Chapter 5: The Plot Begins, The Photobombing Begins (Revised)
The exhaust pipe of the old car let out one last weary cough beside the bustling downtown street, and finally came to a steady stop.
Peter Parker let out a sigh of relief from the driver's seat, not even bothering to wipe the sweat from his forehead, before turning back to wave at Arthur and Gwen in the back seat.
"We've finally safely returned to this familiar concrete jungle."
Parker hurriedly unbuckled his seatbelt, muttering as he opened the car door:
"You two, I'll take my leave first. I need to get this precious vintage car safely back into Uncle Ben's garage before dark, and by the way, I also need to thoroughly check if the chassis scraped off a layer of skin out in the desert. See you!"
Parker was clearly badly frightened by the desolate ruins of car wreckage in the desert, and without even bothering with more pleasantries, he hurriedly said hello and drove straight into the traffic in a flash.
Holding Gwen's hand, Arthur stood by the sidewalk and watched the vintage car disappear at the end of the street corner. The car horns and pedestrian chatter on the street reclaimed his ears once again, and that heavy, sinking desolation in his heart finally completely dissipated.
"Alright, the annoying third wheel has finally gone far away."
Arthur turned his head to look at Gwen, who was still a bit sleepy beside him. He gripped her hand tightly, unconsciously increasing his strength a bit, and a tender smile was added to his originally calm tone.
"After tossing about all morning, to make up for those inconsiderate jokes this morning and this boring desert sightseeing trip—let's go, let's go get something good to eat first, and then slowly pass the afternoon away."
Gwen looked up at Arthur, a trace of bright light slowly rising in those azure-blue eyes.
She subconsciously gripped Arthur's hand back, as if grabbing an anchor point that could give her complete peace of mind, slightly and awkwardly averted her gaze, and muttered softly under her breath:
"I... I don't blame you for what you said this morning at all, and going to the desert was something I agreed to anyway. But since you insist on treating me to something, I'll reluctantly accept it..."
By the end of her sentence, the corners of her mouth had already uncontrollably curved into a pretty arc.
This upcoming afternoon completely became a peaceful, exclusive time shared only by Arthur and Gwen.
Arthur knew very well that no matter how familiar he was with the plot or how clear he was about the direction of this World, once this plot behemoth named Marvel started operating, those simple and plain days in the future would only become rarer and rarer.
Since he held the cheat of foreseeing the plot in his hands, at least before the major chaos broke out, being able to spend some normal days with the girl in front of him who always liked to shoulder all the pressure herself was also something worth cherishing.
They had a hearty lunch, and then slipped into a cinema to watch a popcorn movie with a somewhat clichéd plot.
In the dark screening hall, Gwen leaned her head on Arthur's shoulder for well over half the time.
Afterwards, they strolled slowly along the downtown streets, bought two cups of juice, and wandered around shops selling old records and all sorts of messy little accessories.
Gwen's originally tense nerves and sense of fatigue completely relaxed in this warm, sunny afternoon.
Until the setting Sun stretched the shadows of the street long, their date finally came to an end.
Standing downstairs at the apartment building, Gwenslightly stood on tiptoe, her hands reluctantly grabbing Arthur's collar, and left a gentle kiss on his lips.
She stared at Arthur for a long while before reluctantly turning around, walking away towards her home while turning her head back every few steps.
After returning to the apartment, the room recovered the loneliness typical of a single young man living alone.
Arthur casually turned on the living room lights, took a bottle of ice water from the refrigerator, and chugged half of it.
He sat on the sofa, took out the old phone that could only check the news and set alarms, and began to carefully calculate tomorrow's specific itinerary.
According to his memory of that extremely classic plot from Iron Man 1 in his mind, Tony Stark hammered and tinkered away in the cave with Dr. Yinsen, modifying those leftover scraps originally used to assemble missiles into the primitive Mark I armor, enduring goodness knows how long through the entire process.
And this wealthy young master trapped in the desert cave didn't actually begin the breakout battle that changed his life until shortly after the Sun rose on the morning completion, braving the frantic strafing of a group of Terrorists.
Arthur looked at the digital time on the phone screen, his fingers scrolling unhurriedly across the screen.
After running through all the details of this series of "photobombing actions" in his head and making sure there were no omissions in the plan, he stretched heavily, took a shower, and comfortably tossed himself into bed.
These three months became the last leisurely days for Arthur and Gwen.
Usually, the two would go on dates and watch movies from time to time.
Sometimes Gwen would also leave due to band practice issues, giving Arthur time to properly plan out his subsequent steps.
Three months later...
Early in the morning, the sky outside was just beginning to grow light. A sliver of cold gray morning light struggled to penetrate the gaps of the blinds, hitting the foot of Arthur's bed.
"Bzz-bzz-bzz—" The phone placed by the bedside shook like a crazy vibration motor, ringing hysterically.
Arthur hazily reached a hand out from under the covers, accurately slapping the phone screen to press that annoying sound back down.
He forced his eyes open. Due to lack of sleep, a clearly visible morning grumpy look hung on his face, his eyelids drooped downwards, and he couldn't help opening his mouth to let out a long, huge yawn.
At the very moment his mouth had not yet fully closed, a flash of hidden light abruptly flickered deep within his pupils.
An ancient and mysterious phantom rune of a rabbit head flashed across his retina.
Arthur immediately invoked the "Rabbit Talisman", one of the Zodiac Talismans engraved deep within his consciousness.
In the originally silent bedroom, the air seemed to be sharply tightened in an instant by some huge external force.
Following closely, a chaotic hurricane whipped up by high-speed movement rose out of thin air within the cramped room.
The quilt was blown up tight by the strong wind, and a few sticky notes on the desk were whipped straight up into mid-air.
In the perception of an ordinary person, time hadn't even ticked for a single second.
In this blink of an eye, Arthur, who had just been sprawled on the bed, had already completed an extremely unbelievable series of actions.
