"Her power is controlling mosquitoes?" Tony asked.
"No. She's a super-sized mosquito herself." Jack thought of the image Mosquito Girl had sent him—her evolution had gone out of control, turning her blood sacs into two enormous, grotesque balloons. He had still saved it, compressed tenfold.
"She was engineered by scientists on another planet using mosquito traits. She drinks human blood to grow stronger."
"What the hell? That's basically a vampire!" Tony was shocked that vampires actually existed.
Jack shook his head.
"No, no—she's a mosquito, not a bat. But there is a real vampire. Take a look. Oscorp found him—Morbius."
"A scientist who tried to cure his own blood disease and ended up turning himself into something almost identical to a vampire. Later, Oscorp imprisoned him. Now he's locked in my special cell."
Jack opened a file containing videos and documents of the weakened Morbius being studied, along with photos of him later sealed inside a twenty-ton steel block.
Tony watched with interest. The vampire looked like he'd been stuffed into a toilet.
"You locked him in a bathroom?"
"Oh? You can tell that's a toilet?"
"Saw one in India." Tony shuddered. "Never going back."
Jack: (O_o)? There's definitely a story here.
Tony: As if I'd ever admit that during a business trip in India, a hand suddenly reached out from under the stall, nearly grabbed my junk, and cheerfully said, 'Master Stark, five thousand dollars a go.'
Jack didn't press. Tony looked like he was about to puke—clearly the incident had scarred him for life.
"This is my latest prison design, tailor-made for superhumans. Four walls of one-meter-thick refined steel with internal grooves. The prisoner is locked into the groove, then a twenty-ton steel block is lowered in perfect alignment, leaving only a toilet-sized gap."
Tony commented, "Seems like a waste." He had no interest in such modified humans.
Jack waved helplessly. "No choice. Right now I can't think of a better way to keep supers from escaping."
"Right now, the world's rich are fleeing to the U.S., so our job is to throw the world into chaos."
Tony watched footage of Southeast Asian warlords being bombed, European and American tycoons assassinated, and Mosquito Girl darting across the Middle East.
He rubbed his temples. "Jack, do you realize what you've done? Keep this up and the world will go to hell. Europe's going to riot."
Jack shrugged. "Whatever. Small sacrifices for the big picture."
Seeing he couldn't stop him, Tony refused to get involved. He'd just build as many armors as possible to handle whatever came next.
He left in a hurry. "I know nothing about today. And you never saw me."
Jack's actions were too massive—far beyond anything Tony had imagined.
Though Tony despised siding with capitalists and politicians, he didn't have the balls to offend so many at once. Even he had to count the cost.
Jack had antagonized the global one percent. If things blew up, Tony would be dragged in too. He wasn't afraid for himself—but Pepper and Happy were another matter.
So this time, he'd only provide behind-the-scenes tech support.
Jack looked out over bustling Manhattan. In a few dozen minutes, the already noisy island would become truly unruly.
For now, the U.S. was safe—his laboratory especially—if one ignored General Ross's visit yesterday.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The office phone rang. Seeing the number 9 on the display, Jack picked it up.
"Marshal, your laboratory may have a small problem. Need me to handle it?" Sitwell's voice came through as a video-share request popped up.
Jack accepted the feed and saw a large military force advancing toward his laboratory.
He frowned. "Whose troops are these?"
Sitwell replied, "General Ross's men. They haven't found the general, so they're moving on your laboratory. Heavily armed. Want us to send them home?"
"Can I get there before them?" Jack asked.
Sitwell checked with an agent beside him. "Marshal, if needed, we can stall them until you arrive."
"Arrange a jet. I'm heading back."
"Yes, Marshal."
Ten minutes later, Jack landed at the laboratory.
He dropped straight down, leaving two craters in the ground.
The aircrew exhaled in relief once they saw him land safely and immediately flew off.
Jack flicked mud off his shoes—whoosh—
Watching one sole fly away, he flicked again, sending the other shoe flying as well.
He headed inside to change footwear, pausing to pat Wanda—busy researching diet pills—on the head. A little plump looked fine to him. No need to chase skinny, as long as the curves didn't disappear.
Reaching the main gate, he heard vehicles pulling up outside.
Jack palmed a can of self-defense spray.
Sure enough, a large eye appeared through an armor-piercing shell hole. Jack sprayed straight into the gap.
A piercing scream erupted outside.
"Ahhh! My eyes—my eyes!"
More soldiers jumped down to help him.
"Get him to the medics," the leader ordered, then shouted at the gate, "Listen up inside. Cooperate with the search. We have a government warrant. Resistance will cost you more than you can afford."
Jack swaggered open a side door and leaned against it. "I'm right here. Go on—try me."
"Mr. Jack, we are under orders to search for General Ross and the dangerous fugitive Bruce Banner. Please cooperate."
The officer was polite, but Jack didn't budge.
"Look behind you," Jack said casually. "You might want to rethink that."
The officer glanced back at the long column of troops a hundred meters away, confused.
Just as he turned to argue, he heard a sound he would remember for the rest of his life.
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