Courtyard House: Initial Donation of 50 Million

Stark Estate, outdoor training lawn.

The clear, bright autumn sunlight dispelled the morning chill and bathed the entire lawn in lush green light.

In the center of the empty arena, Tony Stark shed his usual flashy casual suit and put on a light black quick-drying training outfit. He shed all his arrogance and flamboyance, and his expression was more serious and composed than ever before.

Before him, Wang Huanbo stood tall and straight, as still as a pine tree. He had no extraordinary aura about him, but was very ordinary. Yet he exuded a profound and steady aura, as if he were rooted in the earth and as firm as a rock.

After finalizing the agreement on the exchange of skills and the teaching of martial arts, Wang Huanbo did not delay at all and immediately began teaching.

"The foundation of Eastern martial arts lies not in fancy moves or brute force, but in breathing exercises to calm the mind, strengthen the body and nourish the spirit."

Wang Huanbo's voice was calm and clear, reaching Tony's ears: "Your Western martial arts emphasize explosiveness, fighting, and head-on collisions, relying on physical talent and muscle strength. They are more forceful than sustained. Eastern martial arts, on the other hand, emphasize using stillness to control movement, using softness to overcome hardness, harmonizing the body's Qi and blood, tempering muscles and bones, cultivating a righteous spirit, and gathering essence and spirit."

As soon as he finished speaking, Wang Huanbo slowly raised his hands, lowered his shoulders, dropped his elbows, and bent his knees. He performed a set of the most basic horse stance exercises smoothly and steadily, his body as stable as Mount Tai, his feet firmly planted on the grass, as if he were one with the earth.

The seemingly simple posture contains the essence of martial arts accumulated over thousands of years. Every muscle and every tendon is in the most reasonable and balanced state of exertion, without any redundancy or flaw.

"First, practice standing meditation to stabilize your foundation, regulate your breathing, and calm your mind."

Wang Huanbo patiently demonstrated, breaking down every detail of the movements and correcting common mistakes in power generation. "To learn martial arts, you must first temper your mind. If you are impatient, competitive, and prone to impulsiveness, stance training is the way to temper your impetuosity and calm your mind."

Tony meticulously imitated the posture. This super genius, who was always arrogant and never humbled himself to learn, had now put aside all his pride and arrogance.

He had personally witnessed Wang Huanbo, without any armor or technology, effortlessly crush the fully armed elite bandits of the Ten Commandments Gang with only his martial arts skills. That kind of physical strength, agility, and precise power that transcended modern combat knowledge had already left a deep impression on him, filling him with immense awe and ultimate longing.

As a top-notch scientific genius, Tony's learning and comprehension abilities far surpass those of ordinary people.

In a short while, he found the right point to exert force, adjusted his posture, firmly planted his feet in a horse stance, cleared his mind of distractions, and followed the ancient breathing rhythm taught by Wang Huanbo to breathe evenly and regulate his blood and qi.

At first, Tony only felt that the posture was boring and stiff, but after persisting for a while, he clearly noticed a wonderful change.

The restless mind gradually calmed down, and the physical and mental fatigue caused by research, anxiety, and tension slowly dissipated. A warm current flowed through my limbs and bones, my muscles and bones relaxed, my blood and qi flowed smoothly, and my overall mental state was more fulfilling than ever before.

"Amazing! Absolutely amazing!"

Tony was shocked and couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice.

He had studied human biomechanics, muscle structure, and physical limits, and was proficient in all modern combat systems, yet he had never seen such a bizarre and highly effective method of strengthening the body. Without relying on equipment or high-intensity weight training, it could regulate the mind and body and temper the physique simply through posture and breathing, completely overturning his decades of understanding.

"Stay calm and focus." Wang Huanbo stood by and offered timely guidance. "Only by building a solid foundation can you truly master the subsequent techniques of punches, kicks, body movements, defense, and power generation."

He taught Tony step by step, from basic stance training and breathing techniques to simple self-defense punches and kicks, dodging techniques, and force-dissipating skills.

