After finishing his talk with Smith Dole, Tony returned to the stands.
Moments later, another Iron Man suit dropped from orbit, drawing every gaze.
But Tony didn't swap suits immediately. Instead, he stepped backstage out of sight. When he reemerged, he was clad in a fresh model—sleek, polished, and gleaming.
Xialing muttered, "Shameless… that's his third suit. Is he just going to swap every time he loses?"
Wenwu chuckled at his daughter's indignation. "Let him. Change ten suits or a hundred, the outcome stays the same."
Just before the next round, Tina finally stirred. The madness in her eyes faded, leaving confusion. She blinked at the empty arena, at her feet outside the ring.
"My Mahd Wy'ry acted up?"
She looked up at the holo-screen. Her icon dimmed, her Dragon Ball count gone.
"…So I lost."
Disappointment weighed heavy. She had entered believing she could win it all, yet she had only one victory—then defeat at Wenwu's hands, and another loss to Tony thanks to her affliction.
Gilgamesh smiled warmly as she returned. "At least you recovered quickly this time."
Ajak reassured her: "Don't despair. Next year, the tournament will likely be held again. There will be another chance."
Tina's eyes lit faintly. She had endured her curse for over a thousand years; waiting a few more wasn't impossible. And perhaps her family would fight on her behalf.
"…Then maybe one day, with everyone's help, we'll secure the wish to cure me."
The Eternals nodded. They would fight for her.
Soon, the repaired arena gleamed again. Eddie Brock's voice carried through the speakers:
"The fourth round of the Dragon Ball Tournament begins! Contestants: Wenwu versus Tony Stark!"
Both men took their places. Smith Dole appeared as referee, his gaze lifting briefly skyward before he addressed Wenwu:
"Before the match begins, I must ask—Tony Stark has proposed this fight decide three Dragon Balls at once. If you win, you immediately hold seven and claim the wish. Do you accept?"
The audience leaned forward, expecting Wenwu to seize the shortcut.
But he shook his head. "I refuse. The rules exist to honor this tournament. I won't gamble with that respect."
Some were surprised, but many nodded. Wenwu had the advantage. Why risk it?
"Very well," Smith said. "Tony Stark, your proposal is denied. The match begins now!"
Instead of attacking, Tony's suit broadcast a synthetic voice: "Wenwu… tell me. What is your wish?"
Wenwu frowned but answered simply. "To resurrect my wife. For her sake, I cannot allow any accident in this battle."
Tony's HUD flashed red with his dwindling systems. He sighed softly. "Understood."
Then his thrusters roared. He surged skyward and unleashed everything—bombs, lasers, chest beams.
"BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!"
Explosions rocked the arena, smoke and flame swallowing Wenwu's shield. Missiles screamed, machine guns rattled, armor-piercers detonated. The ground tore apart until only Wenwu's glowing barrier remained intact in the rubble.
At last, Tony's chest reactor blazed. A full-powered unibeam slammed down. The Ten Rings trembled—then steadied.
The audience barely blinked. None were surprised. Pepper sighed, hands clenched. Even she knew the outcome.
Weapons spent, Tony descended, armor battered, reactors hot.
Wenwu lowered his gaze, calm. "You're finished. Now… it's my turn."
Five rings shot from his arm, streaking like comets toward the Iron Man.
Tony fired repulsors desperately, managing to knock aside one, two—but the others slammed into his armor.
"CRASH!"
Gold-titanium alloy crumpled like foil. Damage alarms screamed. For all its brilliance, the suit was nothing before the Ten Rings.
(End of Chapter)
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