Tony Stark was lying on the ground, his Mark 3 armor dented, sparking, and making a noise like a dying washing machine.
But his mind was racing.
"Ten million dollars," Tony thought. "He said yes."
He remembered the diary entries. Lucas wasn't a hero in the traditional sense. He wasn't Captain America, doing it for duty. He was a pragmatist. He wanted money. He wanted stability. He wanted to sunbathe.
And honestly? Tony respected that.
"Ten million is cheap," Tony realized. "If Stane kills me, I lose billions. If Stane destroys the reactor, the world loses trillions."
"This is the best ROI I've ever had."
Meanwhile, Obadiah Stane was staring at Lucas Chen.
The Iron Monger suit towered over the young man. It was a monolith of cold, gray steel. A monument to brutality.
"Where did you come from, insect?" Obadiah sneered. "You think you can stop me? I am the Iron Monger! I am the future!"
He raised his massive fist. The hydraulic pistons hissed. This punch could level a building.
"Die!"
WHOOSH.
The fist descended like a meteor.
Lucas didn't move. He didn't dodge. He simply raised one hand.
One finger.
CLANG!
The sound was deafening. Like a church bell being struck by a sledgehammer.
But Lucas didn't budge. The ground beneath his feet didn't crack. He stood there, holding back two tons of force with his index finger.
"Iron Monger..." Lucas sighed, looking at the hulking machine. "Still as ugly as ever."
"You know what they say," Lucas smiled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Strength is temporary. It changes with the patch notes. But style? Style is forever."
"And you, my bald friend... have zero style."
Obadiah roared in fury. "Style?! I'll show you style! I'll show you my boot on your face!"
He pulled back his fist for another strike.
But Lucas was already moving.
He didn't fly. He flashed.
One moment, he was standing still. The next, he was in the air, right in front of the Iron Monger's chest plate.
"Boring," Lucas whispered.
He pulled back his fist. No fancy technique. Just raw, unadulterated power.
ONE PUNCH.
CRUNCH.
The sound of twisting metal screamed through the air.
Lucas's fist didn't just dent the armor. It went through it.
Like a hot knife through butter, his hand punched through the reinforced titanium chest plate, through the internal circuitry, and out the other side.
The Iron Monger shuddered. Sparks flew like fireworks.
Inside the suit, Obadiah's eyes went wide. He looked down at the fist that had just pierced his invincible armor.
"Impossible..." Obadiah gasped.
"Physics is a suggestion," Lucas whispered.
He pulled his hand back. The Iron Monger collapsed, falling to its knees, then face-planting into the concrete.
The massive machine lay silent. Obadiah Stane was unconscious (or worse). The threat was neutralized.
Tony Stark watched from the ground, his jaw hitting the inside of his helmet.
"Holy..." Tony breathed.
He had run simulations. He had built models. He knew Lucas was strong.
But this?
This was One-Punch Man levels of ridiculous.
"He punched through titanium alloy like it was wet paper," Tony analyzed, his engineer brain struggling to comprehend the data. "No leverage. No momentum. Just... raw force."
"Is there any metal on Earth that can stop him?" Tony wondered. "Vibranium? Maybe. Adamantium? Doubtful."
"And the scariest part?" Tony realized. "He's not even breathing hard. He's bored."
"He treats an Omega-Level threat like a minor inconvenience."
Tony looked at Lucas, who was wiping some oil off his hand with a grimace.
"If this guy ever decides to be a villain," Tony thought, a chill running down his spine, "we are all doomed."
"Anti-Freak Armor," Tony mentally updated the file. "Make it bigger. Make it stronger. And add a 'Run Away' protocol. Just in case."
System Alert (Stark's End):
Threat Neutralized. Payment Pending.
Lucas walked over to Tony and offered a hand.
"That'll be ten million," Lucas grinned. "Do you take Venmo? Or should I send an invoice to Pepper?"
Tony flipped up his faceplate, revealing a bruised and bloody face. But he was smiling.
"I'll write you a check," Tony groaned. "And I'll throw in a new shirt. You got oil on that one."
"Deal," Lucas nodded.
"By the way," Tony asked, looking at the wreckage of the Iron Monger. "What kind of workout routine are you on? Asking for a friend."
"Push-ups," Lucas deadpanned. "Sit-ups. And plenty of juice."
"Sun juice," Tony corrected mentally. "Right."
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