Since that impromptu "Justice Show" in Gulmira, the atmosphere between Tony Stark and Obadiah had fallen into an eerie calm.
It was as if nothing had ever happened.
However, the undercurrents beneath the surface were already surging toward the brink of bursting the dam.
At Tony's behest, Pepper Potts quietly initiated a top-level audit of Stark Industries' internal finances.
This scalpel, wielded by Pepper herself, was precise and sharp, cutting into the company's vitals with every stroke. Everyone thought this was Tony's thunderous method of cleaning up the company's chaos after his return; only Pepper knew it was more like a war without smoke.
Her target was aimed directly at the spiderweb-like financial chains surrounding the now-defunct weapons division.
Just one week.
Countless "ghost accounts," "third-party shipping companies," and "unreconciled R&D expenditures" were dragged out from the books like venomous snakes lurking in the gutters.
All clues pointed obscurely toward one person—the company's second-in-command, Obadiah Stane.
Finally, as Pepper's audit storm was about to tear away the last fig leaf, Obadiah could no longer sit still.
He personally came to Tony's mansion in Malibu.
"Tony, you have to make Pepper stop."
Obadiah unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat tiredly on the sofa, his face wearing the earnest concern typical of an elder.
"She's too tense, kid. She's practically turning the whole company upside down. The board already has major complaints; this will affect our stock price."
"Just cleaning house, Obie." Tony held a glass of whiskey, his back to him, as he idly tinkered with parts on the workbench. "You know, while I was away these past few months, a lot of dirty rats got into the house."
The kindly smile on Obadiah's face stiffened for a moment.
"Those are just normal business operational losses, Tony, you have to learn to understand." He deepened his tone. "I'll handle the board. Make Pepper stop; it's for the good of the company, and for your own good."
"For my own good?"
Tony turned around, a cold arc hanging at the corner of his mouth.
"Just like in Afghanistan, Obie?"
With one sentence, the air in the room instantly froze.
Obadiah's pupils constricted sharply, and for the first time, an undisguised gloom appeared on that benevolent face.
He realized that the foolish Fortune Teller had already stripped away all the disguises he thought were perfect.
The cards were on the table.
He slowly stood up, straightened his tie, and the mask on his face vanished completely, replaced by a coldness born of being driven into a corner.
"Tony, I gave you a chance."
He gave Tony a deep look, said nothing more, and turned to leave.
Watching the door slam shut, Tony picked up his glass and drained the whiskey in one gulp.
Negotiations had broken down.
The Beast had hidden the blood and later bared its fangs; now, it had lost its final patience and was ready to pounce.
And this was exactly what he wanted... That night, Tony dialed Lin Huai's encrypted line.
"That old fox is getting desperate. According to your script, what's his next move?"
"A Beast cornered in its den will do whatever it takes to seize the weapon it believes can turn the tide," Lin Huai's voice was calm and steady.
Tony smiled, his eyes flashing with a Hunter-like glint.
"You're right. Since he wants my 'heart' so badly, I'll make one myself and give it to him as a gift."
At Lin Huai's suggestion, a crazy "fishing" plan was set in motion.
Tony locked himself in the lab, for the first time not to build armor, but to create a bait realistic enough to deceive.
Using the old, primitive arc reactor as a prototype, he used the best materials to meticulously craft a brand-new reactor that looked exactly the same.
"Jarvis," Tony's eyes sparkled with mischief, "add a little something to this baby. Build in a military-grade tracking chip and a short-circuit module. I want to be able to turn it into a piece of scrap metal whenever I feel like it. The tracking chip is for him to find—after all, they're Stark Industries elites—but the key is the short-circuit module. Make it discreet."
The bait was ready.
Late one night, two days later.
A piercing alarm shattered the tranquility of Malibu beach!
"Sir! The estate's perimeter defenses have been breached! Unidentified armed personnel are approaching at high speed!" Jarvis's calm voice echoed in the workshop.
"They're here."
Far from being panicked, Tony sat leisurely on the bedroom sofa on the other side of the estate, as if watching a carefully choreographed movie premiere. The holographic screen in front of him displayed all the surveillance footage from inside and outside the mansion.
A team of well-equipped mercenaries, with textbook tactical movements, broke into the mansion from three directions simultaneously. No words, no wasted motions, their objective was clear—straight for the underground lab!
Bang!
The heavy alloy door of the lab was blown open with directional explosives.
The mercenaries filed in, heading straight for the display stand Tony had placed in the most conspicuous spot.
There, the brand-new "heart," emitting a faint blue glow, rested quietly on a velvet pedestal.
The lead mercenary took out a specialized case and carefully secured the reactor inside.
"Target acquired! Retreat!"
The operation was clean and efficient; from break-in to extraction, the whole process took less than three minutes.
Gunfire broke out outside—a plot point Tony had specifically added for this performance.
Heavy firepower rained down on the mercenaries, but it suddenly felt as though the momentum couldn't be sustained.
During the retreat, one team member, providing cover, swept an alloy briefcase containing various experimental reports and samples from the workbench into his backpack—it would buy them a few precious seconds of chaos.
By the time the sound of police helicopter rotors approached from the distance, the ghostly team of attackers had already vanished into the night.
"Nicely done."
Tony watched the surveillance footage and snapped his fingers with satisfaction.
"Jarvis, track the signal. Let's see where this 'heart' is being taken."
The plan was practically perfect.
He was even a bit smug, preparing to pour himself a glass of celebratory champagne.
Just then, Jarvis's voice spoke again, this time with a "gravity" that felt uncharacteristic of his programming.
"Sir, I suggest you perform an inventory check of the lab first."
Tony paused, a bad premonition rising in his heart.
He walked quickly to the cluttered workbench, his eyes scanning it rapidly.
"Wait... that case..."
His gaze finally fixed on an empty spot.
"That A-7 alloy briefcase, containing my analysis reports on the whispering leech ash and all the samples... where did it go?!"
Jarvis replied calmly, "Sir, according to the surveillance playback, it was taken by one of the armed personnel along with the case containing the bait during the retreat."
The smugness on Tony's face instantly froze.
That sickening feeling of shooting himself in the foot made him almost crush the glass in his hand.
"Shit!"
An angry curse echoed through the empty lab.