The next day, at two in the afternoon.
"According to the latest news from the Millennium Daily, Tony Stark, the son of the Stark military industrial group, was attacked by an unknown party while on a business trip, and his whereabouts are currently unknown!"
"Due to the news, the major shareholders of the Stark Group are discussing a rescue plan..."
"We now go to the live interview..."
In his gallery, Aaron woke up early. He was already familiar with the news on TV. At this moment, Tony Stark was likely building his armor in a cave somewhere.
"This world is all about the poor getting power through mutations, and the rich through technology. I wonder what interesting things Stark will create..."
On a nearby wall hung a recent painting. It showed a man in a red and gold suit of armor, broken and battered, lying in ruins among many other people. This painting was titled "The Final Battle," and the man in the armor looked exactly like Tony Stark from the news.
"My lord, I've found them. They are in an abandoned industrial base in Hell's Kitchen," a puppet-like figure in crude black armor said, appearing before Aaron.
"Good. I'll wait for them."
In Hell's Kitchen, beneath a run-down industrial base, lay the Hand's main headquarters. Most of the Hand's members were gathered here. One of the Five Fingers was still in Africa, searching for the dragon bones, but the other four were here, discussing how to deal with Aaron.
"That man has the exact location of the dragon bones, but the people we sent haven't returned," said Madame Gao, cracking her knuckles.
"They're dead. That man is not simple. Even if I went there myself, I wouldn't get anything out of it."
"Ma'am, you're joking. We're from the Holy Land. He's just an ordinary person..."
"He's not simple. He's a master!" This was Murakami, the leader of this group of ninjas and one of the five masters of the Hand who came from Kunlun. They wanted Aaron's painting because it contained clues about the dragon bones.
"Send all the masters in the game. I don't believe he can handle so many ninjas by himself!"
"I'll go there myself. I refuse to believe this kid is that capable!"
Madame Gao squinted, recalling her first meeting with Aaron the day before. He was exactly as the fat man had described—mysterious and surrounded by a strange aura. That fat man was trying to use them to test Aaron. After all, one mountain cannot have two tigers.
In another part of Hell's Kitchen, a large, muscular man sat on his throne. He was holding a painting that Aaron had given him when he first came to Hell's Kitchen to try and recruit him. In the painting, he was dead—a miserable death, as was his only child, who died at the hands of rival forces.
"Boss, they've made their move!" a bald man reported to Kingpin.
"Good. As long as he kills the Hand, all of Hell's Kitchen will be under my control... But what about that kid, Matt?"
"Don't worry," Kingpin waved his hand. "That kid won't be successful. Don't even think about it."
Hell's Kitchen was a place of freedom for its residents, but it was also a symbol of chaos and disorder in Manhattan. Aaron's gallery stood right in the middle of it.
In the dead of night, the gallery looked like an ancient castle, radiating a strange energy. But the owner was unfazed, sitting on the roof, bored, staring at the stars.
A rustling sound broke the silence. Aaron saw a dozen red-clothed ninjas leap onto the roof. They had locked onto him as their target.
"Oh, you're not giving up yet?"
Aaron didn't move. He just calmly looked at the ninjas. Then, a silver blade cut through the air, passing through his body and landing behind him.
"Is it an afterimage?" Murakami, one of the Five Fingers of the Hand, was the leader of this group. Having lived for hundreds of years, he was familiar with afterimages. A master ninja could move so fast that their afterimage fooled people. But would that work on him?
"I'm a high-level ninja. Simple body skills won't work on me!"
He listened carefully, focusing on the sounds around him. He needed to find the target's direction.
Just at that moment, he found it.
"Found him!"
Without a second thought, the ninjas, following Murakami's signal, attacked in the direction of the sound. Dozens of silver blades gleamed under the moonlight. And right in front of him, a ninja pulled a red sword from his back and charged forward.
He lunged.
And he cut.
(PS: The plot requires a stage of development. This is Hades in the game world, so he won't kill them immediately. Otherwise, the invincible plot would start, and it wouldn't be easy to continue.)
(End of Chapter)
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