Courtyard House: Initial Donation of 50 Million

The acrid smell of burning metal and the grating noise of metal scraping in the underground warehouse had not yet dissipated, but Obadiah Stanislav's ambition burned fiercely with the staggering first step of the Iron Monger prototype. He ignored Victor's desperate warnings about energy depletion and heat dissipation limits, his eyes fixed only on the nascent, primal power displayed by this steel behemoth, a power capable of crushing everything.

"Five minutes!" he growled into the communicator, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. "Tell everyone, in five minutes, I want to see it at least moving in a straight line! Even if it has to crawl, it has to crawl to the end of the warehouse!"

Inside the transparent fortress atop Stark Industries, the air was like solidified ice. Tony Stark stood before the remodeled holographic projection, his fingertips tracing the complex and intricate network of distributed energy nodes that Jarvis had just constructed. A pale blue light illuminated his slightly pale face, and the fine beads of sweat on his forehead glistened under the lamplight.

"Power down by twenty percent..." he muttered to himself, as if chewing on a bitter fruit. For a genius who pursues ultimate performance, voluntarily downgrading is tantamount to self-castration. But Wang Huanbo's eyes, which seemed to see through everything, and his cold maxim, "Battle is not an experiment," were like a needle, precisely piercing his proud balloon.

"Sir, the simulation of the new scheme is complete. The stability of the energy loop has increased by 375%, and the overload risk has been reduced to a negligible level. However, the theoretical maximum thrust has decreased by 19.7%, and the maximum speed has decreased by 22.3%." Jarvis's voice calmly reported the cold numbers.

Tony remained silent, his fingers unconsciously tapping the cold metal edge of the workbench. He could almost hear the heavy breathing of the Iron Monger, frantically expended by Obadiah, deep underground, each step pounding on his nerves. Compromise? Security? These words were practically nonexistent in his past vocabulary.

"Tony," Pepper Potts' voice broke the silence as she approached with a steaming cup of coffee and gently placed it beside him. "The board meeting has been moved up to thirty minutes. Obadiah... is coming on strong."

Tony snapped back to reality, a sharp glint in his eyes. His earlier hesitation was instantly replaced by a familiar emotion—the desire to fight. "It's ahead of schedule? Looks like our good uncle can't wait to send me to the gallows for a 'psychological evaluation'?" He picked up his coffee, took a sip, and the scalding liquid burned his throat, strangely clearing his chaotic thoughts. "Good, saves me from waiting for him to dawdle."

He put down his cup, his sharp tongue acting out as if by reflex: "Let me guess, did he also thoughtfully prepare a 'Tony Stark's List of Insanity'? Like shutting down the most profitable department at a press conference like a spoiled child? Or locking himself in his lab like a madman, trying to transform himself into a superhero from a pile of scrap metal?" A mocking smile played on his lips. "Oh, and by the way, there's definitely another item on the list: being completely fooled by a mysterious Easterner, even starting to doubt his own brilliant design?"

Pepper watched him switch to battle mode in an instant, feeling both helpless and heartbroken: "Tony, this isn't the time for jokes. Obadiah is very well prepared this time. He's won over several previously neutral directors, and that plutonium procurement record..."

“Plutonium?” Tony scoffed, interrupting Pepper. “What does he think it is? A pacemaker for his iron turtle? Or some ‘brilliant’ radioactive dust to add to the New York sky? What a ‘creative’ plan of destruction!” He stood up, stretching his stiff neck, making a slight clicking sound. “Let’s go, Pepper. Let’s meet this ‘caring’ uncle of his nephew and see what role he’s put me in his carefully prepared script—a madman, or a traitor?”

He strode towards the door, his steps firm, as if the struggle he had just endured had never happened. Only as he passed Wang Huanbo did he pause almost imperceptibly. Wang Huanbo remained standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the myriad lights of New York, silent as a mountain.

"Thanks." Tony's voice was low, almost drowned out by the footsteps, but clear enough. This time, there was less awkwardness and more weight.

Wang Huanbo did not turn around, but nodded almost imperceptibly.

Ethan stood in the corner of the lab, watching Tony's back straighten again, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes. The worry remained, but more than that, there was an indescribable sense of relief. The brilliant arms dealer who had struggled on the brink of death in the cave, filled with resentment, was now willingly donning the shackles of "responsibility" for a safer world, even if it meant binding his prized wings. This change shocked and...proudened Ethan more than any technological breakthrough.