With a terrifying speed completely uncapturable by the naked eye, he rushed into the bathroom, squeezed toothpaste to brush his teeth, scooped up cold water to wash his face haphazardly, then rushed back in front of the wardrobe, and even had the leisure to pick out a rather handsome and neat jacket to slip onto his body.
When that artificially created micro-hurricane in the room gradually subsided, and fallen leaves and pieces of paper were still floating and spinning in mid-air, Arthur, who had just been yawning repeatedly out of sleepiness, was already standing at the door of the room, refreshed and neatly dressed, with the zipper of his jacket zipped up seamlessly.
He reached out to twist the doorknob and swaggered out.
Since he intended to rush directly to the Middle East desert thousands of miles away, it was naturally impossible to bother Uncle Ben's vintage car again, let alone count on any regular commercial flights.
After leaving the apartment, Arthur directly found a dead-end alley with neither surveillance nor passersby passing through.
In his consciousness, he simultaneously activated the "Rabbit Talisman", which represented extreme speed, and the "Rooster Talisman", which enabled one to master telekinetic levitation.
Two distinct yet mutually cooperative mysterious magicpowers instantly spread throughout Arthur's entire body.
The power of the Rooster Talisman made his body immediately lose all gravitational constraints, floating lightly in mid-air; while the Rabbit Talisman added a jet engine seemingly possessing infinite thrust behind his back.
"Whoosh—"
Accompanied by a faint sound of breaking air, Arthur's body rushed straight up into the high altitude like a silent shell fired from a barrel.
Above the clouds where no one could perceive, he was flying at extreme speed in the azure sky with an unprecedentedly free posture.
The urban high-rises on the ground, the continuous mountain ranges, and the vast plains rapidly retreated backwards in his line of sight beneath him.
This transcontinental free flight across half of Earth felt as effortless for Arthur as taking a stroll in his own neighborhood.
Because his speed was simply too fast, when he flew over the bustling airspace of some unknown country's prosperous city, he even had the leisure to lower his altitude, casually buying a freshly baked soft bread and a carton of fresh milk from a newly opened bakery, and even ran to a fast-food restaurant on the street corner to grab a steaming hot burger, treating them all as his breakfast reserves for today.
Guided by the memories of the God-eye perspective in his mind, Arthur circled around in the sky, and finally stopped quite precisely in the sand-filled Middle Eastern desert region.
Between two bald rocky hills ahead, a heavily guarded cave entrance was hidden.
Outside the cave entrance were piled a few sandbag fortifications used to block vehicles and two heavy machine guns, but the people who should have been patrolling outside were nowhere to be found.
At this moment, the destination's door was tightly shut, and everything seemed safe and sound. Aside from the sound of the dry, hot wind common in deserts, not the slightest sound of gunfire or combat could be heard.
"It seems I've arrived just in time; the climax of the movie hasn't started yet."
Arthur descended from mid-air and casually patted the sand stuck to the soles of his shoes.
He was in no rush to go up and knock on the door. Instead, not far from the cave entrance, he found a boulder large enough to block line of sight, and sat down squarely and unceremoniously.
He leisurely took the still-warm bread out of his pocket, tore open the packaging, took a large bite, and then inserted the straw to happily drink the carton of milk.
Outside the door of this dangerous stronghold full of Terrorists, this scene of leisurely eating breakfast exuded a bizarre sense of absurdity no matter how one looked at it.
Arthur finished the bread in a few bites, crumpled the empty milk carton into a ball and casually threw it into the sand, then picked up the burger. Just as he was about to unwrap it, feeling as though he might be a bit too full, he simply tossed the burger along with its wrapper onto a nearby rock, and wiped the remaining milk stains from the corner of his mouth casually with his sleeve.
Right in those few seconds while he was wiping his mouth,
"Bang, bang, bang—"
In the silent desert valley, a rapid and harsh burst of automatic rifle fire suddenly came from deep within the tightly shut cave, mixed with angry shouts in an incomprehensible foreign language and the dull sounds of heavy metal colliding against metal.
The battle had officially begun.
Hearing this familiar and urgent prologue, Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly.
He knew that this gunfire meant Tony Stark was about to begin his violent breakout inside that crude and heavy Mark I armor.
He couldn't keep sitting on the sidelines outside.
Arthur stood up, stretched his wrists and neck a little, and strode directly toward the cave entrance that hid countless murderous intents.
Just as he was about to approach the sturdy metal door, Arthur abruptly mobilized the formidable power belonging to the "Ox Talisman" deep within his consciousness.
A majestic, overwhelming force that seemed capable of tearing everything apart and completely defying reason instantly flooded every muscle and bone in his right hand.
Without even stopping his steps, leveraging the momentum of his walk, he directly raised his right fist—blessed by the power of the Ox Talisman—and smashed it fiercely against the heavy metal door used to defend against external enemies.
"Boom—"
Accompanied by a terrifying roar countless times louder than all the previous gunshots combined, that heavy door welded from several centimeters of solid steel was hit head-on as if by a heavy armored vehicle traveling at full speed.
Under the crushing force, the steel made a miserable twisting and snapping sound. Under the power of this punch, the entire door had no room for resistance whatsoever.
It blew right off the wall hinges, smashing heavily into the previously dim cave passage and kicking up a huge cloud of grayish-yellow, choking dust.
Arthur stepped over the metal fragments deformed by the immense force, braving the dust flying all over the sky.
While walking deeper into the passage, he cleared his throat and, using a loud voice that appeared extremely arrogant and full of frivolous provocation in this time and place, shouted into the depths of the cave in full-chested English.
"Stop the fucking shooting! Your daddy is here—!"
This full-chested roar echoed wildly in the confined cave that was originally filled with gunfire and echoes.
That huge commotion and extremely shocking entrance instantly nailed everyone's attention inside the cave firmly to the dust-shrouded passage entrance.
In a spacious area enclosed by iron bars deeper in the passage, the situation was somewhat chaotic.
Wrapped entirely in a crude, heavy suit of steel armor crudely hammered and pieced together from missile casings, Tony Stark, who was just about to maneuver his clumsy body forward, froze momentarily in his actions, shaken by the sudden loud noise.
