Courtyard House: Initial Donation of 50 Million

"How are you feeling, sir?" Jarvis asked.

"It feels..." Tony's voice came through the armor's speakers, carrying a metallic hum and barely suppressed excitement, "...fantastic! Jarvis, initiate the ground walking test!"

Heavy metallic footsteps echoed in the laboratory. Tony carefully controlled the armor, taking his first step, then his second… His movements went from clumsy to fluid; he quickly adapted to this powerful new body.

"Flight system self-check!" Tony ordered.

"Thrust system normal, attitude control system normal, energy supply stable. Flight system ready."

"Great!" Tony's voice was full of anticipation. "Open the sunroof! Let's go for a drive!"

The massive alloy skylight atop the laboratory slowly slid open, revealing the dazzling Los Angeles night sky. The thrusters beneath Tony's feet and on his back instantly spewed forth brilliant streams of blue plasma.

"start up!"

boom!

The golden-red figure shot into the night sky like an arrow, leaving a dazzling trail of light.

High in the sky, a biting wind howled past. Tony looked down at the city lights that shone like a galaxy, feeling an unprecedented sense of freedom and power. He tried various rolls and dives, and the Mark II responded swiftly and effortlessly.

"Jarvis, report your status!"

"Altitude 13,000 meters, speed Mach 1.8, external temperature -45 degrees Celsius. Outer shell temperature normal, thrusters working normally, de-icing system operating well, no icing detected."

"Haha! It worked!" Tony excitedly did a somersault in the air. "Wang Huanbo's de-icing suggestion really worked! Jarvis, climb a little higher! Try the limit!"

The golden-red armor accelerated once more, soaring higher into the night sky.

However, Tony's night flight quickly attracted the attention of those on the ground. Two F-22 Raptor fighter jets on night patrol were startled by the unidentified high-speed flying object on their radar.

"Command Center, Eagle One reporting! Unidentified high-speed flying object spotted, altitude 15,000 meters, speed Mach 2 or higher! Circling over Los Angeles! Requesting instructions!"

"Eagle One, target confirmed! Attempt visual identification! Maintain safe distance!"

"Roger!... God! What's that? A... golden robot? It's flying! Repeat, target is a humanoid flying vehicle! Extremely fast! Approaching!"

Tony's armored radar also sounded an alarm. "Sir, two F-22 fighter jets have been detected approaching, and they have issued a warning signal."

"F-22?" Tony frowned beneath his mask. "Tell them I'm Tony Stark! I'm testing my new invention!"

"They demand an immediate landing for inspection, or they will take coercive measures. Sir, they have activated their fire control radar lock."

"Damn it!" Tony cursed under his breath. He didn't want to be shot down by his own country's air force missiles. He immediately changed direction, trying to get away.

"Eagle One, target attempting to escape! Requesting authorization to fire!"

"Command center, target is highly threatening! Requesting assistance..."

At this critical moment, a familiar voice suddenly pierced Tony's communication channel, filled with anxiety and disbelief: "Tony?! Is that you?! What the hell are you doing?! Stop it! It's Rhodes!"

"Rhodes!" Tony cried, grasping at a straw. "Thank God! Tell them it's me! Tony Stark! I'm testing my new toy!"

"My God...you...you really created a flying tin man?!" Rhodes' voice was filled with shock, but then turned serious. "Listen, Tony, immediately descend, shut down all thrusters, and hover in place! I'll explain to control right away! Don't move again! They really will open fire!"

Thanks to Colonel Rhodes's urgent intervention, an aerial crisis was finally averted. Tony obediently followed instructions and, under Rhodes's "escort," landed on a nearby, secluded military airfield runway. When he removed his mask, revealing a tired yet unusually excited face, Rhodes, who had rushed over, stared at the futuristic gold and red armor before him, speechless for a long time.

"Tony... what... what is this?" Rhodey walked around the armor twice, his eyes wide like saucers.

"Mark II, my new invention." Tony patted the cold breastplate, making a dull thud. "How about it, cool, right?"

"Cool? You almost got shot down thinking you were an alien invader!" Rhodes was both angry and amused. "Do you know how dangerous that was? And that thing on your chest..."

"It saved my life, Rhodes," Tony interrupted, his tone becoming serious. "And it's not just my lifeline. It represents a whole new possibility."

Rhode looked into the gleam in Tony's eyes—a fire he'd never seen before in his friend's eyes, a fire brimming with a sense of responsibility and a certain mission. He finally sighed and patted Tony on the shoulder forcefully. "Alright, genius. Next time you're testing one of these 'new toys,' give me a heads-up! I don't want to get another emergency call from the air force base saying some tin man is taunting our Raptors in the sky!"

