Rampaging Through the Heavens: Starting by sending Chan Ho-nam to Stanley

Chapter 206 Tony Stark Disappears

S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

This building in Washington, D.C., looks unremarkable from the outside, with its gray and white facade and square outline, not much different from the surrounding government buildings.

Only the few inconspicuous surveillance cameras at the entrance and the dozens of layers of reinforced concrete structure deep underground vaguely reveal the unusual nature of this building.

Nick Fury sat behind his desk, his muscular body wrapped in a black leather jacket, an eye patch covering his left eye, and his remaining eye staring at a stack of documents spread out on the desk.

His expression was calm, but beneath that calm lay a vigilance ready to erupt at any moment, like a lurking cheetah.

He flipped through the reports that had been submitted from various places that day.

"A suspected fire broke out at the Fisker Building last night. Several shell casings were found at the scene. Nearby residents heard continuous gunshots. When the police arrived, the scene had been cleared, and no casualties were found..."

Fury narrowed his one eye slightly.

Wilson Fiske.

That guy who calls himself "Kingpin," the overlord of New York's underworld.

A fight? Who would fight him? What forces have dared to touch his territory lately?

He put the report aside and continued flipping through the pages.

Three high school students from Midtown High School are suffering from a strange illness that prevents them from speaking. Hospital examinations have revealed no abnormalities; their vocal cords are intact, their nervous system is undamaged, and all their indicators are within the normal range. However, they simply cannot produce any sound.

'

Fury's fingers paused on the paper and tapped it twice.

Midtown High School? Three high school students simultaneously lost their voices? And no cause could be found in the tests?

At this moment, footsteps were heard outside the door.

The footsteps were very light, but they still didn't escape Fury's ears.

He looked up and his gaze fell on the office doorway.

Level 9 Agent Phil Coulson walked in from outside.

He was wearing that unchanging dark suit, his hair was neatly combed, he held a folder in his hand, and his expression was serious with a hint of urgency.

Fury's face darkened.

"Knock before you come in."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of authority.

What if he's embezzling some kind of funding or subsidy? Wouldn't that be discovered?

Those application forms listed numerous "training equipment maintenance fees" and "special operations material losses fees," but only he knew their actual purpose.

Coulson paused for a moment, his steps faltering at the doorway, a look of helplessness appearing on his face.

"I saw the door wasn't closed..."

He explained, his voice tinged with innocence.

Fury stared at him for two seconds, a barely perceptible hint of helplessness flashing in his single eye.

"Alright, what is it?"

He closed the report on the table, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Coulson strode forward and handed the folder to Fury.

"Tony Stark has disappeared in the Middle East."

Fury's gaze sharpened instantly, and he sat bolt upright as if springy.

"What?"

His voice deepened, like a stone thrown into water.

"What happened?"

Coulson opened the folder, which contained several photos and a stack of printed reports.

"He was attacked on his way back to base after demonstrating the newly developed Jericho missile to the military."

His finger touched the photo.

"The three vehicles in the escort convoy were all destroyed. Six security personnel were killed and two were seriously injured. Tony Stark is missing."

Fury picked up the photos and looked at them one by one.

The charred wreckage of a car, shards of glass scattered all over the ground, a huge crater in the road, and corpses lying in pools of blood.

His expression grew increasingly somber, like the sky before a storm.

Are there any suspects?

"Ten Rings Gang".

Coulson's voice was calm, but every word carried weight.

"Based on the analysis of the bullets and explosive debris left at the scene, the source of the weapons is consistent with the past activities of the Ten Rings Gang."

"and..."

He paused.

"Intelligence indicates that the Ten Rings Gang has recently been acquiring large quantities of weapons from Stark Industries. We have reason to believe this is a premeditated kidnapping."

Fury put down the photo and remained silent for a long time.

His fingers tapped lightly on the table, once, twice, three times.

Then he raised his head, a cold glint flashing in his single eye.

"Activate all available resources and locate him."

His voice wasn't loud, but every word was like a nail driven into the air.

"I want to see him alive or dead."

Coulson nodded and turned to leave.

"besides."

Fury's voice came from behind.

"Let Natasha go; this matter cannot be delayed."

Coulson stopped and turned around.

"clear."

He strode out of the office.

Fury leaned back in his chair, his gaze falling on the photograph of Tony Stark on the table.

The young man in the photo is full of vigor, dressed in a suit and tie, with a cynical smile on his lips.

The head of Stark Industries, a source of pride for the American military-industrial complex.

Now, he's in the hands of the Ten Rings Gang.

Fury's brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

Columbia University Science Center.

The exhibition hall is huge, at least the size of two basketball courts.

The ceiling was high, with rows of fluorescent lights hanging from it, emitting a stark white light.

The walls around the room were covered with pictures and descriptions of various spiders: black widows, wolf spiders, jumping spiders, tarantulas, and other tropical species whose names I didn't know.

Each image was magnified dozens of times, revealing the spider's hairs, fangs, and compound eyes in minute detail, making it appear particularly ferocious under the light.

The glass display case contains a variety of spider specimens.

The larger ones are as big as a palm and covered in brown down.

The small ones are only the size of a grain of rice, and they are grayish-brown; you can't find them at all if you don't look closely.

And those brightly colored tropical spiders, red, yellow, blue, and green, looked as if they had been painted on with paint.

Of course, there are also all kinds of live spiders, crawling around in specially made glass boxes. Some are weaving webs, some are hunting, and some are lying there motionless, as if they are asleep.

The air was filled with the smell of formaldehyde, mixed with the scent of old wood and dust, making one feel a little dizzy.

The guide, a woman in her thirties, stood at the front of the line, talking animatedly, her voice echoing throughout the exhibition hall.

There are over 32,000 species of spiders in the world.

She used a laser pointer to draw circles on the pictures on the wall.

"They are found all over the world; except for Antarctica, you can find traces of them in almost every corner."

Peter walked beside Chen Yuan and Harry, but his attention was completely off the guide.

His gaze fell on a huge piece of equipment in the center of the exhibition hall. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly open, and his expression was as if he were looking at a mountain of gold.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with barely suppressed excitement.

"This is the most advanced electron microscope on the West Coast! Its resolution reaches 0.1 nanometers! I can't believe I can see it with my own eyes..."