Not far from Tony's side, that little old man who had already picked up a dropped assault rifle and was gritting his teeth, planning to rush out and draw fire to buy time for Stark to break through—Dr. Yinsen—also froze blankly in place, his hands holding the gun trembling slightly.
As for the Ten Rings Gang Terrorists hiding behind cover, holding various long guns and short cannons and preparing to turn this room into a sieve, at this moment they all looked as if the pause button had been pressed. Dozens of eyes carrying extremely dumbfounded and highly defensive gazes looked over in the direction of the smashed-away door.
Enduring the gazes of everyone present like this, Arthurtucked his hands casually into his pockets. The expression on his face was as calm as if he weren't kicking open the door to the Terrorists' lair, but had just walked past a supermarket during his morning stroll.
Treading on a floor of gravel and cartridge shells, he swaggered step by step from the outer passage toward the core area of the internal firefight.
In this Death zone locked down by countless firearms, was he really not afraid of dying while taking such a blatant stroll? The bullets fired from those pitch-black muzzles were real, deadly things capable of tearing flesh and blood.
Was Arthur afraid of bullets?
Nonsense, of course he was afraid! If those high-speed rotating bullets burrowed into his chest or blew up his head, that heartbreaking pain where even bones were crushed to pieces was definitely not a pleasant feeling.
If hundreds of bullets were allowed to hit his body squarely, the pain alone could knock someone out cold.
However, being afraid of pain was one thing. The reason Arthur dared to swagger like this at this time was because his backing was simply too solid.
At this very moment, deep within his consciousness, a "Dog Talisman" emanating an aura of endless vitality had long been activated by him to full power.
That rule-level magic belonging to immortality and eternal youth had woven a layer of life shield that could not be broken by any mortal weapons into every drop of his blood and every inch of his cells.
Although as long as bullets hit his body, the blood that should flow would still flow, the injuries that should be sustained would still be sustained, and the excruciating pain of torn flesh would not be reduced by a single bit.
However, the baseline of this talisman representing absolute "vitality" was right there: no matter how severe the injuries were, whether he was turned into a beehive or his internal organs were blown to pieces, he would absolutely, absolutely, absolutely not die.
As long as he wouldn't die, what did suffering a little flesh wound matter?
Thinking of the ghost-seeing, despairing expressions on the faces of these exasperated Terrorists when they unleashed a bunch of bullets onto him only to find out that he only felt pain but couldn't die, Arthur let out a cold snort in his heart, and his terrible mood—which had still carried a bit of morning crankiness from waking up early—suddenly became exceptionally great.
Under the coercion of countless gun muzzles, he forcefully held back his laughter, walking more and more composedly and leisurely.
Chapter 6 "Check Out How Badass I Am"
Arthur stood carelessly at the passage entrance, stepping on smoking scrap iron under his feet.
The Ten Rings Gang Terrorists opposite had originally been pointing their guns at the iron-barred area where Tony and Dr. Yinsen were locked up, but now they all turned their gun barrels around, a dense sea of muzzles aiming straight at him.
Ordinarily, with a dozen live-ammo-loaded rifles pointed at their heads, an ordinary person would have been scared stiff in the calves long ago.
But Arthur was different; instead of retreating, he took a heavy step forward.
He raised his right hand and, facing this group of turbaned, fierce-looking militants, very naturally, smoothly, and unhesitatingly flipped a huge middle finger.
Not only did he flip the middle finger, but he also deliberately fanned the underside of his chin with his other hand, striking an extremely provocative and nasty expression, as if he were looking at a bunch of baboons blindly howling in a zoo.
The leader on the opposite side, a stubbled man with a sinister gaze, how could he endure such a grievance?
He didn't care at all what kind of deity or evil ghost running out of hell this guy who had popped out of thin air and smashed open the steel door with one punch was; in this desolate mountain wilderness, the firepower in their hands was God.
The leader waved his hand fiercely, shouted at the top of his lungs in hoarse Arabic, and issued a death order to open fire.
"Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—!"
Without the slightest hesitation, a dozen assault rifles and a heavy machine gun mounted nearby simultaneously spat out dazzling tongues of fire.
A deafening roar instantly exploded inside the sealed cave, and the smell of gunpowder and gunsmoke filled the air in almost half a second.
The dense bullets rushed straight at Arthur like a violent swarm of metal hornets.
Arthur stood right in place without even blinking an eye, ready to thoroughly enjoy this blockbuster moment of forcefully resisting bullets with the undying body of the Dog Talisman.
"Puff, puff, puff, puff, puff!"
The bullets bit fiercely into Arthur's body. His jacket, which had been fairly neat and handsome moments before, was torn into tattered rags almost instantly.
The scorching bullet heads carried terrifying kinetic energy, ruthlessly shredding his skin and flesh.
If one looked closely, his chest, thighs, and arms were instantly covered with pitted, bloody bullet holes.
For anyone present, an ordinary person beaten like this would have long turned into a puddle of mush and died thoroughly by now. But an extremely bizarre scene occurred.
Under the rule-tier vitality repair of the Horse Talisman, the flesh craters on Arthur's body didn't even have time to spray out massive amounts of blood.
Those torn muscle fibers and blood vessels grew and healed wildly at a perverted speed visible to the naked eye.
"Clink, clank…"
Those flattened bullet heads that had burrowed deep into his bones and flesh were forcibly squeezed out of the wounds by the newly grown, tyrannical muscles.
The blood-stained bullet heads rattled down onto the stony ground near his feet, making crisp sounds.
If one ignored his face and only looked at his figure standing indomitably in a hail of bullets, with his flesh constantly healing and bouncing all the bullets out, this scene was indeed drop-dead gorgeous.
He was the spitting image of an invincible God of War just walking out of hell, definitely capable of winning a Best Actor award in a Hollywood blockbuster.
But the catch was that if you factored his face into this picture, it was a completely different story.
Arthur was probably tricked by the movies he had watched before; he only thought about how the Dog Talisman could keep him from dying, while completely forgetting one extremely important thing—the Dog Talisman didn't handle pain relief!