The atmosphere around the boardroom table was as heavy as the calm before a storm. Obadiah Stanislav sat at the head of the table, his face bearing a perfectly balanced expression of worry and the "heartache" of an elder. Several directors he had courted exchanged glances, avoiding Tony's sharp gaze.

“Tony, my son,” Obadiah spoke first, his voice low and full of “concern,” “we are all relieved to see you back safely. But…” He paused, his worry deepening, “your decisions after your return, especially those concerning the weapons department… were far too sudden, far too… radical. This makes us wonder if your experience in Afghanistan has… affected your judgment?”

Tony pulled out a chair and sat down, his movements as casual as if he were in his own living room. He picked up a pen from the table, twirling it deftly between his fingers, the signature smirk never fading from his lips. "Influence? Obi, you mean I went from a bastard who only knew how to make money by manufacturing weapons to someone trying to stop more bastards from using my weapons to kill... well, another bastard? If that's the kind of 'influence,' then I admit it exists, and it's quite effective."

His sharp tongue was undisguised, directly piercing Obadiah's mask of hypocrisy. One of the directors who supported Obadiah couldn't help but speak up: "Mr. Stark, watch your words! We are seriously discussing the future of the company! Closing the weapons division means thousands of employees losing their jobs, it means we're giving up billions in market share! Is this a rational decision?"

"Rationality?" Tony stopped twirling his pen, looked up at the director, his eyes as cold as ice. "Using my Jericho missiles to destroy a village, watching innocent civilians wail in the flames, and then celebrating a stock price increase with blood-stained banknotes and champagne—is that what you call 'rationality'?" His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a penetrating power that instantly silenced the entire conference room.

"I was in the desert, watching with my own eyes how 'Stark Industries manufacturing,' meant to protect American soldiers, was used against me!" Tony's voice suddenly rose, filled with suppressed rage. "I watched a friend who sacrificed himself to save me fall before my eyes! Tell me, what do you want with this 'market share' built on blood and lies? To pave your golden road to hell?"

His words struck like a hammer blow, hitting everyone's hearts hard. Pepper sat beside him, watching his shoulders tremble slightly with emotion, watching the deep, cavernous pain and anger hidden in his eyes, and her heart felt like it was being squeezed. She quietly reached out and gently grasped Tony's cold fingers under the table.

Tony's fingers trembled slightly, but he didn't pull away. The warmth and firmness from Pepper's fingertips, like a weak yet resilient electric current, instantly soothed the surging anger in his chest. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, but his gaze remained sharp as a knife, sweeping over everyone present.

"As for the laid-off employees," Tony's voice regained its usual calm, yet carried an undeniable decisiveness, "Stark Industries will not abandon anyone. Energy, clean technology research, new materials applications... we have directions that are more meaningful and more profitable than manufacturing weapons! The pain of transformation is inevitable, but rather than living a life of decadence on a mountain of gold stained with blood, I would rather choose a difficult but clean path!"

He paused, his gaze finally settling on Obadiah's face, slightly contorted with suppressed anger. His sharp tongue returned: "Of course, if anyone finds this path too 'clean,' unsuitable for their filthy palate, or feels my 'mental condition' isn't sufficient to lead the company to new heights..." He shrugged, revealing an almost roguish smile, "You're welcome to sell your shares anytime. I guarantee I'll buy them all back at a percentage point above market value. After all, cleaning house always costs money, doesn't it?"

"You!" Obadiah slammed his hand on the table, his feigned benevolence vanishing, replaced by a palpable killing intent in his eyes. His meticulously planned boardroom attack crumbled instantly before Tony's sharp, venomous tongue and unwavering stance, like waves crashing against a reef. He stared intently at Tony, his chest heaving, like a wild beast poised to pounce and tear its prey apart.

"The meeting is adjourned!" Tony stood up, not even glancing at Obadiah, and led Pepper by the hand straight to the door. "Jarvis, see them out. Also, inform all department heads that I need to see the detailed plans for the new departments by 9:00 AM tomorrow."

The conference room door closed silently behind Tony, leaving behind a deathly silence and Obadiah's face, ashen with rage. His hands, hidden under the table, clenched into fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. Tony! Tony Stark! That arrogant brat! He not only ruined his perfect plan to seize the company, but also ripped apart his carefully maintained facade of a "benevolent elder" in front of everyone!

"Mr. Stanislav..." a director began cautiously.

