A time traveler arrives in the Multiverse with an ability that turns confident assumptions into reality. If he believes an ordinary object should perform an impossible task, the rules of the world may simply adjust to make it happen. A bicycle can rise into the sky, common equipment can behave far beyond its normal limits, and even the human body can ignore expectations that should be absolute. The power sounds convenient, but every new idea raises a larger question: if reality keeps obeying what he thinks is “scientific,” how long will it be before no one—including him—can tell where logic ends and imagination begins?
Chapter 45: 044: Stark’s New Armor
After some maneuvering, the dark-haired Nick Fury managed to assign Level 7 agent Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, to work alongside Pepper Potts. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to assign someone to Stark’s side; rather, the playboy had been holed up at home lately, tinkering with who knows what, making it impossible to get in touch with him—so this was the best option for now. As for Alexander Pierce—former director of S. H. I. E. L. D. and one of the leaders of HYDRA—once he learned of Nick Fury’s actions, he decided not to make any unnecessary moves. After all, whatever intelligence Fury uncovered, he’d share it anyway, so why waste the effort? Unaware that he was being watched, Tony Stark was currently at home upgrading his Iron Man suit. To be precise, he was replacing it with a new one. The first issue to address with the Mark III was, of course, the problem of freezing at high altitudes—which wasn’t difficult for Stark to solve. Next was the issue of firepower, which was also no problem for Tony Stark, a former arms dealer. Next up was solving the noise issue that was making his head buzz. Stark first had JARVIS install a layer of soundproofing foam inside the suit. After running some calculations, he realized it might still be a bit noisy, so to be on the safe side, he added another layer of shock-absorbing material. However, the addition of these two layers made the Mark III look considerably bulkier. While it wasn’t as clunky as the Mark I, it was still quite a hulking affair. If the padding had been added only inside the helmet, it would have resulted in a strange design with an unusually large head. “Hmm… This is a little different from what I had in mind…” Compared to this bulky design, Tony Stark preferred the Mark II’s form-fitting, streamlined design. After much deliberation, Stark removed the relatively thick soundproofing foam and decided to develop a separate “anti-brat” suit later on, at which point he would incorporate the soundproofing foam design. “Sir, I think you should try Vibranium.” Jarvis suddenly chimed in. “Oh! That’s right!” Stark slapped his forehead—he’d completely forgotten about Wakanda. Although vibranium was expensive, it was really no big deal for Tony Stark. “Do we have any in stock?” “You purchased some earlier for experiments, and there’s a little left,” Jarvis replied matter-of-factly. “It’s not enough to build an entire Iron Man suit, but I think you could just incorporate it into the helmet, sir.” “Give him a ton or two for now, and we’ll buy more if it’s not enough.” Tony Stark, a big spender, waved his hand dismissively and cheerfully instructed JARVIS to place the order. “I’m afraid, sir, that Wakanda’s vibranium is sold in limited quantities. However, it can still be purchased from smugglers, though the exact amount is currently uncertain.” “Then buy as much as you can—whatever you can get your hands on.” Stark didn’t think much of it—as long as he had enough to build his armor, that was all that mattered. As for the Mark III, he’d have to settle for incorporating vibranium into only the most critical components for now, using titanium alloy to make do with the rest. Stark planned to start working on the Mark IV as soon as the new vibranium arrived. He, Tony Stark, wasn’t short on money. The design work continued. The issue of close-quarters combat still needed to be addressed. Tony Stark not only loaded the Mark III with a massive amount of martial arts data but also equipped its limbs with small thrusters that could adjust their angle to increase the offensive power of each movement. “Let’s add an electric shock device!” Recalling the peculiar power behind Pota’s soft, flabby fists, Tony Stark snapped his fingers and said to JARVIS. Finally, it was time to paint the suit. The “low-key” Tony Stark drew inspiration from his classic car and chose a “plain” red-and-gold color scheme for the Mark III. “All right, that’ll take about five hours.” Once the design was complete, JARVIS provided the manufacturing time estimate. Just then, Stark saw a news report on TV about a cocktail party he had hosted—but had no memory of. He heard a reporter on TV say, “No one expects him to show up.” Stark decided on the spur of the moment to attend this cocktail party, even though he had no idea what to expect. However, when he arrived at the party full of enthusiasm, he received news that left him feeling disheartened—Stark Industries was still selling weapons to the very same group of terrorists who had attacked him in the Middle East. Back at his mansion, Stark decided to don the Mark III and head to the Middle East himself to take out those terrorists. “Kraft, Stark is back.” After beating up Tony Stark, Kraft had placed his “tin man” under special surveillance, so the moment the Iron Man suit appeared in the skies over New York, Angela reported it to Kraft. “Huff… huff… W-what’s going on?” Kraft, who was following his training regimen and had locked himself onto the “All or Nothing” treadmill, asked, panting heavily. “Can’t say for sure yet,” Angela said as she switched to the radar feed and projected the screen onto the wall in front of Kraft. “Preliminary analysis suggests his target is the town of Gemira in the Middle East.” As she spoke, Angela played the latest news reports on the town of Gemira for Kraft to watch. “So… so… is he going to… huff, puff… strike at ter-ro-rists…?” Kraft had run himself out of breath; he leaned his hands on the cage bars, drenched in sweat. “Hey, Angela, could you… could you please help me turn this thing off first… huff, huff… I’ll make up for it later…” “Sorry, Kraft, your treadmill isn’t connected to the internet, so I can’t control it. Besides, you only have to hold on for another four minutes and thirty-seven seconds to finish.” Kraft: “Ugh!” I must have been out of my mind to build such an inhumane treadmill! Four minutes later, an exhausted Kraft crawled off the “All or Nothing” treadmill. “Recharge, recharge.” Harlow thoughtfully ran over to him, holding a can of energy drink. After resting on the floor for a moment, Kraft got to his feet and began pacing slowly around the lab while sipping the energy drink Harlow had brought him. “Where’s Stark now?” “The target has already left the United States,” Angela switched back to the radar screen; a small dot was moving toward the Mediterranean at a speed visible to the naked eye. “If our assumptions are correct, it’s expected to reach its destination in about three hours.” “That’s pretty fast.” Kraft took a big gulp of the energy drink. During their earlier confrontation, Stark hadn’t shown this kind of speed—but then again, given Stark’s arrogant nature, running away wasn’t really his style. “So is he planning to seek revenge on the people who kidnapped him?” Kraft certainly didn’t think Tony Stark was heading to the Middle East in the middle of the night wearing his Iron Man suit just to introduce new gear to that group of so-called freedom fighters or provide some kind of after-sales service… No, maybe this could count as after-sales service? After all, they were “online friends” who’d arranged a fight, so Kraft raised his energy drink toward the tiny speck of light on the screen. “Wish you… good luck in battle.” In the movies, Black Widow wasn’t assigned to Stark until the second installment, but as mentioned earlier, S. H. I. E. L. D. had already taken notice of Stark, so Black Widow’s assignment naturally had to come earlier. There are no specific speed figures for the Mark III, but in the movie, it didn’t manage to shake off the F-22—yet it was just a tad faster than the F-22—so I’ve estimated its speed at roughly Mach 3. The phrase “may your martial fortune flourish” is likely unique to Japanese, though it appears to have been adapted from classical Chinese literature. Since this phrase carries more grandeur, I chose to use it—especially since Kraft is portrayed as a master of languages.
