Just then, Obadiah's computer suddenly received an encrypted video.
He hurriedly opened it.
As expected, it was footage sent by a terrorist group. Xu Dan couldn't understand their language, but from the images alone, Tony was clearly on the brink of death, clutching a car battery to survive.
The last time Xu Dan saw him, Tony had been bouncing around like a game addict begging for in-game privileges… and now he was reduced to this pitiful state.
Jarvis seemed to register the video as well.
"Mr. Stark has been kidnapped?!"
"Mm." Xu Dan replied with a low voice. "And he's injured."
"We need to rescue Mr. Stark!"
"Rescue is already underway."
"…Thank you, sir."
"No need. Just do your job."
Meanwhile, S.H.I.E.L.D. had contacted the military forces stationed near Afghanistan.
Among them was Tony's old friend, Colonel Rhodes.
The moment the news came in, everyone moved at once.
Tony Stark's identity carried enormous weight—no matter what obstacles lay ahead, they had to get him back. If it had been an ordinary civilian, they would've already forgotten; the U.S. military couldn't care less about the lives of a few civilians.
Their so-called human rights were a joke.
But Tony Stark was their number-one weapons supplier, the man who armed them with overwhelming power. He couldn't be allowed to die.
Not that they knew this rescue would mark the end of that partnership.
Xu Dan shut down the computer and rose to his feet. "I'm heading out."
"I thank you again on behalf of Mr. Stark, sir!"
"No need. Go."
When Xu Dan went back upstairs, he found Nick Fury waiting with an unreadable expression.
He immediately asked, "I know your technology is extremely advanced—don't worry, I'm not trying to steal it. I just want to understand… how did you identify those coordinates so quickly?"
"You still want to pretend you're not trying to steal my tech? I'll steal your monkey!"
Tony had been kidnapped—Xu Dan had no intention of lingering in someone else's home. He was already preparing to leave.
But Nick Fury kept chasing after him, "Xu Dan, I really, really just want a clue… okay, okay!"
One look at Xu Dan's eye-roll was enough to shut him up.
He pitied his dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D. tech experts, stationed in Antarctica for so long, yet all they'd learned didn't even amount to one ten-thousandth of Xu Dan's skill.
Would they ever reach his level?
Oh, God.
Nick Fury suspected he wouldn't live long enough to see that day.
He needed a way… any way… to handle this man named Xu Dan.
There were three coordinate points Xu Dan had sent to S.H.I.E.L.D.
He hadn't specified which one Tony was at.
There was no hidden meaning behind it—he simply couldn't be bothered to keep searching.
If he did it himself, it would waste too much time.
The military had manpower. Searching three fixed locations would be easy for them.
Under Colonel Rhodes's command, the army quickly swept through the first two coordinate points but found no trace of Tony.
Then Tony had to be at the third.
"Take off! Head for coordinate number three!"
With that order, the helicopter lifted off again.
They descended near the third coordinate and landed.
The helicopter's noise was immense, so they always touched down a safe distance from the stronghold to avoid alerting the enemy.
Two heavily armed soldiers leapt out, creeping forward—only to discover four S.H.I.E.L.D. agents already waiting. They had taken out the sentries.
That made things much easier.
Rhode rushed to the front. As Tony Stark's military liaison and friend, he wanted to save Tony as badly as anyone.
"The fighting needs to end quickly. Tony's in a very dangerous situation," one agent said.
Rhode nodded sharply, signaled his soldiers, and the unit fanned out, surrounding and closing in on the terrorist stronghold.
Inside, the terrorists were still watching Tony and Ethan work in the cave.
They had given Tony Stark one week to build them the Jericho missile—a humiliating command to any ordinary man.
But Tony Stark was not ordinary. He was Tony Stark.
After days of effort, he had extracted rare materials from the missiles, built a reactor for his chest, and finally freed himself from the cumbersome car battery.
No one wanted to die helplessly in a cave. And with a head full of knowledge, Tony wasn't the type to sit still.
He hadn't even gotten to play that virtual game yet!
More than anything, he wanted to go home—back to his villa, far away from all this danger.
The terrorists' lair was stocked with weapons manufactured by Stark Industries.
Who knew what had gone wrong?
Right now, Tony's will to survive had never been stronger. Clenching his fists, he swore to himself that he would get out alive and uncover the truth.
Just then, chaotic gunfire erupted outside.
Tony looked toward Ethan, the physicist who had been captured along with him. "What's happening?!"
"I don't know! Put it on—hurry! I'll buy you time!"
"Ethan! Ethan!"
…
News of Tony's return shook the U.S. internet once again.
Even though ever since The King of Fighters, more and more topics revolved around Antarctic Games—up to 90% of all discussions now—Stark Industries' playboy chairman was still a beloved darling of the media. His disappearance was destined to become a sensational headline.
After Tony Stark stepped off the plane, the first thing on his mind wasn't beautiful women or parties.
He wanted to hold a press conference.
After announcing that Stark Industries would shut down its weapons manufacturing division, Tony ignored the uproar, accusations, and shouting from reporters and simply walked away.
He didn't want to say another word. He was exhausted.
Harpy drove the car, carrying Tony and Pepper straight to the villa.
The moment he stepped inside, a long-missed voice greeted him:
"Welcome back, sir!"
As Jarvis spoke, soft lights glowed to life throughout the hallway, as if soothing the wounds on Tony's body.
"Wow, Old Jarvis, why are you being so tender? You're giving me goosebumps!" Tony bragged.
"Sir, would you like me to switch to DJ mode?"
"Forget it, no need. This is fine."Pepper helped Tony into the living room, where he was finally struck by the sight—Jarvis, and flowers placed neatly on the table.
"Alright… thanks, man."
-----------------------
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