Tony became completely absorbed in learning, immersing himself in the wondrous world of Eastern martial arts, abandoning his former restlessness and displaying the focus and perseverance of a genius.

……

Meanwhile, in a simply furnished apartment in Brooklyn, New York.

The morning light streamed into the room through the blinds, and Steve Rogers had already finished his first round of morning exercise. He was wearing a faded cotton T-shirt and work pants, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and his posture remained as upright as a pine tree, but there was always a lingering sense of bewilderment and detachment in his eyes.

Some time has passed since he awoke from the frozen Arctic Ocean. S.H.I.E.L.D. arranged this apartment near the old neighborhood for him, without disturbing him too much, only leaving his contact information, so that he could slowly recover from his seventy-year slumber and try to integrate into this completely unfamiliar new era.

His daily routine was still rooted in the habits of a soldier from the 1940s. He would get up before dawn and begin an hour of hand-to-hand combat training. Push-ups, pull-ups, basic fighting moves—his movements were precise and rigid, muscle memory etched into his bones. He had cleared a space in the small living room of his apartment, the wooden floor worn with shallow marks from his shoes. Only the sound of his punches and kicks allowed him to briefly regain that familiar sense of control.

After training, he would often stare blankly at the appliances on the kitchen counter for a while.

Smart refrigerators, microwave ovens, fully automatic coffee machines, built-in dishwashers… These metal appliances with their complex buttons always left him at a loss. It took him three whole days to learn how to toast bread without burning it using a toaster, and he spent an entire afternoon studying the thick instruction manual for a mobile phone before he could barely make or receive calls and unlock the screen. When his fingertips touched the smooth glass screen, it always felt unreal—seventy years ago, people were still using hand-cranked telephones, and transoceanic letters could take half a month to arrive; now, with just a tap, he could talk to someone on the other side of the world in real time.

The tablet computer sent by S.H.I.E.L.D. was filled with meticulously organized materials, ranging from the post-World War II world order to the beginning and end of the Cold War, the technological revolution, and changes in social systems—a vast and categorized collection. Every day, he would sit on the old wooden chair by the window, flipping through the pages one by one, like a student just starting school, earnestly and clumsily filling in the seventy-year gaps in his knowledge.

Seeing the Allied victory, the reconstruction of Europe, the landing of humans on the moon, and the birth of the internet, he would nod slightly, a look of satisfaction in his eyes; seeing the frequent local wars, the escalating arms race, and the endless regional conflicts, he would fall silent for a long time, his fingers tightening slightly. The peace that he and his comrades fought so hard for ultimately did not completely come to the world; the world continued its journey through turmoil in a different way.

In the afternoon, he would go for a walk, strolling slowly along the streets of Brooklyn.

The familiar place names are still there, but the buildings on both sides of the street have long since changed. The former grocery stores have become chain supermarkets, the auto repair shops have been replaced by digital stores, and the girls on the roadside are wearing neat short skirts, while the young men are walking by with headphones on. Everyone is holding that glowing "little glass" in their hands, walking quickly with their heads down, and rarely talking to each other.

He would pause in front of an old-fashioned newsstand, looking at the beautifully printed magazines and newspapers, buying a daily newspaper for a dollar and reading it slowly by the roadside; he would study the vending machine on the street for half a minute before fumbling to insert coins to buy a bottle of mineral water; he would stop when passing the Veterans Memorial, stand quietly for a long time, and raise his hand to give a standard military salute. Many names were engraved on the monument, some were unit numbers he had heard of, and some were wars completely unfamiliar to him. The years had piled up on the stone, so heavy that it was hard to breathe.

He also visited the alleyways he used to stroll through with Bucky, and the old recruitment office where he had repeatedly applied to join the army. It had long since become a chain coffee shop, with exquisite desserts displayed in the glass windows, and young people sitting inside chatting and laughing. No one knew that decades ago, a skinny Brooklyn boy stood there time and time again, stubbornly wanting to go to the battlefield.