Undying is undying, but this damn thing was experiencing the process of flesh being shattered by bullets and healing all over again using a mortal's nerves in real life!
The moment the first round of bullets hit his body just now, Arthur felt as if his body had been brutally pierced by the tusks of dozens of crazed wild boars, and as if he had been rolled around in a meat grinder.
That bone-piercing, excruciating pain surged straight to his crown, almost making him faint right then and there from failing to catch his breath.
Although his body kept healing under the effect of the Dog Talisman, new bullets immediately struck again; this cycle of "injury—healing—re-injury" was practically more lethal than death by a thousand cuts.
Standing in the firelight at this moment, Arthur no longer had any of that breezy, posing composure from just now.
His entire face was completely distorted, his eyebrows twisted into a ball, his eye corners swollen and glowing red from congestion, and the corners of his mouth twitching wildly out of control, looking grimly fierce like a giant macaque whose tail had been stepped on hard.
He clenched his back molars tightly, his teeth grinding with a creaking sound, and a profanity burst out unstoppably from his throat: "Damn it… it fucking hurts so much…"
While sucking in cold breaths, Arthur muttered despairingly in the gaps between the gunfire,
"Those guys in movies with self-healing abilities, Wolverine, Deadpool, and all that, how on earth do they endure it? Do they just purely tough it out? Those guys are really fucking amazing… I can't take it anymore!"
Less than five or six seconds had just passed, and the opposing rifles hadn't even emptied half a magazine.
But to Arthur, these few seconds felt agonizingly long, as if he had spent several years in the Avici Hell. He really couldn't keep up the act anymore, and he truly couldn't stand this torture anymore.
To hell with shocking the audience and invincible standing poses; he just wanted to end this live beating immediately.
Braving the wave after wave of excruciating pain washing over his nerves, Arthur waved his big hand fiercely, stomped his right leg hard on the ground, and his entire body instantly rushed forward.
At the exact same instant he exerted force, the "Rabbit" among the Zodiac Talismans hidden deep within his consciousness was activated at full power regardless of the cost.
The next moment, the perception of the entire Worldunderwent earth-shattering changes in Arthur's eyes.
The originally deafening machine-gun strafing sounds seemed to be forcibly prolonged by some force, turning into an extremely low, pitch-shifted buzzing sound. The gunsmoke lingering in the air and the flying sparks froze directly in mid-air.
The surrounding frantically firing members of the Ten Rings Gang were like poor-quality wax statues at this moment, maintaining their backward-leaning postures and grimacing expressions due to recoil, fixed rigidly in place.
All objects, sounds, and light slowed down to the extreme within Arthur's infinitely heightened super-speed perception, practically no different from a paused movie frame.
Under the blessing of the Rabbit Talisman, the pain on Arthur's body was also temporarily thrown to the back of his mind due to the surge of adrenaline and the transcendence of speed.
He stopped his steps, turned his head in this frozen rain of fire, and looked around at this incredible World.
Watching a few golden bullets that had just spewed out of the chambers and were gliding through the air like slow-motion snails, a Flash of excitement crossed Arthur's eyes.
He couldn't help but playfully reach out and poke the bullet head that was still rotating slowly.
Because of the extreme speed, the surface of the bullet still carried astonishingly high temperatures, scalding him enough to retract his hand slightly.
He grinned and smiled, exclaiming, "So this is the World in the eyes of Quicksilver and the Flash? It's fucking so cool."
However, exclamations aside, having been beaten for so long, revenge always had to be taken.
"Let's do the real business first." Arthur rubbed his shoulder, which had taken the worst beating just now, and muttered softly.
He began to move. Under the extremely terrifying speed blessing granted by the Rabbit Talisman, Arthur strode leisurely in this frozen space.
He walked up to those bullets sluggishly flying towards him, and like picking out discounted goods in a supermarket, he reached out and casually fiddled with their trajectories.
"This one is likely to hit the old man nearby… go to the wall." With a point of his fingertip, Arthur pushed the stray bullet heading towards Dr. Yinsen toward the rock wall on the left.
"These few almost broke my legs, go onto the box over there." He gently tapped a few bullets spat out from the heavy machine gun with the back of his hand, making them change their trajectory.
To prevent these redirected bullets from accidentally injuring Dr. Yinsen, who was still of ordinary human physique, or breaking Tony's not-so-reliable giant escape iron can,
he carefully sorted through the trajectories of all the bullets in mid-air, ensuring that their final target locations were all hard mountain walls or deserted sandy ground.
After adjusting all these lethal metals into "safe mode," Arthur turned around and cast his gaze upon those Ten Rings Gang militants who looked like wooden stakes.
Arthur's footsteps stomped on the ground, and his entire person turned into a lingering shadow that could only exist under extreme speed.
He began to run frantically around the not-so-large space inside the cave. When he ran in front of the first terrorist, he casually poked the other person's chest with a finger; when running past the second turbaned person, he casually slapped the other person's jaw; when he reached the stubbled leader, he even more unceremoniously slammed a heavy palm onto the back of the other person's head.
In this relatively static spacetime, Arthur circled the area like this, equally and casually touching the bodies of every single Ten Rings Gang member.
Although it was just a gentle touch to himself, under the super-strong kinetic energy stacked by the terrifying speed of the Rabbit Talisman, these touches were equivalent in physical laws to being hit head-on by a car traveling at hundreds of kilometers per hour.
In just a few short seconds, a little while had passed in Arthur's subjective perception, whereas the real World had only elapsed an insignificant instant.
Having finished all the work, he made a sharp stop with his feet, standing steadily a few meters in front of the original gate's remains.
He deliberately straightened his jacket, which had been battered by bullets into a tattered fishing net, stood upright, and then stood there with a self-perceived very cool cross-armed pose.
"Release." Arthur chanted silently in his heart, cutting off the power of the Rabbit Talisman.
The surrounding flow of time, which had been stagnant like dead water, roared back to normal at this instant like a breached flood.
"Crackle, snap—boom!"
