Tony's impulsive stunt caught Pepper completely off guard, but it also earned thunderous applause from every journalist and spectator present.
Even the reporter who had been conducting a private interview with Hammer immediately abandoned him and rushed over to the television, just in time to see Tony Stark enthusiastically waving at the camera.
At that very moment, she was already anxiously wondering what kind of exclusive interview she should arrange next.
That was why—no matter where Tony Stark appeared—he was guaranteed to become the center of attention.
Justin Hammer's expression looked worse than if he had just eaten shit.
According to Pepper, this female reporter had once shared a very intimate encounter with Tony Stark.
Hammer had originally planned to use every trick he had to lure the shapely reporter into bed. At the very least, he wanted to experience the pleasure of defeating Tony Stark on another battlefield.
To that end, he had even ordered his men to prepare some "assistance drugs." You never knew, after all…
Now furious, he downed the large glass of alcohol on the table in one gulp.
Justin Hammer impatiently loosened his tie.
The next second, an image suddenly appeared on the television screen, and his gaze froze in place.
A burly man filled the frame, looking as though he carried the blood of ancient war within him.
He was wearing the uniform of a racing team's pit mechanic, a matchstick clenched casually between his lips.
He vaulted directly out of the pit lane and onto the track.
The race was already underway, the track filled with cars roaring past at terrifying speeds.
You had to understand—Formula One cars average over 300 kilometers per hour through corners.
If someone suddenly appeared on the track, there was often no time to react. If you hit him, even nine lives wouldn't save you—eight of them would be gone instantly.
Yet this man from a warlike nation didn't hesitate for a second.
With a flick of his wrists, two whips materialized in his hands.
He tore open his orange work uniform.
A miniature arc reactor embedded in his chest flared to life, glowing blue as it surged to full power.
Energy flowed along the crude circuitry across his body and poured into the twin metal whips.
The thin fabric of his uniform turned to ash and scattered in the wind.
The whips crackled with terrifying force—when dragged lightly across the ground, they carved deep grooves into the surface of the track.
"My God… this is practically tailor-made for me!"
Justin Hammer couldn't help jumping to his feet.
There was no doubt that the arc reactor could solve most of the world's energy problems.
Rumor had it that Elon Musk had once offered a massive share of his company in exchange for the right to use the technology—promising to install it only in his cars—but Tony Stark had refused.
In fact, this was exactly where Hammer's joint project with the military had stalled.
Even with all weapons stripped away, the armor's interior was still packed with the most advanced batteries available.
That amount of power couldn't even lift the armor a single meter off the ground, let alone sustain it in prolonged combat.
Unfortunately, even under enormous pressure from the Senate, Tony Stark had still refused to hand over the technology.
And yet now—here was another miniature arc reactor, one that looked mature, stable, and terrifyingly powerful.
Judging by the violent energy surging from those whips, it was something that should have been installed in Hammer's own armor.
As Justin Hammer stared at the arc reactor—at the crude equipment, at Ivan Vanko's rugged face that clearly bore the marks of a hard life—a deeply satisfied smile spread across his face.
Unlike Justin Hammer, Qin Xiao watched from the hotel rooftop below with his teeth clenched in rage.
Even as race cars thundered past on the opposite side of the track, Ivan Vanko strode forward calmly, head held high, his steps steady and unhurried.
Damn it—he really does have a matchstick in his mouth!
Qin Xiao spat angrily off the rooftop.
His right hand unconsciously brushed the bridge of his nose and his eye.
The last time I tried to show off in Mexico, I got hit by a rocket launcher in just three seconds.
Even now, recalling it made his eyeball ache.
You're a villain—why the hell are you being so arrogant?!
The angrier Qin Xiao became, the more his gaze swept across the rooftop.
Ivan Vanko's appearance sent waves of shocked gasps through the wealthy elites gathered in the bar of the Hôtel de Paris.
Especially when he sliced a speeding F1 car clean in half with his whip—the entire venue descended into chaos.
At that moment, Happy Hogan jumped into a car, carrying Tony Stark's newly developed Mark V suitcase armor—"For Pepper"—and charged onto the track.
The arc reactor on that man's chest looked eerily similar to Tony's—clearly something meant for Tony Stark himself.
Seeing this, Thor immediately stood up.
"Thor! What are you doing?!" Jane shouted.
"Didn't you say this man was targeting Qin Xiao's friend? Qin Xiao went somewhere—I'm going to save his friend!"
Without waiting for Jane to say anything else, Thor took off like a gust of wind.
By then, Tony's race car had entered Ivan Vanko's line of sight.
Vanko twisted his body slightly and lashed out with a whip.
The energy was as unstoppable as a lightsaber—it cleaved the front of the car clean off.
Tony was launched into the air along with half the vehicle, tumbling several times before crashing heavily onto the track.
Then he saw Ivan Vanko advancing toward him, both whips crackling, murder in his eyes.
Behind them, the cars that followed tried desperately to avoid the wreck—colliding, exploding, flipping over as debris flew through the air.
They roared past Ivan Vanko, yet none of them harmed him.
Ignoring the explosions behind him, he walked step by step toward Tony Stark, who had just crawled out of the wreckage.
Before entering attack range, Ivan deliberately snapped his whips against the ground twice, heightening the psychological pressure.
Just as he raised his whips to strike—
A sharp, shrill farting sound tore through the air.
Ivan Vanko turned his head just in time to see a black blur screaming toward him.
Bang!
Everything went black.
Ivan Vanko felt as though something moving at incredible speed had smashed directly into his face.
A massive impact slammed into his head, launching his body into the air and into the wire fence beside the track.
His head lolled to one side—and he lost consciousness.
"Oh yeah!"
On a nearby rooftop, Qin Xiao pumped his fist hard in triumph.