Chapter Twenty: Far From Over

For someone like Tony Stark, who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, the suffering of the world was likely just a topic for news reports and literary works, or perhaps a script used to showcase his altruism over tea and conversation. By handing out a few scraps, he could craft an image of compassion while securing a spot in the headlines.

Even though Tony Stark was different from most rich heirs, he was not entirely immune to such vanity. While he was considerably more approachable than the typical playboy, deep down, he lacked genuine empathy for the common person. Essentially, he remained an irresponsible rich kid; his accessibility was merely a superficial manifestation of his personality rather than a result of internal moral constraints.

It was only when he was captured by the Ten Rings and thrown into that Mesopotamian cave that Tony truly tasted the bitterness of human suffering. A thousand lessons and books could not compare to a single firsthand experience, a sentiment that could not be more accurate for Tony Stark. The cave lacked food and air conditioning; the environment was wretched, the Ten Rings members resorted to violence at the slightest provocation, and human life held no value.

This experience brought about more change in Tony Stark than all the wisdom he had gained in his first twenty-one years. Since Howard’s fatal car accident, this had been the most transformative event of his life.

For instance, at this very moment, a press conference was about to commence where Obadiah Stane would announce Tony’s grand return. Everything was under control; it was clearly a performance meant to stabilize Stark Industries' stock price. Meanwhile, Tony Stark had just woken up from a nightmare. In the dream, he had not developed the Mark I, nor the Arc Reactor, nor had he met that doctor who spoke eight languages. The Jericho missile had struck Manhattan, after which he was callously left by the Ten Rings in the desert to fend for himself, eventually turning into bleached bones that vanished in the vast sea of sand.

Fortunately, when he woke up, Tony Stark was simply lying in his soft bed. It was still eight in the morning, and his arm was still wrapped in a cast—a clear reminder of the effort it had taken to escape that primitive camp. Jarvis opened the blinds for him, and the light rising on the horizon finally dispelled Tony’s unease. He knew he was alive, living at the expense of others' lives.

"Tony, if you’re awake, remember to return my call. And don’t forget to pick up your Margherita pizza and cheeseburgers. The press conference is at ten o’clock, don’t be late."

Virginia "Pepper" Potts's message broadcasted through his villa. By now, Jarvis had already guided Tony’s food cart to him, carrying a large Margherita pizza and two cheeseburgers, along with two large cups of thick, green nutrient fluid.

Clearly, he couldn't finish it all, but pizza and burgers weren't the kind of food that required freshness. Tony Stark liked fast food; it was nutritionally balanced, calorie-dense, and satisfying, and most importantly, it only needed a quick zap in the microwave.

—

"Alright, class dismissed."

The students filed out one by one. Lynn tidied his teaching materials, planning to head home with Jessica. If his guess was correct, this press conference was the one where Tony Stark intended to shut down the weapons division of Stark Industries. From then on, the focus of Stark Industries would undergo a massive shift.

But regardless of the growing pains that would follow for Stark Industries, Lynn could not capitalize on them yet; he was still far from being a titan like them.

"Mr. Sidis, ready to head out?"

"Miss Ava?"

"I came to thank you for your advice. Well, I’ve felt much better these past two days, not nearly as timid. Many things have gone more smoothly than I imagined."

"Although I’m not entirely sure what you’re referring to, I’m happy for you."

"Anyway, thank you, Mr. Sidis."

Ava bowed slightly and left with her backpack. Lynn didn't know what good fortune she had encountered, but he could sense that the hesitation that had once clouded her spirit had vanished, replaced by a sense of responsibility deeply rooted within her.

Lynn didn't dwell on it. Today was the day Tony Stark would hold his somewhat reckless press conference. Many things in this world differed from his memories; perhaps there would be other changes to Tony’s event today. Since Lynn had no more classes, he decided to witness the press conference from the closest possible distance.

He started the engine of his old car and, half an hour later, amidst the traffic, finally arrived at the scene of the press conference—still in Manhattan, the ever-troubled Manhattan. Lynn naturally couldn't get inside, so he sat on a patch of grass in a nearby park, watching journalists stream in. Through the transparent glass, he could see Tony sitting below the podium with a Coke in his hand, his fractured arm still healing and gauze faintly visible on his face.

It looked even worse than in Lynn’s memory.

After a few minutes, the press conference began as scheduled. Aside from some minor discrepancies, it seemed much as Lynn had expected.

"Maybe I’m overthinking it?"

This world was naturally different from what he had imagined, but he didn't believe Tony would only have that one stroke of bad luck. Yet, looking at it now, Tony seemed safer than anticipated. The surrounding security guards, armed with guns, along with National Guard and Marine soldiers—not to mention the NYPD—meant there were four types of security personnel present. Who would dare attack Tony Stark at a time like this? At least, not right now. That was what most of the security staff on-site believed.

However, Lynn detected a lack of coordination. Thanks to his keen perception of energy, he sensed that some of the "civilians" present possessed an inexplicable life force. Some of them, who appeared no different from ordinary people, had life energy far exceeding that of a normal person, shining like stars in the night.

"Something’s wrong. These guys..."

Lynn realized that, without him noticing, he was surrounded by these anomalous individuals. *Are they here for me?!*

Part of them were indeed targeting Lynn, but most were rushing toward the press conference site. One of the "civilians" had already drawn a weapon from behind his back. Lynn frowned, and purple mist began to coil around him. A powerful surge of psionic energy erupted, knocking over the assassin attempting to attack him. Lynn saw the weapon in his hand: a katana.