The bullets whose trajectories had all been modified by Arthur moments ago struck the stone walls on both sides of the cave simultaneously and densely, like a disorderly shower of metal hail.
As for the dozen or so fully armed Ten Rings Gangmembers, they had no idea what had happened at all.
Before they even had time to blink their eyelids, they felt an overwhelming, extremely violent force suddenly explode from all parts of their bodies.
The huge impact accumulated from Arthur's casual touches during time-stop burst forth in full at this moment when time resumed.
Hearing only a few muffled thuds of "bang, bang, bang," those dozen strong men were as if struck by an invisible siege ram, their bodies flying away like snapped-string kites, crashing heavily into the uneven walls and bunker sandbags around the cave.
After a few dull thuds of impact, this group of people rolled their eyes, sliding limply to the ground like tattered cloth bags, utterly wiped out, cleanly and directly passing out cold. The assault rifles in their hands also clattered all over the ground.
In just a few short seconds, this cave, which had been originally filled with a hail of gunfire, flying bullets, and was even many times more chaotic than at the very beginning, grew completely quiet along with the fall of these people in this extremely brief instant… Leaving only the stone debris on the surrounding walls rustling down.
Holding his rifle with his mouth agape, Dr. Yinsen stared fixedly at the subordinates scattered all over the ground who had somehow flown away, then looked at Arthurstanding unscathed in front, his eyeballs almost popping out, as if his worldview had collapsed.
Arthur couldn't be bothered to care about the old doctor's shock. He leisurely turned half his body, casting his gaze past the corpses lying on the ground, and accurately locked it onto that prison cell.
Over there, that crude and heavy Mark I iron armor, barely pieced together from hammered rough missile shells, rusted iron sheets, and various gears, stood in place like a clumsy iron tin can.
Arthur naturally knew who was packed inside this pile of scrap metal. The corners of his mouth curved upwards in an extremely suave manner, revealing a very pretentious, intensely punchable yet somewhat effortless smile.
Looking at that big iron can, he asked loudly in very fluent English:
"Hey, playboy, check out how badass I am?"
Chapter 7 Butterfly Effect, Stark Who Did Not Become Iron Man (Revised)
The cave was still filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder smoke, mixed with a faint scent of blood, and gravel and bullet casings covered the uneven ground.
The Death zone, which had been at daggers drawn just moments ago, was now so quiet that only the occasional sound of dripping water from the rock wall could be heard.
Tony Stark was locked inside this bulky, crude, and sweltering Mark I armor, watching everything that had just happened through that narrow observation slit.
To say he wasn't shocked would be absolute nonsense.
As a top genius who firmly believed in science and the laws of physics, the most unreasonable thing he had ever seen in the first half of his life was just a high-yield missile.
But just a few seconds ago, he had watched with his own eyes as an Asian young man in casual clothes withstood the strafing of a dozen rifles, his body riddled with countless bloody holes, yet instantly healing.
What was even more absurd was that in the blink of an eye, more than a dozen armed Terrorists were sent flying straight out and knocked unconscious.
This scene practically blew Newton's coffin lid to pieces.
But after a brief pupil earthquake, the instinct of Tony the playboy and genius brain quickly took the high ground.
Anyway, the most unreasonable and mind-boggling person was already standing alive right in front of him, and he even had a glowing, crappy electromagnet stuffed in his chest; agonizing over those irrelevant things was completely meaningless.
What he needed to do most right now was to maintain the dignity and aura of the head of Stark Industries in front of this unknown "Superhuman" who had just saved his life.
Tony looked at Arthur's extremely arrogant arms-crossed posture and listened to those vulgar yet provocative words, his face twitching involuntarily beneath the helmet.
He adjusted his breath to make his sound as relaxed and cynical as possible, and the metallic electronic voice transmitted through the crude loudspeaker echoed in the empty cave.
"Hoo…" That was a long exhale, "Though I admit I'm a standard playboy, and the major entertainment newspapers in New York can prove that. But my friend, I have zero interest in men. So I appreciate your kindness, but I'll pass."
Hearing this smooth-talking response, Arthur's belly full of sarcastic lines that he had prepared directly stuck in his throat.
The corners of Arthur's mouth twitched uncontrollably twice, and he directly gave that pile of big iron scrap a huge rolling of his eyes.
He had truly witnessed this billionaire's stubbornness; having just been fished out of a pile of dead people, he still had the mood to chatter about this and that with him here.
"Fine." Arthur couldn't be bothered to pick up this vapid conversation starter. He lowered his head and looked at his jacket, which had been beaten into tattered rags by bullets. Although his wounds had all healed completely, the large patches of blood stains and holes on his clothes made him feel uncomfortable all over.
Arthur waved his hand casually, awkwardly steering the topic in a different direction, and incidentally pointed towards the cave entrance.
"Let's go, playboy. No matter what you're interested in, you wouldn't want to keep staying in this corpse-filled broken cave whose smell is worse than a sewer until your body starts to stink, right? Anyway, I've seriously had enough of this place."
Arthur curled his lip, then his peripheral vision swept over Dr. Yinsen who was still stunned nearby, "That little old man holding a gun over there surely doesn't want to stay here either, right?"
Dr. Yinsen, suddenly being called out by name, was startled.
He was still in a strong sense of unreality, holding that heavy assault rifle tightly with both hands.
Hearing Arthur's words, he instinctively looked around his surroundings.
Shell casings all over the floor, members of the Ten Rings Gang lying dead or alive in pools of blood or piles of gravel, and those cold iron bars that had trapped him.
Finally, his gaze followed the direction guided by Arthur, crossed the metal door that had been smashed flying entirely, and looked towards the end of the tunnel.
There, the faint light of the outside desert filtered through, representing the freedom he had yearned for day and night, and even thought he would never touch again in this lifetime.
Dr. Yinsen swallowed hard, nodding quickly almost like a conditioned reflex, afraid that if he answered too late, freedom would run away.
Watching Dr. Yinsen's reaction, Arthur turned his head, shrugged at Tony, spread his hands, with an expression full of "Look, he said so himself".