Tony grinned: "Don't worry, I'll fly even higher next time."

Although the high-altitude test was perilous, it proved the Mark II's superior performance. Tony's confidence soared to unprecedented heights. He returned to his Malibu villa and, without resting, immediately threw himself into the next step of the plan—combat testing.

Target: Afghanistan, the Ten Commandments' stronghold.

"Jarvis, sift through all the intelligence Rhodes provided regarding Ten Commandments strongholds in Afghanistan! Identify the ones with the largest weapons stockpiles and the greatest threat to civilians!" Tony ordered while quickly checking the armor's parameters. The mechanical arm once again donned the gold and red battle armor for him.

"Sir, high-risk targets have been marked. One of them is located in a valley in Kandahar province, where intelligence indicates that it stores a large number of Stark Industries' 'Jellicoe' missiles and 'Ex-Wife' miniature missiles, and is heavily guarded."

"That's it!" Tony's mask fell away, his voice laced with chilling murderous intent. "And while you're at it, clean up every last piece of the trash Obadiah sold!"

The golden-red steel warriors soared into the sky once more, their target the distant Middle East.

The ensuing action was swift as lightning and decisive as thunder. Utilizing the Mark II's powerful firepower, superior mobility, and Jarvis's precise guidance, Tony descended like a god, repeatedly raiding the Ten Commandments' strongholds. Precision-guided miniature missiles destroyed hordes of Jericho missiles, while palm-mounted cannons and shoulder-mounted machine guns relentlessly mowed down the resisting terrorists. He not only destroyed weapons but also rescued imprisoned civilians and isolated American soldiers.

"Get out of here!" Tony's voice boomed through the armored speaker, shouting at the trembling civilians. He raised his hand and fired a shot, destroying the bunker of a nearby militant.

A rescued U.S. soldier, his hands trembling, held up his phone and recorded the image of a golden-red steel warrior soaring into the air amidst the smoke, its palm cannons unleashing dazzling beams of energy. The video was quickly uploaded to the internet.

Title: "Steel Angels? Mysterious Gold and Red Warriors Appear on the Afghan Battlefield!"

The video spread like wildfire. The online world was in an uproar.

"Holy Sh*t! What's that? A new weapon from the military?"

"He saved those people! He's fighting terrorists!"

"Look at his movements! It's like a science fiction movie!"

"Iron Man! He must be Iron Man!"

The name "Iron Man" spread like wildfire and instantly became known around the world.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, in Obadiah Stanislav's office on the top floor of Stark Industries headquarters, the atmosphere had plummeted to freezing point.

On the enormous screen, a video clip was playing showing Tony Stark wreaking havoc in Afghanistan, earning him the title of "Iron Man" from netizens. Obadiah, his obese body sunk into a large leather seat, his face so dark it seemed to drip water. From the encrypted satellite phone in front of him came a furious, heavily accented roar:

"Stanny! Look at the mess your damn 'nephew' has made! He destroyed three of our most important outposts! Lost hundreds of millions of dollars worth of equipment! My men suffered heavy casualties! Is this your promise of 'holding back'?!"

Obadiah, barely suppressing his anger, said, "Lazar! Calm down! Tony's actions completely surprised me! I didn't expect him to..."

"I don't care what you thought!" Lazar, the leader of the Ten Commandments gang, rudely interrupted him. "You promised to take care of him! Now, he's wearing that damn iron suit and has become a hero all over the world! And we've become his stepping stones to fame! Stanislav, my patience is running out!"

Obadiah's temples throbbed with veins: "I'm working on it! My 'Iron Monger' plan..."

"Where's your Iron Monger?!" Lazar's voice was full of sarcasm and threat. "All I see is Tony's Iron Man swaggering around! Listen, Stanislav, if I don't see Tony Stark dead in three days, or your Iron Monger showing up on the battlefield and taking him down... then I guarantee that all your transactions with us, including the weapons lists you provided, the flow of funds, and even your ambitious plans for the Iron Monger... will be on the front page of the New York Times! And on the desk of the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.! Guess how they'll treat a traitorous arms dealer?"

"You're threatening me?!" Obadiah suddenly stood up and slammed his fist heavily on the table with a loud bang.

"This isn't a threat, Stanislav," Lazar's voice was icy cold. "This is an ultimatum. Three days. Either Tony dies, or... we all go down together!"

The call was abruptly ended, leaving only the jarring busy tone.

Obadiah stood rooted to the spot, his chest heaving violently, his obese face contorted with muscles, and his eyes burning with a frenzied rage and murderous intent. He stared intently at the golden-red figure on the screen, as if he wanted to tear it apart with his gaze.

