The next day, a Quinjet quietly approached Middle Eastern airspace.
Inside the cabin, a middle-aged man pointed at the barren desert below and said in a low voice, "This area is the last confirmed location where Tony Stark disappeared. The complex political situation limits us. We can't conduct a large-scale search, only a covert investigation. So keep a low profile."
Daniel nodded. "Relax, Village Chief. Low profile is my specialty."
"I'll repeat this again. My name is Coulson. I'm not a village chief."
"Stop pretending. You're totally the Village Chief of the Novice Village. I can see the title floating above your head."
"…"
Coulson instinctively glanced at his completely empty forehead, then let out a silent sigh of resignation.
He had read Daniel's file. He was well aware of this guy's… style.
Daniel: top graduate of S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. Ever since joining S.H.I.E.L.D. two months ago, he had displayed extraordinary individual capability and execution efficiency.
No matter how difficult the mission, he always handled it alone. He never drafted retreat plans, never required backup.
In just two months, he had completed 48 missions with a flawless 100% success rate.
Even Coulson—known across S.H.I.E.L.D. as a model workhorse—couldn't compare. Daniel had been promoted directly to Level 5 Agent, breaking the record for the fastest promotion in S.H.I.E.L.D. history.
However, Daniel possessed an almost obsessive fixation with mission completion—borderline unscrupulous.
During a covert infiltration mission, he slaughtered nearly a hundred soldiers in the base. No one survived. Not even the two guard dogs.
Nick Fury immediately sealed the incident.
Nearly a hundred casualties—this was essentially a small-scale conflict.
They were S.H.I.E.L.D., not Hydra.
When Fury later confronted him, Daniel's justification was unusually righteous:
"No witnesses, no alarms triggered. Isn't that the most perfect infiltration?"
Yes. Very "creative".
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s psychological report suggested that Daniel likely suffered from severe delusions.
To him, the whole world was a massive virtual game.
Everyone else was an NPC.
And he was the sole player.
By all logic, such an unpredictable and dangerous individual should have been placed on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest-alert blacklist, under strict surveillance.
But Fury did not.
After all, what boss would willingly fire the one employee raising the company's KPI by himself?
So Fury chose to quietly turn a blind eye.
Well, he never really opened both eyes anyway.
Naturally, if the big boss tolerated it, his subordinate Coulson wasn't going to protest.
"If the plan looks good, I'll have the pilot find a safe landing spot," Coulson said, reaching for the cockpit communicator.
"No need for that trouble."
Daniel waved him off.
Before Coulson could react, Daniel casually pressed the cabin door release button.
Coulson's face instantly drained of color. "Wait! We're hundreds of meters up! You don't have a parachute—"
"Wuhu! Takeoff!"
Before the words fully left Coulson's mouth, Daniel shouted gleefully, opened his arms, and dove straight out.
Coulson stood frozen, stunned into silence.
Yellow sand gusted below.
Daniel plummeted from the sky, the violent air tearing at his clothes, the screaming wind filling his ears.
The ground zoomed closer—jagged rocks and rolling dunes clearly visible.
Yet Daniel remained calm. His body twisted mid-air, flipping into a sky-facing posture. His arms spread, then folded tightly over his chest.
At the very instant before impact—
Boom!
A huge, dry, fluffy bale of hay materialized beneath him. Daniel landed squarely in it, sending hay flying everywhere.
He hopped out of the haystack easily, unharmed.
[Skill: Leap of Faith]
[Effect: Whenever you fall from a great height, a haystack will appear beneath you, negating all fall damage.]
[Evaluation: Nothing is true, everything is permitted.]
He'd obtained this skill from a mission reward—practical and, more importantly, incredibly stylish.
He now felt the urge to jump whenever he stood somewhere even slightly elevated.
"Where have I been dropped now?"
He scanned the surroundings. Nothing but monotonous dunes. The harsh environment made orientation difficult, let alone searching for someone.
Not that this was a problem for him.
"System, track the mission target."
[Mission target 'Tony Stark' marked]
A golden marker appeared on the minimap.
"Not too far," Daniel murmured, heading toward the glowing point.
Several dozen minutes later—
Following the waypoint, Daniel reached the edge of a valley surrounded by towering rocky mountains.
He crouched and peered down. Hidden at the bottom was a crude encampment.
Sandbag fortifications and barbed wire lined the perimeter. Inside were crates labeled Stark Industries and scattered fragments of missile components.
Armed militants patrolled the camp—at least forty men.
The golden mission marker shone from deep inside a cave at the rear of the camp.
Daniel noted that the path into the cave was heavily guarded, making infiltration difficult.
Normally, he would've been itching to fight.
But this mission was important.
Before locating the target, he couldn't risk alarming the enemy.
"Looks like I need an alternate route."
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
The sharp sound of metal striking metal echoed through the cave.
In the dim light, someone was hammering away at a piece of iron.
Don't misunderstand—this wasn't the hammer-wielding "Prison Emperor," but the MAN of Iron: Tony Stark.
Ever since terrorists abducted him three months ago, he'd been imprisoned in this isolated cave, subjected to threats and intimidation, all to force him to build a new missile.
But Tony? Raised rebellious since childhood—tell him to go east and he would definitely go west.
Under the guise of missile manufacturing, he requisitioned materials and tools from the terrorists. With the help of fellow captive Dr. Ho Yinsen, he secretly designed and built a suit of iron armor they could use to escape.
Tony clamped a steel mask with tongs and placed it on the workbench. Yinsen, hearing the sound, looked up.
"We're nearly done with the core components. All that's left is assembly and activating the power system," Yinsen said.
Tony's voice was low and hoarse, tinged with fatigue.
"Yinsen, our time's running out. They're getting suspicious. We need to act soon."
"Leave the rest to me," Yinsen replied firmly.
"Good. When the time comes, hide here. After I wipe out the scum outside and confirm safety, you follow me out."
Tony's eyes were filled with determination.
Everything he had endured had changed him from a reckless hedonist into someone far more grounded.
He swore inwardly:
If he survived this ordeal, Tony Stark would never touch gambling again!
With Yinsen's help, Tony began fastening the heavy armor pieces onto his body.
Thud… thud… thud…
While the two worked, an odd, muffled digging sound suddenly came from beneath their feet.
"What was that?"
They froze, exchanging baffled looks.
Before they could react, a horrifying scene unfolded—
The rock floor less than two meters away simply… vanished, as if erased by an invisible rubber.
A perfectly square hole, one meter across, appeared instantly.
Suddenly, a head popped up from the square opening—
Staring straight at Tony.
"Found you!"