Of course, Tony didn't want to stay another second in this living hell that had trapped him for so long. Seeing that the crisis was resolved, he didn't say any more nonsense and directly controlled this crudely made armor.
"Click—Screech—"
The crude hydraulic system spewed a burst of turbid steam, and the heavy metal soles stepped on the gravel-filled ground, making a deafening "clank clank" sound.
Tony manipulated this big iron chunk, which was clumsy but definitely counted as an engineering miracle, walking step by step toward the gate.
Arthur tidied his tattered clothes, shook the dust off his hands, and stepped forward to follow. Dr. Yinsen even pressed the rifle closely against his chest, following closely step by step. The three of them walked outward one in front and two behind along the dim tunnel.
The tunnel wasn't long, but for those who had seen the light of day again, every step was of extraordinary significance.
When they completely stepped out of that gloomy cave entrance, the dazzling sunlight instantly flooded their vision.
Although the Middle East desert was desolate and dry, and even the blowing wind carried heat waves that seemed able to bake away a person's moisture, for someone who had just crawled out of a gutter, this was simply the most beautiful scene in the World.
Dr. Yinsen involuntarily slowed his pace. He raised his head, squinting against the dazzling sunlight. He casually laid the assault rifle he had been holding tightly onto a large rock nearby.
The old doctor took a long, deep breath of the dry air free of any bloody smell, then raised his arms high, stretching a solid and uninhibited stretch, only to hear his spine emit a few slight crisp clicks.
"So… this is what freedom feels like." Dr. Yinsen's voice trembled slightly, tears welling faintly in the corners of his eyes, and he sighed a sentence in an extremely light voice.
After finishing the stretch, this physicist who had gone through untold hardships immediately reined in his loss of composure.
He lowered his head and looked at the old suit on his body, which was full of engine oil, dirt, and wear marks.
Even though he had been treated like cattle during these pitch-black days, he actually still used his hands to beat the dust off the corners of his clothes, trying hard to straighten his wrinkled collar.
Arthur watched the old man's every move from the side. He also had to admire that the dignity in some people's bones could not be stripped away by the environment.
Even having just escaped Death, even being in this godforsaken desert, Dr. Yinsen still maintained the nobility and elegance belonging to him as a scholar.
After freedom, as always, he wanted to make himself look like a person rather than a prisoner.
Just as Dr. Yinsen was busy patting off dust, a huge sound of metal collision and hissing air came from the side.
"Give me a hand, this piece of crap is stuck!" Tony shouted muffledly inside the iron can.
Although the Mark I (prototype) helped him withstand the explosion and a small portion of firepower, this crude assembly was a solid iron coffin once it ran out of power. It didn't have automatic donning and doffing functions at all.
Arthur stepped forward, providing force through the Dog Talisman within his body, and along the gaps of the joints, like peeling a lobster, violently tore open the mask's latches with two "crack" sounds.
Tony eagerly pushed open the heavy helmet with both hands, and violently flipped it down onto the sandy ground aside.
Stark, who had seen the light of day again, was extremely disheveled. His originally meticulous hair now stuck to his forehead like clumped weeds, greasy.
His whole face was covered in black mud mixed with engine oil and sweat, his dark circles were so heavy they looked painted on, and the beard on his chin was a mess.
He greedily took a huge gulp of fresh air, his chest rising and falling violently. Although the heat wave was scorching, the expression on his face was even more refreshing than having just drunk a large gulp of iced champagne.
Tony didn't immediately care about Dr. Yinsen and Arthuraside, but lowered his head, using an extremely scrutiny and evaluation gaze, up and down examining the pile of scrap metal still radiating heat and gunpowder smell that he had worn on his body.
A flash of shrewd and fanatical light suddenly crossed his eyes. The lingering fear of having just escaped Deathvanished instantly, replaced by the instinctive calculation of a top arms dealer.
Tony reached out and knocked on the thick steel plate on his arm, and glanced again at the crude but recently proven powerful miniature minigun mounting point on his wrist.
"Hoo… To be honest," Tony panted while raising an eyebrow, his tone carrying his signature conceit and excitement, "though this iron lump is stuffy and hot to wear, and as clumsy to move in as a rusted bear… But!"
He raised his volume, reaching out to gesture a framework in the air.
"If we do some lightweight processing, replacing these scrap irons with high-strength titanium alloy. Redesign the power system, add more modular weapon carrying capacity… Hey, this can definitely serve as an individual super-weapon, pushing directly into the war market! Once this thing is sold to the Military, it can definitely sell for an unimaginable astronomical price. I've even thought of the promotional slogan."
Arthur, who had been standing aside relaxing his body, froze completely when he heard this grand blueprint with zero psychological burden and a brain full of how to get rich and upgrade weapons.
Arthur helplessly let out a long breath of turbid air, his look at Tony becoming very complicated.
All of this was exactly the same as the countless plot analyses he had scrolled through online in his past life.
Back when he watched movies in the original World, many film critics were saying that Iron Man was never just a product hammered out by Tony Stark alone with a genius brain locked in a cave.
The true soul of Iron Man was born at the moment Dr. Yinsen fell in a pool of blood, unreservedly giving up his life to buy time for Tony to start the armor.
It was the Death of that kind old man, it was the cruel reality of Tony watching with his own eyes as the Jericho missiles produced by his company blew villages into ruins and pushed good people to Death, smashing the vain and cold-blooded shell of that playboy arms dealer heavily like a sledgehammer.
With that heart-wrenching fissure of that moment, there came later the superhero Iron Man who desperately closed the weapon department and flew into the sky to make amends for his sins.
And what about now?
Arthur turned his head to glance at Dr. Yinsen, who was leisurely combing his hair, and then turned his gaze back to Tony, who was chattering endlessly about how to optimize the mecha to sell for more money.
Because the butterfly that did not belong to this Worldflapped its wings, because he violently entered the scene at a critical moment, pulling all the hatred and firepower of the enemies onto his own immortal body. Dr. Yinsen didn't die, and not even a patch of oily skin was scraped off his body.