Nothing could be more poignant than this: things change, people change.

In the evenings, he would go to the nearby community supermarket to buy groceries and learn to cook for himself. He still retained his wartime frugal habits, always calculating the prices in his mind before buying anything. Looking at the dazzling array of food and unfamiliar seasonings on the shelves, he would often stand in front of the shelves for a long time, hesitating. When the cashier scanned the payment, he would awkwardly take out his leather wallet and pay with cash, looking somewhat out of place among those around him who were used to swiping cards and scanning QR codes for payment.

Back in his apartment, after a quick dinner, he would sit by the window and watch the lights of countless homes and the bustling traffic below.

Neon signs lit up one after another, traffic on the street turned into a river of light, and skyscrapers in the distance lit up in patches of light, making it seem like an unreal dream.

Seventy years is too long.

All the old friends have passed away, and the old appearance has been completely replaced by a new one.

He was like a person forgotten by time, carrying a heart full of memories of the 1940s, standing in the winds of the 21st century, lonely and bewildered.

But he never thought of falling into depravity.

His fingers gently brushed against the yellowed old photograph on the bedside table—a picture of him and Bucky when they were young, the two young men smiling with a mix of youthful awkwardness and exuberance. The confusion in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a familiar, resolute light.

Now that we've survived and arrived in this era, we must move forward with determination.

The world he protected has become what it is today, however unfamiliar and lonely it may be. This is the peace that he and countless comrades risked their lives to win.

He will gradually adapt and learn to live here.

One day, he will find his place in this new era.

……

While everyone was enjoying peace and quiet at Stark Manor and focusing on their spiritual practice, storms were brewing outside, closing in step by step.

The U.S. Capitol and military command centers have been brightly lit and tense for days.

Since the news of Tony Stark developing the Iron Man suit and mastering the core technology of the Arc Reactor spread, the entire U.S. military and the top echelons of Congress have been completely engulfed in fanaticism and greed.

Controllable clean energy, revolutionary individual combat armor, and world-leading military technology—each of these is enough to change the world order and seize global military hegemony.

In the eyes of many politicians and military leaders, such incredible technology must not be controlled by private individuals. It must be brought under state control and monopolized by the military, becoming the ultimate trump card for the United States to consolidate its hegemony.

Previously, due to Tony's Stark Industries influence, social status, and fear of the armor's formidable combat power, the high-ranking officials had remained patient and waited.

However, as the Mark III armor was completed and its performance was fully realized, the greed of the military and Congress could no longer be suppressed.

The military forces, led by General Ross, and a group of veteran politicians from the United Nations reached a unified consensus and began to exert strong pressure on Tony.

That afternoon, several military jeeps and congressional vehicles drove into the Stark Estate's exclusive neighborhood, where a large number of military officers and congressional envoys came to meet with the group.

The atmosphere in the manor's reception hall was heavy and oppressive.

General Ross, dressed in his officer's uniform, sat opposite Tony, his face stern and his presence imposing. His sharp gaze was fixed on Tony, who had just finished his martial arts training and was still slightly out of breath.

"Mr. Stark."

General Ross spoke firmly and bluntly, stating, "On behalf of the U.S. military and Congress, I am formally informing you that the Ironclad Armor and the Arc Reactor are strategic defense weapons and core military technologies, concerning national security and global military deployment. Private ownership and research and development are prohibited."

"Now, we require you to immediately hand over the complete Mark III battle suit, reactor core blueprints, research and development data, and all technical documents. The military will subsequently form a special team to take over the research, development, production, and iteration work. You will cooperate fully with the military's control throughout the process and are strictly prohibited from developing or modifying the battle suit without authorization!"

The congressional envoy beside him then took out a pre-prepared control agreement and slammed it heavily on the table.

"This is a congressional control bill and technology transfer agreement, Mr. Stark. Sign it and it will be in effect. From this day forward, the Iron Man armor technology belongs to the nation. You can serve as an advisor, but you must unconditionally obey military orders and national control!"

