Jarvis fell silent for a second: "Alright, sir, executing now."
Tony turned to look at Happy: "Happy, you leave immediately, go back to New York, and go to the hospital for a comprehensive checkup."
Happy opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but seeing Tony's gaze, he swallowed his words back down.
"Yes, Boss." He turned around and walked toward the door. When he reached the door, he stopped and looked back at Tony.
"Boss... Be careful."
Tony waved his hand: "Rest assured, I am not alone."
Happy glanced at the three of Mavuika, nodded, pushed the door open, and left.
Only Tony, Mavuika, Thor, and Loki were left in the living room.
Tony sat down on the sofa, crossed his legs, picked up the remote control on the coffee table, and turned on the television.
The news channel was already broadcasting The Mandarin's terror declaration, the host's voice carried a hint of trembling, and the experts in the studio were fiercely discussing it.
Tony changed the channel, and another channel was broadcasting it too. He changed it again, and it was still the same.
The entire United States, the media of the entire World, were all broadcasting this video.
"This guy really knows how to build momentum." Tony curled his lips.
Loki sat back down on the sofa, picked up the cup of tea that had already gone cold, and took a sip: "Building momentum is one thing, whether he has real skills is another."
Thor, carrying Mjolnir on his shoulder, paced back and forth in the living room: "Do you think they will come tonight?"
Loki glanced at him: "If that The Mandarin is truly as arrogant as he claims, he will come. Because he cannot let the entire World see him shrink back after issuing a provocation."
Thor nodded: "Makes sense."
Mavuika had been quietly sitting on the sofa, looking at the night scenery outside the window.
Time passed minute by minute.
The sky completely darkened, the streetlights in the Villa area lit up, casting a dim yellow halo in the night. In the distance, the city of Miami was brightly lit, resembling a dazzling sea of stars.
Tony sat on the sofa, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand, but did not drink it.
His gaze remained fixed outside the window, occasionally lowering his head to glance at the smart watch on his wrist — that was the terminal connected with Jarvis, monitoring everything around the Villa in real time.
"Sir, there is an anomaly." Jarvis's voice suddenly sounded.
Tony put down his wine glass: "Speak."
"Two helicopters are approaching the Villa area, flying at a very low altitude, without turning on identification signals, and are expected to arrive within three minutes."
Tony stood up and walked to the window. Thor, carrying his hammer, walked to his side, and Loki stood up from the sofa, adjusting his collar.
Mavuika was still sitting on the sofa, but his eyes were already looking outside the window.
"How many people?" Tony asked.
"Thermal imaging shows there are eight to ten people on each helicopter, and the body temperature of every single person is abnormally high — averaging above forty degrees, with the highest one approaching fifty degrees."
Tony's brows knitted together. Fifty degrees? That was a temperature humans could not endure.
Unless... they were not ordinary people.
"The person who attacked Happy today also had a very high body temperature," Mavuika said.
"His highest body temperature approaches three thousand degrees, these people should have the same ability."
"Three thousand degrees?!"
Tony's pupils constricted slightly.
How high of a temperature could his armor withstand? Three thousand degrees — it had already exceeded the armor's tolerance limit.
Tony took a deep breath and walked toward the corner. There lay a silver briefcase, which he had brought from New York.
He opened the case and pressed the button inside.
A few seconds later, Tony Stark disappeared, replaced by a red and gold iron armor.
The faceplate lowered, and a blue glow lit up where Tony's eyes were located.
"Come on." He said.
The roaring sound of the helicopters grew closer and closer.
Two black helicopters emerged from the night sky without turning on their lights, skimming across the sky above the Villa area like two giant black birds.
The violent wind whipped up by the rotors blew the trees in the courtyard crookedly, and huge ripples washed across the surface of the swimming pool.
The helicopters hovered above the Villa, the cabin doors opened, and a dozen dark figures descended from the sky.
The way they landed was very special — they didn't jump down, they smashed down.
Every person's landing smashed a shallow pit into the ground, and concrete fragments splattered in all directions.
They stood up, patted the dust off their bodies, as if nothing had happened.
Tony looked at these people through the armor's sensors, his brows tightly locked.
An ordinary person's bones would have shattered long ago jumping down from that height.
But the physical strength of these people far exceeded ordinary people.
There were fifteen in total.
There were both men and women, wearing uniform black combat uniforms, their skin presenting an abnormal dark red color, emitting a scorching aura all over their bodies.
Their eyes flickered with red light in the night, like fifteen evil ghosts from hell.
Then, a person jumped down from the helicopter.
His landing was heavier than the others, and the ground under his feet depressed into a half-meter-deep pit.
He raised his head and looked at the French windows of the Villa. On that face, there was an almost morbid, fanatical smile.
Killian.
Aldrich Killian.
The founder of the AIM organization, the creator of Extremis.
The Mandarin was merely a persona he fabricated to create terror, to attract the World's attention, and to cover up his true purpose.
He was the true mastermind behind the scenes, the culprit of all this.
More than a decade ago, he used to be a scientist rejected by Tony Stark.
That night, he stood on the roof of Stark Tower, the cold wind biting, and he waited for a whole night, waiting for Tony to come see him.
Tony did not come.
He waited on the roof until dawn, then left alone.
At that moment, he swore — one day, he would make Tony Stark pay the price!
Now, this day had finally arrived.
Killian walked up to the Villa door and raised his hand.
His hand turned fiery red, like a piece of red-hot iron.
With a gentle push from him, that heavy solid wood door instantly carbonized, shattered, and turned to ashes under the high temperature.
He stepped into the Villa.
In the living room, Tony stood in the center, the red and gold armor shimmering with a chilly metallic luster under the lights.
Thor stood on his left, holding Mjolnir in his hand, with electric light faintly flashing on the hammer head.
Loki stood on his right, arms crossed over his chest, a half-smile hanging on the corner of his mouth.
Mavuika was sitting on the sofa, not even standing up. He was holding a cup of tea in his hand, sipping it in small sips, as if what had entered weren't fifteen super soldiers, but a group of lost tourists.
Killian's gaze moved from Tony to Thor, then to Loki, and finally landed on Mavuika.
He looked at Mavuika, his brows furrowing slightly. Then he smiled.
"Tony Stark," he spread his arms, as if embracing an old friend, "long time no see."
"And several unfamiliar friends, are these the helpers you found?"
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