"Sir, based on my findings, this Wenwu is very likely the real Mandarin."
J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice sounded at just the right moment, answering the doubts in both Tony and Peter's minds.
"Just as I thought. Looks like it's finally time to settle things with this Wenwu once and for all."
Tony lightly pressed a hand to his chest. The wound had long since been healed in Wakanda, but phantom pain still struck from time to time. Deep down, there was always a knot he had never spoken of—not even to Pepper. That knot was the Mandarin.
In the past, every "Mandarin" he encountered had been fake. From Obadiah, whom he first suspected, to the hired actor, and then Aldrich Killian.
He had once believed Killian to be the real Mandarin, but deep down, he never accepted it. Killian didn't carry himself like the true leader of a terrorist organization. But now, seeing that symbol again—the real Mandarin had finally surfaced.
Peter could clearly feel the shift in Tony's aura. Normally, Tony carried a carefree, almost playful attitude, much like Karl—spending his days enjoying life. But just now, that changed completely. The surge of battle intent made one thing unmistakably clear—
Iron Man was back.
Since the Sokovia incident, Tony hadn't worn the Iron Man suit again. Even during the Dark Dimension invasion, he hadn't shown up. It had seemed like he had fully returned to his playboy lifestyle.
But now… Iron Man had returned.
---
At the agency, Karl continued living his laid-back life—eating, drinking, and fooling around with the three girls. Every day was leisurely and carefree.
Inside the Chocobo Space, Karl was soaking in a hot spring with them. Onion ran around nearby, occasionally stopping to nibble on flowers and plants in the yard.
Even while soaking, Skye kept her eyes on her laptop. Wanda and Gwen sat beside her, eating fruit while also watching the screen.
"What are you watching?"
Karl casually slipped over, wrapping his arms around the three of them from behind as he leaned in toward the screen.
It was still the same Shang-Chi video from a few days ago. But now, the internet was full of different interpretations—some claiming it was staged, others saying it was part of a movie shoot, with Spider-Man making a cameo. Every kind of theory was floating around.
"What's so interesting about this? Didn't we already watch it?"
Karl didn't get it. They had already watched the livestream together—what was the point of watching it again?
Just as Skye was about to respond, a notification suddenly popped up on the screen—a message icon.
"Huh?"
Skye froze for a moment, then quickly opened it. She hadn't expected it to be a video call.
Given that they were currently soaking in a hot spring—and not wearing anything—the timing couldn't have been worse.
A chorus of startled screams erupted as Skye tossed the laptop aside and ran off with Wanda and Gwen. None of them wanted to be seen like this.
"Karl! Throw that damn laptop away right now! I'm going to find Tony and settle this!!"
Skye roared like an enraged lioness.
This laptop was Stark Industries' latest product—the best in the world, developed in collaboration with Wakanda. And yet it couldn't even distinguish between a video call and a message.
Karl shook his head helplessly. Tony was definitely in trouble this time. Skye might not personally go after him, but reporting it to Pepper? That was guaranteed. Once Pepper heard about this, the system would be updated overnight—and Tony getting a beating would be just as certain.
Seeing that the caller was Tony, Karl didn't really care. It was just guys on the call—nothing to be embarrassed about. Without hesitation, he accepted it.
"Tony, you just ruined a perfectly good moment. So, how are you going to compensate me? …Huh? Peter's there too?"
Even though he picked up, Karl wasn't about to let it slide.
On the other end, Tony and Peter both had dark circles under their eyes, making them look like a pair of pandas.
"Forget that for now. Take a look at this."
Tony immediately shared a file. The cover showed the symbol of the Mandarin.
Karl paused. He thought the Ten Rings organization had already been wiped out. But then it clicked—Killian had never been the real Mandarin. The true one was Shang-Chi's father, Wenwu.
Karl's expression turned serious as he carefully reviewed the materials. These had been compiled overnight by Tony and Peter, combining Natasha's intel with everything J.A.R.V.I.S. could gather.
Compared to what Karl remembered from his past life, these records were far more detailed. After all, movies only glossed over things—real data was much richer.
He had already guessed that Shang-Chi's storyline had begun when he saw the livestream. But he hadn't expected the Avengers to catch wind of Wenwu so early.
In truth, everyone—including Tony—had misunderstood. Wenwu hadn't resurfaced to conquer the world. He was already the king of the underworld. His real goal… was to revive his wife.
The real danger lay in whatever creature he might unleash in the process.
"What are you planning to do?"
Karl asked directly. He knew Tony had never let go of the Mandarin.
"I'm going to completely wipe out the Mandarin and the Ten Rings."
Tony didn't hold anything back.
"Alright then."
Karl didn't argue. There was no way he was staying out of this—Tony had already come knocking.
---
Meanwhile, the Quinjet landed in a secluded area. Shang-Chi and the others stepped out one after another. Once everyone had disembarked, the jet activated its cloaking system and vanished from sight.
"Where to next?"
Natasha glanced around at the forested surroundings.
Shang-Chi pulled out the postcard.
"Here. This is my sister's address."
"Alright. Let's go 'borrow' a car."
Natasha said it casually—and true to form, she didn't mean anything legal.
Sure enough, she swiftly acquired a vehicle and drove them toward their destination.
Along the way, neon lights flickered and the streets buzzed with life. For a brief moment, the tension eased as they took in the night scenery of Macau.
Before long, the car stopped in front of a high-rise building covered in scaffolding.
This was the address written on the postcard.
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