There was no parting of life and Death, no blood-dripping shock.
Therefore, the shell named selfishness and greed deep in the heart of Tony Stark in front of him was intact, without even a single crack splitting open.
Arthur deeply realized at this moment that in the billionaire's heart, driving this heavy armor all the way through the cave just now was simply letting him experience the pure adrenaline-pumping thrill of personally operating heavy thermal weapons and watching the tongues of fire spray crazily.
For him, this kidnapping incident was like going to a haunted house for a live-action immersive experience that was dangerous but eventually escaped safely.
Without the painful reflection brought by sacrifice, what was still packed in Tony Stark's brain now was the pure anticipation of manufacturing more powerful, more violent, and more lucrative lethal weapons.
Arthur silently touched his chin, not picking up Tony's topic. He just quietly looked at the genius in front of him, who was disheveled but had shining eyes, secretly calculating in his heart where this deviation would eventually lead the timeline of this Universe.
After all, Stark, without the baptism of soul, was not yet qualified to wear that battle robe called "Hero".
Chapter 8 How ~ Could I ~ Bear To ~
Heat waves rolled across the sandy ground littered with gravel and bullet casings, and the unpleasant smell of engine oil and gunpowder still lingered in the air.
The Sun hung brightly in the sky, making people's eyes ache with its glare.
Dr. Yinsen stood quietly to the side, but his gaze didn't look at the scattered militants around at all; instead, he stared straight at Tony, who was fiddling with that battered armor.
Hearing Tony rambling on about how to modify this sheet of iron and how to push it into the high-end weapons market to make a fortune, a trace of deep pity slowly surfaced on the old doctor's exhausted face.
That look in his eyes was like looking at a high and mighty deity.
A god who wielded power mortals could never hope to reach, yet didn't care about mortal life or death at all, only caring whether he himself was having fun and enjoying it.
Dr. Yinsen let out a deep sigh.
He patted the suit on his body that was so dirty its color was unrecognizable, and with somewhat heavy steps, slowly walked over to Tony's huge steel body.
"Stark."
Dr. Yinsen's voice was not loud, appearing even a bit weightless in the howling wind and sand.
He raised his head, looking at the dark observation slit on the head of the armor, his tone very gentle.
"Although we were locked up in that dark and sunless place, I'd like to think that we had a great conversation during this time, and our relationship could be considered quite good. So, for the sake of us going through thick and thin together, can you listen to some of my thoughts?"
Arthur was standing next to a piece of broken wall a few paces away at the moment, with his hands in his pockets, putting on the appearance of an unfathomable You-Know-Who.
But as soon as he heard Dr. Yinsen's words, the melon-eating zha in his heart instantly sprang out.
You must know, this was a rather critical node in the Marvel Universe!
In the original plot, Dr. Yinsen used his own life to shatter Tony's cold and selfish shell.
Now that Dr. Yinsen had survived intact, how was he going to persuade this playboy?
This was simply more exciting than watching an ultra-clear remastered blockbuster movie.
Arthur quietly shifted his feet, like a sneaky cat, quietly leaning his body forward, his ears even pricking up vividly, almost directly crowding into the middle of the two.
He held his breath, fearing to miss a single word Dr. Yinsenwas going to say next.
Just when he was fully focused and enjoying his melon-eating session to the fullest.
"Buzz—Buzz—"
A cheerful and extremely inopportune cell phone ringtone suddenly burst from Arthur's pocket.
In this empty and quiet desert, the sound was simply as loud as a loudspeaker.
Arthur was startled into a violent twitch, and the body he had leaned out quickly shrank back.
His brows instantly knitted into a knot, and the expression on his face also became very impatient.
Who the heck was this!
Why didn't they call at any other time, but had to call at this critical juncture?
Wasn't this deliberately delaying him from listening to the crucial plot!
Looking completely displeased, he reached his hand into his pocket, preparing to hang up directly without even looking, and if worse came to worst, scold them back later.
However, when he took out his phone and glanced somewhat irritably at the screen, his entire person froze instantly as if cast with magic.
Four glowing characters flashed brightly on the screen: [Baby Gwen].
The previous second, Arthur had a full face of impatience, exuding an aura of "don't mess with me, I'm annoyed"; the moment he saw those four characters, the irritable expression on his face vanished completely as if wiped away by an eraser.
Replaced by an incomparably radiant, and one might even say somewhat infatuated, "auntie smile".
The arc of those corners of his mouth was practically going to split to the root of his ears.
How could he still care about Iron Man or not, how could he still care about the melon-eating scene of soul redemption.
Arthur hurriedly turned around, trotted away in a flash for several steps, found a huge rock that looked reasonably clean, and hid tightly behind it.
He cleared his throat, adjusted his voice to the softest frequency band, and cautiously pressed the answer button.
"Hello~"
Arthur's voice was so gentle it could practically drip water, simply like a completely different person from the badass who withstood a hail of bullets and smashed open a metal door with one punch just moments ago.
"Early in the morning, why did the girl suddenly think of calling me?"
The other end of the phone did not immediately convey that usual cheerful and crisp response, but was instead accompanied by a faint sound of breathing.
Following that, a soft, glutinous voice carrying obvious grievance and interrogation drilled out from the earpiece.
"Yu..."
Gwen's voice sounded a bit muffled, her tone full of unhidden panic and insecurity.
"Where did you go? I knocked on the door just now and you weren't there, why aren't you at home? Are you... are you because of that day's matter, so you despise me and don't want to talk to me anymore?"
Hearing these words, Arthur's heart gave a fierce tug, immediately followed by a wave of helplessness and heartache.
Three months ago, he originally just wanted to make a joke about meeting up from an online relationship to tease her, who knew he would accidentally touch upon this girl's psychological trauma (as he thought) of losing her best friend in the past.
Although he immediately pacified her for a long time back then and let her regain her sense of security, now it seemed that this girl still had a small knot left in her heart.
Waking up early in the morning and not seeing him, that panic of fear of loss had acted up again.