"Tony...Tony!" he growled through gritted teeth, his voice like that of a wounded beast, "And that damned Wang Huanbo...you're all the ones who forced me into this!"

He slammed down the communicator on the table: "Lab! How's the 'Iron Monger' prototype coming along?! I don't care what methods you use! Twenty-four hours! I want to see it moving! Otherwise, you're all fired!"

Just as Obadiah's rage was raging in his top-floor office, in the underground laboratory of the Malibu villa, Tony, who had just returned from his debut in Afghanistan, was confidently directing the robotic arm to remove the armor.

"Jarvis, pull up the combat data! Analyze the actual combat effectiveness of all weapon systems! Also, find all those 'Iron Man' videos that netizens gave me, pick a few of the coolest ones, edit them together, and I'm going to post them on my personal homepage!" Tony's voice was full of excitement and pride.

Wang Huanbo stood aside, watching Tony's childish behavior and shaking his head slightly. His gaze fell on the feet of the armor that had just been removed, where there was dry Afghan dust and a barely perceptible dark red mark.

"When you're carried away by success, you're most likely to expose your weaknesses," Wang Huanbo's calm voice rang out.

Tony paused, turned to look at him: "What do you mean? Jealous of my new title?"

"Titles are meaningless." Wang Huanbo walked to the armor, his finger tracing a shallow bullet wound on his ankle. "Your armor is still lacking in protection for your joints and energy transmission lines during high-intensity combat. In the battle just now, at least twice, the enemy's heavy firepower nearly pierced through your knee joint. Also, the peak power supply of the energy core fluctuates by 0.3 seconds during sustained high-intensity output. Although Jarvis adjusted it in time, against a stronger opponent, that 0.3 seconds would be a fatal flaw."

Tony's smile vanished. He carefully examined the areas Wang Huanbo had pointed out, then pulled up Jarvis's combat damage report, his expression turning serious. "...You're right. Jarvis, mark all weak points and activate the optimization plan! Also, reinforce my joint protection! The energy core's power supply stability also needs to be retested!"

Just then, the indicator light at the laboratory entrance lit up, and Jarvis's voice rang out: "Sir, Miss Potts has arrived with Agent Coulson, and they have entered the villa's living room."

"Agent Coulson?" Tony frowned. "S.H.I.E.L.D.? What are they doing here?"

Wang Huanbo's eyes flickered almost imperceptibly. He turned and walked towards the lab's rest area, picked up a bottle of water, and unscrewed it: "Maybe they're here to congratulate 'Iron Man' on his first victory?"

Tony snorted, took off his sweat-stained T-shirt, and put on a clean one: "Pepper brought him? Okay, let's see what tricks this agent is up to."

As Tony and Wang Huanbo stepped out of the elevator and into the villa's spacious and bright living room, Pepper Potts stood there somewhat awkwardly. Beside her stood a middle-aged man in a well-tailored dark suit and tie, with a gentle and polite smile. His hair was meticulously combed, and he held a black folder in his hand, exuding an air of professionalism and competence.

"Tony!" Pepper breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Tony, then glanced at Coulson beside her with some worry.

"Pepper." Tony nodded, his gaze landing directly on Coulson. "Agent Phil Coulson? I've heard so much about you. What, is S.H.I.E.L.D. interested in the decor of my living room?"

Coulson, a flawless professional smile on his face, stepped forward and extended his hand. "Mr. Stark, it's a pleasure to meet you. S.H.I.E.L.D. is paying close attention to your recent 'humanitarian operations' in Afghanistan. Your 'Iron Armor' is very impressive." His gaze shifted to Wang Huanbo behind Tony, his smile unchanged, but his eyes held a deeper meaning. "This must be Mr. Wang Huanbo? We seem to have seen a similar figure in some... historical files."

Wang Huanbo calmly met Coulson's gaze, offering no hand but nodding slightly: "Agent Coulson. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence network is indeed excellent."

Coulson withdrew his hand, showing no embarrassment, and still smiled amiably: "It's my duty. Especially when it involves certain special people and items that could potentially affect the global security landscape." He emphasized the word "items," then opened the black folder in his hand, revealing a yellowed photocopy of an old photograph bearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo.

The photo shows a broken glass tube with the blurry words next to it: "Core sample of SSS project lost (1945)".

Coulson's gaze fell on Wang Huanbo's face, his tone gentle yet carrying an undeniable probing: "Mr. Wang, do you know anything about the Allied secret program during World War II called 'Super Soldier,' and a crucial serum sample from it...?"