The image on the TV screen abruptly switched, the signal forcibly hijacked. The live sports broadcast was roughly cut off, replaced by a blinding static. A few seconds later, the static twisted and deformed, gradually coalescing into a strange symbol—ten rings encircling two crossed scimitars, each ring inscribed with obscure, ancient text.
The symbol lingered for only ten seconds, then the screen darkened, the camera zoomed out, revealing a desolate desert.
An old man in a long robe with a traditional topknot stood with his back to the camera, beneath the scorching Sun. Despite the blazing sunlight, the entire scene seemed enveloped by a layer of gloom, exuding a suffocating sense of oppression.
Around him, dozens of masked armed individuals stood or squatted, holding weapons like AK-47s and RPGs, with ammunition boxes piled high like mountains. Their eyes were fanatical and devout, fixed on the old man's back, as if awaiting a divine oracle.
The scene suddenly switched—
An execution ground.
A dozen men in Middle Eastern attire knelt on the ground, trembling all over, their foreheads pressed against the hot sand. The old man slowly walked up to them, his sunglasses-clad face slightly lowered, as if scrutinizing a group of lambs awaiting slaughter. He reached out and patted one of their heads, a gentle motion that made the man tremble even more violently.
The old man looked up at the sky, as if listening to some silent decree. Then, he turned and walked towards the execution squad standing nearby.
The sound of gun bolts being pulled was clearly audible.
"Some people say I am a Terrorist."
Gunshots suddenly rang out, blood splattered from the backs of the kneeling men, and they fell one by one.
"I consider myself a teacher."
The scene switched again, this time to a surging crowd. Countless masked warriors raised their weapons, firing wildly into the sky, roaring indistinct battle cries.
The scene then became a close-up of the old man's face.
"United States."
The scene abruptly transformed into the U.S. in the 1970s—bustling streets, the free revelry of hippies, neon-flashing casinos, fluttering Stars and Stripes… All beautiful and illusory scenes flashed rapidly across the screen.
Then, the corners of the old man's mouth curled into a scornful sneer.
"Are you ready for a lesson?"
The screen suddenly darkened, then an old, yellowed photograph appeared—the Sand Creek Massacre of 1864, Colorado. Women, old people, and children of the Native American tribe lay in pools of blood, U.S. Military soldiers stood by the bodies with guns, their expressions cold.
"In 1864, at Sand Creek, Colorado, U.S. troops attacked and massacred the families of the Cheyenne warriors while they were out hunting."
The photos rapidly switched, one after another, all historical images of Native Americans being massacred and their land plundered.
"Then they seized their land."
The scene suddenly shifted to modern times—the Kuwait Ali Al Salem Air Base, billowing with thick smoke, explosions rising into the sky, debris scattering.
"39 hours ago, the Kuwait Ali Al Salem Air Base was attacked."
The old man tilted his head slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery.
"I… I did it."
The camera switched again, this time to an ancient church, packed with women, old people, and children attending worship. Outside the church, soldiers were conducting drills, the sound of gunshots faintly audible.
"In that ancient church, packed with women, old people, and children, they were worshipping, the soldiers were out on drills, and the warriors were all absent."
"Boom—!"
A blinding White light engulfed the entire screen, and the deafening roar of the explosion made the apartment's glass windows hum and vibrate.
A few seconds later, the screen recovered, and the old man reappeared in front of the camera, his eyes cold.
"President Aris, you are still refusing my teachings, My Lord."
The scene flashed rapidly—war raging across the World, bodies strewn everywhere. Global Defense System rescue robots and medical pods moved through the chaos, trying to save civilians, but more often, there were helpless cries and desperate Death.
"How many more times do you think the Arbitrators can save you?"
The camera zoomed in, the old man stood in front of a burning U.S. flag, with countless fanatical warriors behind him. He slightly raised his chin, his voice deep and dangerous.
"If you continue to refuse my teachings....."
"You will know who I am."
"But you will not know where I am."
"You will never anticipate when I will arrive."
On CNN, the anchor's expression was grim: "Just 24 hours ago, signals from multiple major television stations worldwide were hijacked by an unknown source. Currently, more than a dozen countries not part of the Global Defense System have reported Terrorist attacks."
The scene switched to a satellite map, with dozens of red markers flashing in Africa, the Middle East, and Southeast Asia.
