Chapter 191 - CHAPTER 191:The Confrontation Behind the Weapons

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"Tony, but it's illegal…" A murmur echoed beneath the thunderous cheers—a lone voice of doubt barely audible in the chaos.

"I heard that." Tony Stark stepped forward, lifting the microphone with an almost amused smile. "Some of you think it's illegal, and you're not wrong—in most states, private ownership of weapons of mass destruction is banned. But let me be very clear: the War Weapon – Home Edition is something else entirely. Now, to explain it in more detail, I'd like to invite the chairman of our partnered virtual reality company—Shen He."

The spotlight shifted suddenly, casting a beam of white light over Shen He, dimming the cheers almost instantly.

Where Tony brought an easy charisma that loosened shoulders and won over crowds, Shen He's calm, cold demeanor silenced the room, commanding attention with an invisible gravity that made him feel less like a tech executive and more like the enigmatic face of the mighty Chaldea.

"Hello again, everyone," Shen He began, voice composed and smooth, though this time, a subtle shift appeared—he smiled.

"I'm not here as Chaldea's head today, but as the chairman of a virtual reality company, though I imagine most people still don't understand what we actually do."

The smile, paired with Tony still standing confidently at his side, eased the crowd's tension just enough to elicit scattered chuckles.

"Virtual reality company…" Shen He paused dramatically, letting the words sink in. "Yes, it's exactly what it sounds like. Our technology allows human consciousness to enter a simulated space—a Matrix World, if you will, a fully immersive, computer-generated reality."

The silence that followed was surreal, as eyes widened and people leaned toward their neighbors, whispering frantic questions to confirm what they'd just heard.

Then the room erupted, louder even than Tony's original product reveal.

Even in a world saturated with aliens and time travel, the idea of a true virtual world—countless sci-fi stories had flirted with it, The Matrix being the most iconic—felt more intoxicating than fiction. To say Shen He's announcement electrified the world would be an understatement.

A fully immersive alternate reality where thoughts became action struck deeper than any alien invasion ever had. And now it was here, apparently consumer-grade and mass-accessible.

In this hyperconnected age, every person in that room could instantly grasp the implications—this wasn't just technological evolution; it was an existential shift that would reshape society, the economy, warfare, ethics, and human identity itself.

The World Security Council, watching the live broadcast from around the globe, exchanged grim, speechless looks; they didn't need a briefing to understand the risks—mind control, weapons hidden in sleep pods, AI capable of launching automated wars—scenarios once confined to speculative fiction now felt within reach.

And perhaps worst of all, these virtual reality devices were being paired with Tony Stark's personal line of autonomous war machines—a combination that spelled chaos or control, depending entirely on who held the keys.

Amid the frenzy, Shen He remained composed, waiting patiently for the excitement to settle before raising his voice again.

"Yes, many of you may have guessed by now," he said, "this sleep pod is synchronized with a war machine—Tony's latest creation. When someone connects to the pod, they can remotely control the robot without placing their physical body in danger."

The room exploded with renewed intensity as news anchors scrambled, social media feeds erupted, and viewers at home dropped whatever they were holding—the impossible had become real, and more shockingly, purchasable.

Shen He now tossed aside the microphone, letting his unamplified voice carry with sheer force of will.

"We did consider selling these devices solely to the military," he said, "but Tony argued—and I agreed—that in this country, the gap between military and civilian power should not be so vast. Everyone deserves a means to protect themselves."

Tony stepped beside him, his tone cutting through the hysteria like a calm tide through fire.

"That was my call. I shut down Stark Industries' weapons division because I saw what my tech was doing—hurting innocents instead of protecting them. I refuse to repeat that mistake. So if Iron Man can't be everywhere to protect you—this will. My inventions will defend your freedom, not threaten it. That's our constitutional right."

Indeed, the Constitution's vague yet powerful protections allowed for private ownership of defense mechanisms, and now Tony and Shen He offered a version with perfect oversight.

Every function of the robot would be monitored and access controlled by Jarvis, an AI firewall so advanced it had repelled Chitauri invasions and Hydra's deep system intrusions—unless Jarvis was compromised, which was nearly impossible, unlawful use simply wouldn't happen.

And this wasn't the end—it was the beginning.

Applications ranged from rescue operations and crime deterrence to global relief efforts, reframing the product not as a weapon, but as a tool for heroism under tight supervision.

It was Tony's vision finally made real: a world where everyone could be Iron Man.

Still, concerns lingered.

At the heart of it all stood the virtual reality company. Who truly held the power—the user, or the corporation? Who watched the watchers?

Shen He had come prepared.

After the storm of noise subsided again, a reporter asked the inevitable: "Who controls the weapon? You, or the people?"

Shen He responded crisply.

"Two points. First: Chaldea has no interest in ruling the Earth. If we did, we wouldn't need these theatrics—I believe our battles over the past few weeks have proven that clearly enough. Second, Chaldea will not involve itself in product oversight. That role belongs solely to Tony Stark."

That distinction brought a wave of calm across the crowd.

Whatever people felt about Chaldea, Tony Stark was still seen as a global hero—flawed and human, but largely trustworthy.

Tony chimed in.

"Our goal isn't to dominate, but to minimize the weapons gap. And while civilians will get one version, military buyers will receive a separate model with their own administrative controls."

Military brass, who had been whispering among themselves, suddenly stood up sharply.

"Are you saying that's official?" one general barked, grabbing a mic. "You'll sell these directly to foreign powers?"

Tony's smile turned sardonic.

"I am. But I reserve the right to keep certain design specifications proprietary. That way, if someone misuses my tech, I'll know. And for world peace, I won't just sell it to you—I'll sell it to every country I believe will use it responsibly."

The general froze.

The room recoiled in disbelief.

"You… You can't do that! That's treason!" the general shouted. "That violates every national security protocol!"

Tony shrugged with casual finality.

"If that's the official government position, then maybe it's time I consider a new citizenship."

The crowd gasped, but Tony remained unfazed.

Once, Stark Industries had been bound to U.S. soil, but now Tony was the industry; he could relocate tomorrow and rebuild a larger empire within days. Any nation would welcome him—and his tech—with open arms.

This wasn't just a press conference anymore. It was a tectonic shift in global power.

The first point soothed the people.

The second sent a clear message to world powers: cooperate—or fall behind.

Tony never clarified which countries he deemed "responsible," and he didn't need to. The message was unmistakable: unless someone could steal the tech—an impossibility thanks to Jarvis—Tony alone held the reins.

And should any government try to overthrow him after acquiring the machines, they'd quickly discover the harsh truth—these weren't plug-and-play weapons. Without Jarvis' neural links and safety protocols, they were little more than expensive metal statues.

Tony wasn't selling weapons; he was licensing access to a tightly controlled future.

Choose wisely—war, or peace.

But either way, the age of the individual superhero had just been rewritten, and the world would never be the same.

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