Killian's hand turned fiery red at first, before it turned bright orange, and the heat quickly spread from his hand to the lower abdomen of the armor.
Inside the armor, Colonel Rode, the emotionless roasting machine, instantly felt his abdomen heat up, and an uncontrollable thought popped up in his head.
"No, I can't move, I can't move," he mumbled through gritted teeth, but beads of sweat gradually appeared on his face, and his heart was filled with helplessness.
The armor had been set up with a self-protection function.
Once certain systems were severely damaged, it would automatically turn on to prevent the wearer from suffocating to death.
Killian had long known about this because this set of armor was previously maintained by AIM.
Colonel Rode was like the mother of someone in the Department of Defense. Damn it, can you stop letting these supervillains touch your precious armor every time? Is there still law? Is there still law?
But patience was useless in the end.
In less than a minute, Colonel Rode, who felt his iron pants heat up, was "spat" out by the armor.
Struggling on his deathbed, Colonel Rode jumped up and kicked away a criminal in front of him.
On the side, Killian, who had already expected this, opened his mouth and used the divine Indian "fire breath" technique to burn a table in front of Rode to ashes.
The emotionless Colonel Rode decisively raised one hand and frantically tugged at his pants with the other to cool off his almost cooked bird as quickly as possible.
At the same time, he put on an awkward smile. "Wow, you can even breathe fire. How annoying."
Killian smiled disdainfully and gestured at his subordinates. "Lock him up in the dungeon first."
Colonel Rode, who had almost been roasted, had no choice but to be taken away obediently.
Killian then clapped his hands. "Okay, the master has arrived. It's time for him to finish his last act." He then walked to the hall.
A dozen people followed him into the hall, and they even dragged a middle-aged man in and threw him on the ground. A little old man finally came in and sat down on a chair. It was none other than Trevor Slater, the drama lover whom Luke had found out about.
The guy glanced at Killian with an erratic gaze before he continued to sit in his chair in a daze.
Killian frowned. "Is he high?"
One of his subordinates stepped forward and said in a low voice, "No, the master just played gunfights with two girls last night and drank a few cans of beer."
Speechless for a moment, Killian waved his hand. "Let's begin."
Trevor's expression changed when he was reminded.
At this moment, his eyes were deep, his face was solemn, and the corners of his mouth were slightly pursed. He sat upright on the chair and casually stretched out a leg to step on the middle-aged man who had been pulled in.
As soon as the pose was done, the camera opposite them started filming.
Trevor spoke in a low and magnetic voice, "... Do you know fortune cookies? Fortune cookies are not Chinese food. They are made in America according to Neon recipes. They taste terrible. This is a complete lie. Now, I'm going to tell you another American lie … "
At the same time, the new tenant of the White House, the American mogul, Ellis, was also watching this scene.
"Are you looking at him? Thomas Richard, accountant for Roxxon. " Trevor pointed his gun at the middle-aged man. "Mr. President, connect to this phone in 30 seconds. Then he can live."
Very soon, a gunshot rang out, and Trevor continued, "You've made your choice, Mr. President. Next is the last lesson. You will lose a lot, and America will lose a lot. Your Iron Man won't be able to save it all. We'll meet again very soon. "
The image disappeared, and Ellis put down his phone on Air Force One with a heavy expression.
Of course, this was just for show.
The United States never negotiated with terrorists. This was the same for all the major powers in the world, because it would only lead to more hostage-taking.
Even if the person being held hostage this time was an accountant from Roxon, who was already part of the upper class and had some status, it still wouldn't make a difference.
In fact, apart from the hundreds of super bigwigs who controlled the lifeblood of American society, the outcome would be the same if this person was a general or a state senator.
As long as the country sent people to rescue them, it didn't matter if the hostage was dead or alive.
Those who were involved in similar incidents had better pray that they ran into superheroes who took pleasure in saving people, or they would have to rely on their luck to survive.
Luke and Tony had also watched the live TV broadcast, which was why Luke had encouraged Tony to give Dr. Hansen an injection. In any case, it wasn't like the tycoon hadn't given her an injection before.
Unfortunately, the tycoon was too principled to help a certain someone.
…
At the same time, far away in New York, after confirming that Tony was "unscathed," Pepper immediately helped him deal with the inquiries from various parties.
Whether Tony was seriously injured or dead, it would be a huge earthquake for Stark Industries.
She had to appease the corporation's partners and prevent them from kicking her when she was down.
For a moment, Pepper had no choice but to run around New York.
It just so happened that the Soderbergs were holding a private charity party tonight. A large number of celebrities and bigwigs were gathered there, so Pepper made a trip down.
She just had to ask her assistant to make a donation. All she needed to do was communicate with a bunch of people before the party started.
Thus, Pepper arrived early.
While she was talking to the partners who had arrived early, a small team of people snuck into the second floor from the side door of the party. They then melted through the floor from a room on the second floor and entered an empty room on the first floor.
After changing into waiters' clothes, the eight of them filed out and quickly entered the party hall with trays of drinks and food.
A few minutes later, one of the short-haired women listened to the information she had just forced out of her earpiece. She quickly stepped forward and whispered to Pepper, who had just finished talking, "Director Michael of Cassandra Industries is waiting for you in Reception Room 2, Ms. Potts."
Pepper hummed in acknowledgment and looked at the door of Reception Room 2. Director Michael was waiting for her at the door with a fake smile on his face.
However, capitalists didn't smile much to begin with, so she didn't mind and walked over with two security guards.
When she and the two security guards entered Reception Room 2 and the door closed behind them, something happened.
The two security guards were grabbed by the back of their necks by two waiters who had followed them in. Their necks instantly deformed and they died on the spot.
Pepper: "You … ugh."
One of the waiters covered her mouth, and the other took out restraints and tied her hands and feet up.
Director Michael was also tied up. Pepper immediately understood: No wonder his smile had been so fake when he had been waiting at the door earlier. It turned out that he had been held hostage to trick her.
Then, the small team quickly picked up Pepper and opened the door to the room next to the reception room. They worked together and quickly burned through the wall in their way before slipping out from the side.
Pepper could only whimper helplessly and watch helplessly as she was smuggled out of the charity party.
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
