
Before he could take more than a few tense steps toward the railing, Ivan suddenly became rigid. His entire upper body exoskeleton, the twin arm rigs designed to house the energy whips, became instantly locked, suspended in the air. No matter how much he strained and how hard he tried to flex his considerable muscles, he couldn't break free of the invisible, crushing force holding him.
Leo was using his invisible Matter Manipulation power, applying a concentrated, gravitational lock only on the metal components of the suit.
In that instant of utter paralysis, Ivan felt an unprecedented, ice-cold fear. He thought Tony Stark had known, had anticipated his arrival, and was prepared with a subtle, undetectable countermeasure.
So now, the man driven by vengeance was stuck, standing conspicuously on the very edge of the world-famous Grand Prix track, his body immobilized, the exoskeleton on his upper body bearing his entire weight of over 100 kilograms as his feet occasionally lifted inches off the ground.
Leo, who was about a kilometer away in the crowded stands, calmly continued walking towards the track's edge, maintaining the subtle, invisible lock on Ivan's metal casing. The roar of Formula One cars sped past the frozen figure one by one, a vivid contrast to the man's silent, raging desperation.
Ivan, standing out like a dangerous, unmoving statue by the roadside, quickly attracted the attention of the on-track, live-streaming cameras.
"We seem to have some kind of staff issue on the track! That marshal is standing right by the curb! What is he doing? Why isn't he moving?!" the confused race announcer yelled over the broadcast.
Then, Ivan saw Tony's unique blue and white race car approach. Vengeance temporarily overcame fear. He slammed his body downward with pure, raw human force, managing to break the invisible lock for a split second.
He activated his suit. Two deadly, crackling whips shot out through the specialized wheels on his back, simultaneously triggering the charging switch. The powerful electric current instantly burned through the flimsy work clothes, revealing the brightly glowing, single Arc Reactor pulsating in the center of his chest.
That sight alone—a man, standing on a racetrack, armed with energy weapons and powered by a stolen Arc Reactor—was enough to make Tony, who had just sped past Ivan, slam violently on the brakes, stopping his car in a screech of tires and smoke about a dozen meters away.
Meanwhile, in the hotel lobby, Pepper was frantically trying to process the escalating chaos on TV.
"Happy! Tony might be in immediate danger! We need to get there right now! Where is the briefcase? The Mark V!" Pepper looked at Happy's bare hands and asked, her voice tight with panic.
"Leo grabbed it, Miss Potts! About five minutes ago!" Happy said, his face screwed up in anxiety. "Said he was going to hand-deliver it to the boss!"
"What?! Leo took the armor?! When did he—"
"Doesn't matter now!" Happy interrupted, already sprinting. "Let's go! We need an ambulance for the quickest route!"
Similarly, Justin Hammer, who had been brooding in the hotel lobby, saw the televised spectacle. His eyes gleamed with a predatory, calculating ambition as they locked onto the simple, terrifyingly efficient chest reactor and the energy whips.
Leo, now much closer, saw the entire sequence unfold. He was tempted to instantly vaporize Ivan Vanko with a controlled field of Matter Manipulation.
This is becoming tedious. I just wanted to see where Tony would finish the race.
He looked at Tony, who was climbing out of the crushed race car, watching Ivan from a safe distance, clearly terrified but unwilling to back down.
Should I just kill Vanko now and save everyone a lot of trouble? Leo pondered.
At this moment, several other race cars, unable to pass the stopped vehicles, barreled out from behind the track. One of the cars, driven by a panicked racer, made a sharp, uncontrolled turn and skidded to a stop in the middle of the road, almost causing a massive, fiery pile-up.
Leo waved his hand subtly. An invisible force field pushed the two cars immediately behind the stopped vehicle, forcing them to turn and slightly lift their bodies to pass over the car before slowing to a halt.
He walked to the very edge of the track so Tony could see him clearly.
Tony's eyes, visible through the remnants of his shattered visor, lit up when he saw the metallic briefcase in Leo's hand. He shouted across the asphalt, "Toss it over! Now, kid!"
Leo casually tossed the briefcase, watching it arc perfectly towards Tony. "Need any other assistance, Mr. Stark?"
"Leo, step aside and get safe! I'll handle this myself! This is not your fight!" Tony yelled back, his voice hoarse with adrenaline.
Tony triggered the mechanism. The Mark V briefcase transformed with a loud, mechanical hum. He lifted both hands, snapping the primary pieces onto his chest. He spread his arms wide, and the remaining outer armor sections closed around him like the shell of a massive, metallic shrimp. The external leg parts extended and locked into place.
The suit—designed for compact transport and fast deployment—was far weaker defensively than the main Mark series. But it was undeniably one of the coolest transformations.
