Chapter 323: The News
The kids hadn't thought much of it when they learned Frank had gone out with Jimmy.
But as the hours dragged on and dusk crept in—with neither of them returning and neither answering their phones—the mood in the house shifted from casual to anxious.
If Frank had come back any later, the kids were ready to start calling around.
The police station—to report them missing.
The hospitals—to make sure Frank hadn't collapsed somewhere and been admitted without anyone notifying them.
"It was nothing," Frank said as he stepped inside. "Just went out for a walk. You're all overreacting."
"With your condition?" Fiona shot back. "You know how bad your health is. And Jimmy too—how could he keep you out that long? Where is he, anyway?"
"He had something to deal with at home," Frank replied evenly. "Might not be coming around for a while."
"Oh." Fiona nodded, not thinking much of it. She assumed he meant Jimmy's well-off parents had called him back for something.
Dinner went on as usual—loud, chaotic, full of overlapping conversations.
Then—
"Hmm?"
Frank's gaze shifted to the television.
He stood up, grabbed the remote, and turned up the volume.
The evening news was playing.
What caught his attention wasn't the anchor.
It was a face.
A Russian man.
Ivan.
The same Ivan who had ridden back with him during the last shipment run. The one who had paid for drinks with a design blueprint before they parted ways.
Frank had a sharp memory for faces—and he was certain.
Ivan's portrait was on the screen.
Frank frowned.
How did he end up on the news?
A memory surfaced.
Before they split up, Ivan had said something cryptic—
"You'll be seeing me again soon."
On the television, a congressman was mid-rant:
"This incident proves that Mr. Stark's technology can be replicated! And yet he continues to treat Iron Man like a toy—parading around during Senate hearings like some reckless showman—"
Frank narrowed his eyes.
So that's how.
Ivan hadn't been bragging.
He'd been planning.
Watching the news coverage, Frank quickly pieced together what had happened.
It was connected to the man currently dominating headlines—Iron Man, a.k.a. Tony Stark.
Not long ago, a high-profile racing event had been held in Monaco, and Stark had personally entered the competition.
During the race, a man suddenly appeared on the track and launched an attack.
That attacker was Ivan.
The news replayed footage from the incident.
Ivan wore a suit of armor as well—but unlike Iron Man's sleek, fully enclosed exosuit, his gear looked crude and improvised. It was more like a half-body harness made of exposed metal frameworks. In his hands, he wielded two crackling plasma whips.
With a single swing, he could slice a race car clean in half.
Even after Stark suited up as Iron Man, the whips tore into the armor with terrifying force, each strike visibly punishing.
In the end, however, Ivan was subdued and arrested.
His face had since appeared across every major media outlet.
On the smuggling truck ride weeks ago, Ivan had told Frank he was heading to New York for revenge.
Now it was clear.
His target had been the world-famous billionaire playboy—Iron Man himself.
Frank didn't know how that Russian powerhouse had become enemies with Stark, but from the looks of it, Ivan's revenge had failed. He was behind bars.
Then again… perhaps not entirely.
Because the aftermath was only beginning.
The media had given Ivan a nickname—"Whiplash."
And now, nearly every major news outlet was using the incident as ammunition against Stark. It almost felt like someone behind the scenes was steering public opinion.
Strictly speaking, Whiplash's equipment wasn't the same as Iron Man's.
Iron Man wore a fully sealed, flight-capable armored suit.
Whiplash's setup was rough, skeletal—metal braces strapped to his body, cables feeding power to the twin energy whips.
So why was the press using Whiplash to attack Stark?
Because on Whiplash's chest was something unmistakable.
A miniature arc reactor.
The arc reactor—a compact, palm-sized device capable of generating enormous energy output, similar to a cold-fusion reactor—was the core of Stark's technology. Traditional reactors were massive industrial installations. Stark had compressed that power into something small enough to fit in his chest.
In truth, Iron Man's armor could be imitated—at least superficially. Hobbyists and engineers had already built impressive replicas of the outer shell.
But there was one thing no one could replicate.
The arc reactor.
Cars need fuel. Kitchens need gas or electricity.
Armor needs power.
Attempts to build single-soldier powered armor dated back decades—even as early as the 1990s. But every project had ultimately failed for one reason: energy supply.
Batteries were useless. They'd drain in minutes.
To function, the suit required a compact, portable, high-output power source.
The arc reactor was the perfect solution.
And it was supposed to belong to Stark alone.
Just like Walter's Blue Angel formula—exclusive, irreplaceable.
Governments and powerful organizations had tried to obtain the technology. Hearings had been held to pressure Stark into surrendering it. But Stark had deflected every move. At one hearing, he had even arrogantly declared that no one would be able to replicate his tech for at least ten years.
And now?
Whiplash appeared with an identical miniature arc reactor mounted on his chest.
A public slap in the face.
Stark's critics seized the opportunity and attacked relentlessly.
And the imprisoned Ivan?
He would undoubtedly become the focus of many powerful interests.
Frank watched the coverage carefully, a different concern forming in his mind.
Would this somehow implicate him?
After all, he had met Ivan.
And Ivan had given him a blueprint.
"…No. Wait." Frank suddenly froze, a thought striking him.
"Dad, what're you watching?" Lip walked over, dropped onto the couch, grabbed a snack, and glanced at the screen casually.
Then—
His eyes locked onto something.
On the glowing miniature arc reactor embedded in Iron Man's chest.
And he went still.