A deep purple psionic wave burst forth again, forming a high wall that blocked the attacks directed at him. A flurry of shuriken hung suspended in the air against his psionic field, unable to advance an inch. The barrier shattered, and the shuriken were deflected back toward their masters. However, these well-trained killers were not easily struck by such simple projectiles. They caught the rebounding shuriken with their bare hands, and simultaneously, other weapons appeared in their hands: *tekko-kagi* (hand claws), chain blades, *tonfa*, and katanas. The arsenal was diverse.

The assassins revealed their true colors; their eyes glowed with an ominous red light, and their clothing shifted into crimson ninja attire. If Lynn didn't know their identity by now, it would be laughable.

"The Hand..."

Although he identified them, he didn't understand why the Hand would come after him. Their appearance was unexpected, and Tony Stark’s press conference was abruptly halted. Agents and security guards rushed to escort him to safety, while the NYPD and National Guard outside scrambled to form a defensive line.

But these lines were weak. The Hand ninjas moved with incredible speed; before the first soldier could fire, they had already reached the first Marine. With a flash of white light from a katana, the Marine was decapitated, his weapon sliced in two.

"Fire! Open fire!"

Soon, tongues of flame flickered, gunfire erupted, and the weapons on the infantry fighting vehicles began to spit lead. The Hand ninjas struck by heavy machine-gun fire split into pieces, turning into puffs of smoke, leaving only their gear behind as their true bodies vanished into ash. But the soldiers using assault rifles weren't as lucky. Small-caliber rounds could barely hit the ninjas, who moved at speeds impossible for a human to track, their weapons parrying the bullets with flashes of sparks. The deflected bullets ended up wounding the soldiers' own comrades.

As for Lynn, after their initial failed attack, the ninjas merely surrounded him cautiously, holding back.

"..."

Lynn suddenly realized something. Ever since he obtained the *Darkhold*, he had kept it on his person to prevent others from taking it. The object exerted an influence akin to Chthon, quickly taking over the minds of ordinary people and turning them into impulsive, uninhibited dark mages. The Hand clearly possessed some knowledge of magic; they must have sensed something from Lynn and were keeping him pinned here to prevent him from interfering with their mission.

This put Lynn in an awkward spot. He hadn't been hiding his tracks on his way here. Such an obvious confrontation, witnessed by so many and exposed to the eyes of S.H.I.E.L.D. and other factions, meant that the risk of exposure had increased significantly.

"I’ve been a bit lax. I should have adopted a different identity before coming here. I must learn from this."

Lynn glanced at the ninjas. He had no warmth for them; they were effectively immortal, but that didn't stop him from ruining their plans. Causing them some losses and muddying the waters would be a better choice. While his intended test subjects weren't one of Tony’s rivals, these Hand ninjas would serve as a fine alternative.

"Do it."

Lynn issued the command in his mind. Not far away, a ragged homeless man stepped through the crowd, his muscles twitching and rippling until his entire body burst open. A giant humanoid beetle appeared in everyone’s view, sending the surrounding crowd fleeing in a panic.

"My God, what is that thing!"

"A beetle monster!"

Cries of alarm erupted from the crowd. The moment Gekutor appeared, Lynn erected a psionic barrier. Simultaneously, the thermal organs on Gekutor’s body began to glow with a blinding light. Dozens of these organs fired biological lasers, instantly piercing the bodies of the Hand ninjas, melting their weapons, and detonating several infantry fighting vehicles they had seized.

This single attack easily neutralized three-quarters of the Hand ninjas. The pressure around Lynn instantly vanished. He brushed his palm across his temple, where purple arcs of electricity flickered between his skin and hand. His pupils shimmered with a faint violet mist.

Then, a massive surge of deep purple lightning erupted, lighting up everyone’s vision. With a thunderous roar, the area where Lynn stood was engulfed in smoke and debris, while countless weapons were shattered and sent flying into the sky. The ninjas surrounding him were truly reduced to ash.

Gekutor moved forward, lifting an infantry fighting vehicle with one hand and tossing it effortlessly, striking another vehicle that was preparing to fire. As it flipped, biological lasers surged from his wrists, melting the vehicle’s steel plating like butter and detonating their fuel tanks.

By the time the smoke cleared, Lynn had vanished. Only Gekutor and a few remaining Hand ninjas stood in the wreckage. The lasers fired again; Gekutor didn't even need to engage in hand-to-hand combat to wipe out the rest of the ninjas.

Now, only the burning husks of the vehicles remained, along with a pile of masterless cold weapons, several severely wounded Marines and National Guard soldiers, and Gekutor. The survivors stared in terror at the Zoanoid, too afraid to even make a sound, praying silently that the creature wouldn't notice them.

Gekutor looked up, clenched his fist, and slowly lowered it to the ground. Amidst a cloud of dust, he vanished, leaving behind only a massive crater and a scene of devastation.

Lynn was now standing in a nearby building. He had used his psionic power for a short-range blink—a new application of his mutant ability he had recently invented. While the distance was short and required prep time, it provided him with a means to quickly exit a scene.

He looked down at the *Darkhold* in his hand.

"I need to find a way to shield this thing."

Lynn shook his head helplessly. "I wanted to focus on developing the first control core, but it seems I’ll have to put that on hold. I need to hurry up and put my other knowledge into practice."