In just under twenty seconds, the Mark V was fully equipped.
"Whoa!!!"
The entire surrounding area—the crowd, the officials, the reporters—erupted into a chaotic mix of screams and cheers. It was the first time the public had ever witnessed Tony Stark transform into the Iron Man in person, and the spectacle was jaw-dropping.
At the same time, countless cameras and live feeds were now pointed solely at the steel figure in the middle of the track. Iron Man had once again appeared live in front of a massive global audience.
Leo took the opportunity. He released the remaining control he had over Ivan Vanko, allowing him to be fully mobile.
Since Tony explicitly told me to leave, let's make the scene bigger.
After much deliberation, Leo felt that this crucible moment was necessary. Tony Stark had recently become Iron Man, and his personality had changed drastically. He was arrogant, reckless, and deeply dismissive of any threat. If he didn't experience this brutal, personal setback—if he wasn't forced to bleed a little—would he still become the self-sacrificing, world-saving Iron Man of his past life?
Tony was now basking in the fame and the title, which had inflated his ego, but he was also facing the imminent threat of death from palladium poisoning and the terrifying possibility of his reactor simply failing. This clash of external threat and internal decay would create the most intense internal struggle Tony had ever faced, and all of it would forge the transformed, truly heroic Iron Man.
Leo was happy to simply enjoy the spectacle he couldn't experience in his previous life: watching Whiplash 1.0 fight against the Mark V, the armor with the weakest defenses.
Ivan, suddenly free and no longer afraid of Tony, strode forward, wielding his two deadly whips.
The Arc Reactor on Ivan's chest glowed intensely. The first whip lashed out, cutting through the air with devastating speed, striking the Mark V's right arm and leaving a deep, charred welt. The electronic shock traveling through the whip instantly extinguished the pulse cannon muzzle in Tony's hand. Before Tony could react, the second plasma whip wrapped tightly around the Mark V's torso.
With a powerful surge from his arm booster, Ivan lifted Tony into the air and slammed him brutally onto the remains of his shattered race car, creating a massive, sickening dent in the metalwork.
With Tony entangled and the pulse cannons disabled by the electromagnetic shock, he was forced into brutal, desperate melee combat.
Tony activated the full-body strength of the armor, using the low damage rate of the Mark V to gain the opportunity for a single, powerful close-range strike. He rushed forward, swinging a heavy, metallic punch.
One single, bone-shattering blow was enough. He brought down the defenseless Ivan. The immense, mechanically-assisted power left the Russian lying on the ground, coughing up blood and tangled in his own whips.
Tony, prioritizing safety, ripped the reactor right out of Ivan's chest. The powerless engineer was immediately dragged away by security, but he was still laughing maniacally, his eyes fixed on Tony.
"You lost! You lost, Stark! You bled! The great Iron Man bled for all the world to see!" Ivan screamed, his voice raw and filled with triumph, even as he was being hauled away.
Leo could clearly see the deep furrow in Tony's brow and the look of worried, internal conflict in his eyes through the Mark V's mask. The fight was won, but the victory was hollow.
Pepper and Happy arrived in the rescue ambulance moments later, finding the fight already over. Fortunately, thanks to Leo's unseen intervention forcing the other racers to slow down, no innocent racers or civilians were injured, and all the cars, except for Tony's, were merely scratched.
Watching the entire, perfect spectacle—the ambush, the reactor, the transformation, and the weakness of the hero—Justin Hammer laughed maniacally to himself in the VIP suite. He had an idea. I can build that. I can weaponize this.
Two hours later, Tony arrived at the heavily secured holding cell where Ivan Vanko was being detained by Monaco authorities.
The two were alone in a small, secret room, Vanko's hands and feet restrained by heavy-duty cuffs.
Tony didn't bother with pleasantries. "Where did you steal the design blueprints for that reactor and those weapons, Vanko?"
Vanko leaned forward, his face intense and filled with bitter knowledge. "Your family, the Starks, they are parasites and butchers. Like every sinner, you want to rewrite your history and forget the lives the Stark legacy has taken."
"My father, Anton Vanko, is the only reason you didn't die in that cave, Stark! He co-created the technology that saved you!"
"I didn't die because you tried to kill me in public, Vanko, but you failed," Tony corrected him coldly.
Vanko let out a chilling, rattling laugh. His eyes, burning with vengeance, were full of dangerous conviction.
"If you can make God bleed, people will not believe in him anymore, Stark. I showed the world that you are just a man inside a fragile tin can. Now there is blood in the water. The sharks will come. I just need to sit here and watch as the world devours you and everything you claim to stand for."