The group of military personnel and politicians, their eyes gleaming with condescending coercion and unyielding domineering attitude, clearly had Tony cornered.

In their view, for private individuals to confront the state apparatus is tantamount to throwing an egg against a rock.

Looking at the group of greedy, hypocritical, and ugly politicians and military leaders in front of him, Tony's previously calmed emotions instantly flared up with anger.

He slowly straightened up, his face losing all its gentleness, replaced by his signature arrogance, defiance, and sharpness, his eyes as sharp as knives, staring directly at everyone without backing down.

"Transfer to higher authorities? Or place under control?"

Tony scoffed, his tone laced with extreme sarcasm and defiance. "Why should I hand over the technology and armor I painstakingly developed and forged under dire circumstances to you?"

"I developed the Arc Reactor to break free from constraints and protect myself; I forged the Iron Man armor to defend against danger and safeguard peace. From beginning to end, it is all my personal research achievement, and has absolutely nothing to do with the military or Congress!"

"You've always been complacent and idle, never contributing a single penny to this technology. Now that you see it's worth hundreds of billions and enough to control a dominant position, you want to seize it out of thin air and forcibly take over?"

Tony stepped forward, exuding an aura of authority, his voice firm and resolute: "I'm telling you, it's impossible!"

"My technology, my armor, my research achievements—they will forever belong to me, Tony Stark! You think you can take them or control them? Dream on!"

The entire venue fell into a deathly silence.

No one expected that Tony would dare to confront the military and Congress so directly, showing no mercy and tearing off all pretense of civility.

General Ross's face instantly darkened, his brow furrowed, and his tone carried a blatant threat: "Mr. Stark, I advise you to face reality. Your refusal to cooperate is tantamount to opposing the nation and its defense and security system! Private control of strategic military weapons is a consequence you cannot afford!"

"Consequences?" Tony's eyes grew even colder. "Our Stark family has dominated America for decades, never fearing any threat or coercion. You want to label me, suppress me, or plunder my achievements? Bring it on!"

"But let me make this clear: you won't be taking a single piece of the Iron Man armor or the reactor technology, not even a single blueprint!"

A firm refusal, refusing to budge an inch.

The talks have reached a complete deadlock, marking the first time the military and Congress's coercive measures have failed.

General Ross, his face ashen, stared intently at Tony, finally gritting his teeth and rising to his feet: "Very well! Stark, you will pay the price for your recklessness today! Let's go!"

A group of military and congressional personnel stormed out, leaving the air thick with the smell of gunpowder.

The reception hall returned to silence, but undercurrents were stirring.

Tony watched the group's departing figures, his arrogance slowly fading, a hint of seriousness flashing in his eyes.

He knew that this firm refusal to confront them had thoroughly angered the military and Congress, and that subsequent suppression, blockades, and harassment would inevitably follow.

Public opinion campaigning, industrial suppression, technological blockade, legal harassment, and covert targeting—these politicians never hesitate to use any means to pursue their interests.

But he never regretted it in the slightest.

Technology is his life's work, his confidence, and his reliance for self-protection and protecting those around him in the future. It must not fall into the hands of these ambitious people and become a tool for them to fight for supremacy and profit.

After a brief pause, a sharp glint flashed in Tony's eyes. His fingertips tapped unconsciously on the table as a counterattack plan unfolded in his mind, each step precise and ruthless, displaying Stark's sharpness and cunning.

Since the other party is pressing forward step by step and attempting to forcibly plunder, he will lay out a five-layered net, take the initiative to fight back, and tear apart this hypocritical set of rules!

"Trying to steal my stuff, to control my technology?" Tony muttered to himself, his eyes cold and resolute. "Then I'll show you what a true technological barrier is, what it means to be powerless!"

