Chapter 824: I’m Sorry, I’m Not Tony Stark

After Tony was killed, Obadiah could continue to maintain the illusion that the tyc.o.o.n had died from illness, and then announce that Stark’s weapons manufacturing division would be restored. Then, they could recoup their losses.

However, Luke couldn’t help but shake his head when he saw the camera footage from the sky above Tony’s villa.

On the screen, bright fire streaked across the night sky near Tony’s villa and flew west.

To the west of Los Angeles was the ocean.

Of course, after crossing over the ocean, the mountains and the mult.i.tudes, it would reach Afghanistan.

Tony was going back to get revenge.

Although Luke had eliminated all the guys in the valley, Ten Rings had more than just those two hundred people.

In fact, as the top terrorist organization in Asia, Ten Rings had at least 12,000 members in Afghanistan.

The bunch that Luke had killed was just one of the smaller branches, and had little impact on Ten Rings as a whole.

Tony wanted revenge; the question was the extent to which he would go.

But Luke didn’t think that the tyc.o.o.n would be as resolute as Luke himself was. He would get rid of several hundred terrorists at most before he stopped.

But then Luke saw how a certain tyc.o.o.n didn’t get any sleep in the middle of the night as he was set on playing with intercontinental flight; not only wasn’t he sick, he was conversely very lively.

Luke couldn’t help but laugh. “Want this guy to take a break? It’ll be twenty years at the very least; Obadiah might die from waiting. Hm, doesn’t that mean Tony will have to work until he’s sixty? Maybe he’ll be a superhero for fifteen years; retiring at fifty would be good.”

He wasn’t worried about Tony.

The tyc.o.o.n’s luck had returned to normal, plus he had that pager. He would be heavily injured at most. It wouldn’t be that easy for him to die.

The next day, a certain bald bigshot read the news and wasn’t as relaxed as Luke.

A spokesman on the news claimed that the US military hadn’t launched any attacks near Gulmira yesterday, and that everything was just an internal conflict between terrorists who were trying to frame the US military.

Obadiah narrowed his eyes and made a call to confirm Tony’s movements last night.

After hanging up, he sneered. “Tony, Tony! What are you doing? You shut down the weapons division, but you created the most powerful weapon yourself and used it to sabotage my business. You brat, you always like to hide things from people.”

He then made another call. “How’s the research going? Why not? I’ll be right there.”

Twenty minutes later, Obadiah arrived at a laboratory in Stark Industries. He asked a middle-aged man in a white coat and gla.s.ses, “What happened?”

The bespectacled man was a little helpless. “Mr. Stan, we have a little problem.”

Obadiah asked, “What problem?”

“It’s the power supply. In fact, the technology to power this suit hasn’t appeared yet…” the middle-aged man explained hesitantly.

Obadiah grabbed him and pointed at a huge thing in front of them with his other hand. “Wait, it hasn’t appeared? William, it’s right in front of you. I just need you to make it a little smaller and put it in the armor.”

The bespectacled man looked at the enormous thing in front of him awkwardly. It was a giant electric generator with a diameter of more than five meters and a height of three meters.

He then looked at the basic shape of the suit not far away. It was only three meters tall and one meter in diameter, and the hole in its chest was only ten centimeters in diameter and height.

You f*cking call that making it a little smaller? This generator is several times bigger than your armor, not to mention that you want to shrink it to fit into the hole in the chest.

This requirement was as unscientific as shrinking the first computer from the 1940s into the current laptop.

After all, computers had been in development for seventy years, and he had only taken over the armor manufacturing project for half a month.

Computer research was pushed forward by wave after wave of scientists all over the world, but he only had a few dozen people in this laboratory.

You might as well feed hens and have them lay golden eggs for you!

The bespectacled William couldn’t help but curse inwardly. A boss who didn’t know any skills really sounded like an idiot when he spoke!

“Yes, sir. We’ve tried our best, but to be honest, we can’t do it.” Obadiah, the technological idiot, despaired, and William could only give him a blunt negative answer.

Veins popped on Obadiah’s forehead as he leaned forward and looked down at William, who was a head shorter than him. “Stark built one this small in a cave with a bunch of sc.r.a.ps.”

He couldn’t help but make a circle in his hand which was roughly the size of the reactor in Tony’s chest.

William leaned back and said innocently, “I’m sorry. I’m not Tony Stark.”

He had no choice but to tell the truth when it came to skills.

If an idiot thought that just anyone could replace Tony Stark, that only meant that this person didn’t know anything about science.

Like the mathematician Fermat who came up with Fermat’s Last Theorem three hundred years ago, and had cheekily written on the side, “As to this, I have discovered a truly marvelous proof which unfortunately cannot be contained in this narrow margin.”

In the end, it seemed that Ferrat had invented this theorem on a whim, and it took three hundred years for someone to prove it.

A scientific breakthrough could only be driven by a few super geniuses.

Without these people, ordinary people wouldn’t be able to make any progress in a hundred years even if they had the concrete thing and the theory.

William knew very well that he was very smart. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be the head of a research department at Stark Industries.

But compared with a genius like Tony Stark, the difference in talent was even greater than between primitive and modern people.

Obadiah’s eyes widened and he was lost for words.

He actually wasn’t dumb.

He had been suppressed by Tony’s father in the past, and hadn’t been able to enjoy the pleasures of power.

Later, when Howard Stark finally died, Tony showed up and occupied that position.

Obadiah had endured for decades, and it had always been hard for him.

It wasn’t because he was magnanimous, but because the father and son were irreplaceable.

Letting go of the chicken-like William, he mumbled, “That’s right, you’re not. We have to rely on ourselves.”

As he spoke, he strode out of the laboratory, leaving a confused William behind. The tyc.o.o.n had just gone crazy. Was Mr. Stane crazy too? If that was the case, there went his job.

At the same time, in Tony’s villa, Pepper sighed and her shoulders drooped as she faced a serious Tony. “Do you know? You’re everything to me. I’m willing to do anything for you.”

As she spoke, she placed the object on the table, picked up Tony’s special decoder, and left.

Tony looked at what Pepper had put down. It was the crude arc reactor that had been switched out.

At that moment, it was on a stand under a gla.s.s cover, like a trophy.

His expression was complicated, and his thoughts were in a mess.