"Get out!" Obadiah spat out the word through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse and filled with a destructive madness. He stood up abruptly, his massive body trembling slightly with rage. He no longer looked at anyone and, like a wounded Tyrannosaurus Rex, stormed out of the conference room.

Back in his luxurious yet cold office, Obadiah swept the expensive ornaments off the table, sending them shattering with a jarring sound. He panted heavily as he dialed the encrypted line to the underground warehouse.

"Victor!" he roared into the microphone, his voice distorted with extreme rage. "I don't care what methods you use! Get that Iron Monger out of here! Now! Immediately! Right now! I want it in Tony's lab! I want to grind him! And that damned Asian! Along with all their ridiculous toys! To dust!"

In the top-floor laboratory, the tense atmosphere did not ease despite the board's victory. Tony sat at his workbench, staring at the data on the new armor that Jarvis had simulated on the screen, his brow furrowed. The distributed network ensured security, but the performance loss felt like a thorn in his side.

Pepper quietly walked up behind him, placing her hands on his tense shoulders and kneading them with just the right amount of pressure. "You did very well, Tony," she said, her voice gentle yet firm. "At the board meeting."

Tony stiffened slightly, then relaxed, leaning back in his chair and feeling the comfort of those soft hands. "Is it alright?" he chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I just cursed them all out. Obi's probably plotting how to tear me to pieces right now."

"But he failed." Pepper leaned down, her chin gently resting on Tony's head, her warm breath brushing against his hair. "You stood by your choice and protected what you wanted to protect. That's what matters most."

Her approach, the trust and support in her words, were like a warm current, quietly melting the icy shards in Tony's heart caused by compromise. He took Pepper's hand, which was resting on his shoulder, and gently stroked the back of her hand.

"Pepper..." he whispered, his voice slightly hoarse, "In the cave... I thought I was going to die. What kept me alive, besides Ethan... was you." He turned around and looked up at Pepper's face, which was so close to his. Her eyes, which were always full of wisdom and resilience, now clearly reflected his image, filled with tenderness and heartache.

"I promised Ethan I'd live a meaningful life." Tony's voice was soft, yet carried immense weight. "Shutting down the Armaments Department is just the beginning. But this path... is difficult. Obi won't give up, the board is watching closely, and Rhodes is under immense pressure from the military..." He paused, a rare hint of vulnerability flashing in his eyes. "I... I don't know if I can..."

"You can," Pepper interrupted him, her tone resolute. She cupped Tony's face, forcing him to look directly into her eyes. "Tony Stark, you're the smartest, the most stubborn, and also the most... bastard I've ever met." As she spoke, she couldn't help but laugh, tears welling in her eyes. "But it's precisely because of this that you chose to change things at a critical moment, that you persisted on your path when everyone else was against you. I believe in you, not because you're Iron Man, but because you're Tony Stark. The mad genius who built a reactor out of a pile of scrap metal in a cave and saved his own life."

Her words were like a ray of light, piercing through the last vestige of gloom in Tony's heart. Looking at the tears glistening in Pepper's eyes and her unwavering trust, his heart felt as if it had been struck a heavy blow, a bittersweet, burning sensation. All words seemed pale and powerless at that moment. He abruptly stood up, pulled Pepper tightly into his arms, and lowered his head to kiss her lips.

This kiss was no longer the one at the press conference, one that carried a sense of announcement and playfulness. It was passionate, deep, filled with the relief of surviving a catastrophe, the uncertainty of the future, and the resolute commitment of giving each other their hearts. Tony's arms tightened, as if he wanted to meld Pepper into his body. Pepper responded passionately, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingertips running through his thick hair.

In the laboratory, time seemed to stand still. Only the rapid beating of their hearts and the mingling of their breaths echoed. The holographic projection's light flowed silently, illuminating the lovers who were tightly embracing in the eye of the storm.

Ethan stood at the lab door, intending to remind Tony it was time to rest, but seeing this scene, he silently stopped. A genuine smile appeared on his face, the kind of relief one feels seeing lost children finally find their harbor. He quietly stepped back, leaving the space to them.

Wang Huanbo remained standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, seemingly oblivious to the enchanting scene behind him. His gaze pierced through the city's neon lights, landing in a certain direction, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. In the air, an extremely faint yet destructive energy fluctuation emanated from the depths of the city's underground, like the breath of a sleeping beast before awakening.