Technological blockade is the first impenetrable barrier. Tonight, he will transfer all top-secret technologies, including the core algorithm of the Arc Reactor, the armor's neural connection system, and micro-arc pulse technology, to a physically disconnected private core server. Only his own retinal, fingerprint, and brainwave triple biometric verification can unlock it. Any external force attempting to crack it will trigger a self-destruct program at the underlying level, leaving not even a single line of complete core code. In the publicly available R&D database, he will pre-install three sets of cut-down versions of older model blueprints, deliberately leaving several fatal design flaws in power transmission and armor alloy ratios. Even if the military bribes an insider and goes to great lengths to steal them, what they will build will only be a pile of overloaded, easily broken scrap metal. At the same time, he will accelerate the development and iteration of the next generation of armor, integrating the power generation and deceleration logic he just learned from Eastern martial arts into the armor's power system, further reducing energy consumption and increasing instantaneous burst power. Before long, he will create a whole generation of technological superiority, leaving the military forever trailing behind.

Commercial capital is the second heavy-handed weapon. He will immediately put a complete halt to all conventional military projects under Stark Industries that cooperate with the military, freezing all supporting supply chains and delivery contracts, thus cutting off the Pentagon's lifeline. Those veteran politicians who are most vocal in Congress are all backed by military-industrial conglomerates and financial forces. He will use the Stark family's century-old network and massive capital accumulated on Wall Street to precisely short-sell their core industries, cutting off their source of profit. He will also accelerate the implementation of the civilian Arc Reactor project, open up secondary clean energy technology, and attract energy giants and technology capital from across the United States and even the world to participate, deeply binding his technology and the interests of the entire business community. At that time, if Congress wants to touch him again, it will have to consider whether it can withstand the collective backlash from the entire capital circle.

Public opinion and the law form the third layer of defense. He will hold a nationally televised press conference, openly revealing the existence of the steel armor, but never mentioning the word "weapon," defining it only as a "personal safety device to maintain one's own life" and "humanitarian aid equipment." He will publicly expose the military and politicians' ambitions to monopolize technology, expand armaments, and reap global profits, twisting the narrative of "private versus state" into a script of "capitalist opportunists plundering civilian scientific research achievements," thus garnering widespread support from anti-war citizens and the scientific community. At the same time, his top-notch legal team will be mobilized, wielding patent law, private property protection bills, and medical device-related regulations to wage a protracted battle with Congress—the miniature reactor in his chest is a medical device to sustain his life, and the armor is merely an accompanying exoskeleton assistive device, legally not subject to the "nationalization of strategic weapons" clause, enough to keep those politicians on their toes.

In addition, he had two more hidden backup plans.

The fourth layer is offshore operations. He will immediately activate secret overseas R&D bases, transferring core technology data and precision processing equipment in batches. Even if the Stark Industries headquarters in the home country is seized and pressured, his R&D pace will not be halted in the slightest. Core assets and patents will be gradually transferred to offshore companies, cutting off any possibility of official intervention at the source of ownership.

The fifth layer is a safety net of force. The manor's intelligent defense system and the armor's all-area alert program are fully activated, with laser barriers, electromagnetic pulses, and non-lethal weapons deployed layer upon layer. Anyone who wants to play dirty tricks, send people to secretly steal or even rob, should be prepared to never return if they dare to cross the line.

The five-layered counterattack network, nested within each other, employs technological blockade, capital pressure, public opinion campaigning, legal maneuvering, and a backup plan, combining offense and defense in a tightly linked manner, leaving the military and Congress with absolutely no opportunity to exploit.

Wang Huanbo stood quietly to the side, taking in the entire conflict with a calm expression, understanding the situation perfectly.

The final storyline of the Marvel universe has been fully unfolded.

The martial arts training progressed steadily, Tony fulfilled his commitment to technology exchange, and the conflict between the military and Tony intensified completely.

Once everything has settled down, the martial arts training is over, Tony has finalized his nanotech armor concept, and all the technological gains have been acquired, he can successfully conclude this interdimensional training and immediately set off to return to the original world of the courtyard house!