Arthur hadn't expected that the hurt caused by a small joke would be remembered by this girl for so long; he must never make such jokes again in the future.
"No, no, no!"
Arthur hurriedly shook his head wildly at the phone.
Although he knew Gwen couldn't see it, he still wished he could shove these three words directly into her ears.
The speed of his rebuttal was lightning fast, while his tone grew increasingly gentle, "What are you blindly thinking about! You are so cute, I love you too much to even have time for it, how could I possibly bear to despise you. Yesterday truly was just a joke, I swear I will never tease you with that kind of thing again in the future, alright?"
A very soft sniffing sound came from the other end of the phone, without speaking.
Arthur knew she was acting spoiled and wanting to be coaxed, so his tone became even more gentle and considerate: "Be good, I'm not hiding from you. I have a slight matter right now, running an errand outside, and it'll be finished very soon. I'll go back in a little while, okay? Can you wait for me obediently at home?"
Seemingly pacified by Arthur's extremely tolerant and patient tone, the atmosphere on the other end of the phone finally eased down.
In order to divert her attention, Arthur took the opportunity to ask with a smile: "Right, why did you come running to look for me so early today? Normally at this time aren't you still sleeping in?"
Asked like this, Gwen suddenly fell silent on the other end.
After a full several seconds, a thread-like, faint voice came from the earpiece.
Because of excessive shyness, this voice even drifted a little.
"Because..."
Gwen muttered softly, sounding as if she was speaking with her face buried in the pillow, "Because, I missed you... wanted to see you earlier, hehe."
That final soft chuckle carrying a bit of silliness scratched like a feather right at the tip of Arthur's heart.
He leaned against the scorching rock, the smile on his face becoming increasingly radiant, feeling that his trip running across most of Earth was truly worth it, as long as he could hurry back to see her.
"Alright."
Arthur said softly, "Then I'll wait for you to go back, come back early, I miss you."
After Gwen finished whispering her instructions on the other end, without even waiting for Arthur to say any more sweet words, she shyly hung up the phone directly.
Listening to the busy tone in the phone, Arthur let out a long sigh of relief, turned off the phone screen, and put it back into his pocket.
He raised his hand to wipe the sweat on his forehead, secretly feeling a sense of fortune in his heart.
Thank goodness oh thank goodness, thank goodness this girl was only checking whether he was hiding from her, and didn't get to the bottom of it to ask what he was specifically doing outside.
After all, what he was currently located in was a Middle East militant Base, and just moments ago he had torn apart an iron door with his bare hands.
With his temperament of easily turning soft-hearted whenever he encountered Gwen, if this girl really acted spoiled and cross-examined him, he probably wouldn't hesitate for two seconds before spilling everything like beans out of a bamboo tube, completely unable to bear lying to her even a single sentence.
"Phew... That was close."
Arthur muttered, slightly straightening out the facial expression that had been somewhat distorted from smiling while on the phone, striving to restore himself back to that unfathomable, none-of-my-business expert posture from just now.
He feignedly patted the dust off his clothes, then turned around nonchalantly, preparing to walk out and see which step the plot had progressed to.
As a result, the moment he turned halfway, his footsteps were nailed straight in place.
Seeing Tony and Dr. Yinsen, who had originally been talking seriously over there, now standing neatly together, their expressions full of gossip and the banter of "eating a big melon".
And Dr. Yinsen beside them, on that old face which was normally serious, proper, and full of scholarly bearing, right then also rarely revealed that meaningful smile of an elder watching juniors fall in love.
These two people actually even stopped their conversation, standing right here so openly eavesdropping on him!
The air at this moment suddenly became extremely quiet, with only the slight rustling sound of sand kicked up by the wind blowing occasionally from afar.
The three of them looked at each other with big eyes staring at small eyes like this, and the scene was extremely awkward for a time.
Seeing Arthur's slightly stiff and awkward gaze sweep over, Tony probably also felt that eavesdropping on someone else's so mushy phone call truly detracted from his image as the richest man in New York.
This playboy who had seen all kinds of big scenes hurriedly and very deliberately dry-coughed heavily twice.
"Ahem! Um..."
Tony rapidly revolved his genius brain.
To divert attention, he directly turned that heavy iron can body of his, raised that rough mechanical arm, and heroically patted the shoulder of Dr. Yinsen beside him.
"Dr. Yinsen,"
Tony cleared the metallic voice in his loudspeaker, pretending as if nothing had happened just now, and spoke in an extremely serious boss tone.
"I have to say, your brain and hands-on ability are really quite good. Any interest in working with me after leaving here? Go to Stark Industries, whatever laboratory you need I can give you. Also, regarding those things you brought up just now, I will seriously consider them."
Dr. Yinsen was almost knocked off balance by that pat of his, and hurriedly steadied himself against a rock nearby.
His face, which had still carried a smile, gradually reined it in.
Although Tony's words transitioned a bit awkwardly, this invitation was indeed real and solid.
The old doctor stood in that scorching desert, recalling the experiences these past few days in the dark, sunless cave, and then looked at the young man beside him who had saved his life yet was still in awkwardness.
After not too long a period of thought, a trace of resolution flashed across Dr. Yinsen's wrinkled face, and finally he nodded heavily.
"Alright, looks like we've reached a consensus!"
Seeing Dr. Yinsen agree, Tony clearly breathed a sigh of relief, and no longer had the time to banter with Arthur.
His huge mechanical hand grabbed Dr. Yinsen's arm.
"Hold on tight, old man!"
Following Tony's low shout, he activated the control lever.
Only a loud "Boom—" crash was heard as the crude propulsion system of Mark I spewed two unstable, black-smoke-laced orange-red flames from the bottom of its boots.
The huge thrust lifted this heavy armor together with Dr. Yinsen into mid-air.
They didn't fly too high, just performing low-altitude flight skimming over the undulating dunes.
The sounds of the hydraulic system and jets echoed over the desert, their figures getting smaller and smaller in the distorted heat waves, gradually receding into the distance, until they completely disappeared into the distant golden horizon.