On the Underworld TV station, "According to incomplete statistics," the female anchor's voice trembled, "the Niger government building suffered a car bomb attack, causing at least 50 deaths; a series of explosions occurred at the North Airport, and the number of casualties is still rising..."
The scene changed to the White House briefing room, where the U.S. President's face was ashen: "The global Terrorist attacks that occurred today are a declaration of war on the civilized World. We will work with our allies and the Arbitrators...." Before he could finish, the screen flickered again, and the Ten Rings Gang symbol flashed across.
"Lesson continues." The TV screen finally displayed these small words, as if made of blood.
Tony sat in the laboratory of his Malibu Villa, the holographic TV screen flickering before him.
"Jarvis," Tony's voice was terribly low, "calculate how many attacks this so-called Ten Rings Gang has carried out?"
"According to public intelligence, Sir," Jarvis's British accent was uncharacteristically grave, "they have currently claimed responsibility for 7 attacks, all occurring in countries not part of the Global Defense System."
Tony's knuckles were White. The projected image switched to a live news report, a village in Africa was burning, and medical robots were futilely searching for signs of life in the ruins.
Jarvis continued to report, "All attacks appear to be planned, precisely targeting countries not part of the Global Defense System."
Tony kept scrolling through the holographic map, he was intently analyzing the Ten Rings Gang's attack data, connecting the red dots across the globe.
Chen Tian's holographic communication signal connected directly, without prompt, without request, just like Chen Tian himself, coming and going as he pleased.
This was the authorization Tony gave Chen Tian, an authorization only two people had, the other being Pepper.
"Looks like you also received that 'syllabus'?" Chen Tian's silver hair was a bit disheveled, and he yawned.
Tony didn't even look up, he sneered, and with a swipe of his finger, magnified the Ten Rings Gang symbol to float between them: "This old man specifically exploits the loopholes in the defense system. Seven attack locations, all in countries not part of the Global Defense Network."
"Precisely horrifying." Chen Tian narrowed his eyes, "It's like someone drew him a target map."
Both fell silent simultaneously. The red numbers on the projection were as glaring as dripping blood.
Tony suddenly slammed a fist on the control panel, the metal surface emitted a dull thud: "We have to do something, this is a disrespect for life, and a provocation to the Arbitrators!"
Just as Chen Tian was about to say something, Jarvis timely reminded: "Sir, Colonel Rhodes is requesting communication."
Tony connected the communication, and Rhodes's holographic image immediately appeared in the center of the laboratory. The Colonel saw Tony's ashen face and instinctively took half a step back.
"Tony, calm down." Rhodes raised his hands, "The Pentagon is holding an emergency meeting, the Secretary of State and the Minister of Defense..."
"Every second they hold a meeting, the Ten Rings Gang can kill one more person!" Tony slammed a fist on the projection table, making the holographic image flicker, "Look at these numbers! 50 lives! Right there in the Niger government building!"
Rhodes's expression became serious: "Listen, I understand your anger. But according to international law..."
"To hell with international law!" Tony interrupted him roughly, "Can those bureaucratic papers stop the next Carnage?"
"Tony!" Rhodes raised his voice, "The Arbitrators have no right to enter unauthorized countries without permission, that's equivalent to Military invasion! Do you want to start World War III?!"
Chen Tian, in the holographic projection, suddenly chuckled softly: "Colonel Rhodes, if I may interject." He took a sip of cola, "The Ten Rings Gang has already initiated the war. The targets they chose are precisely those countries that refused to join the Global Defense System."
Tony suddenly turned and pointed at Chen Tian: "Exactly! This old bastard is mocking us! He's saying 'Look, your proud umbrella can't cover everyone'!"
Cold sweat seeped from Rhodes's forehead: "But procedures are procedures..."
"Procedures are meant to protect people, not to harm them." Chen Tian's voice suddenly turned cold, "Colonel, please inform your President that the Arbitrators will not stand idly by."
Jarvis's voice suddenly rang out in the laboratory, interrupting the three men's conversation:
"Sir, emergency broadcast—the Ten Rings Gang has once again hijacked global signals."
All three men simultaneously looked at the news footage Jarvis projected in the hall. What greeted their eyes were glaring rainbow signal bars, and then, the familiar Ten Rings Gang logo—ten rings encircling two crossed scimitars—slowly emerged.
The scene switched.
In a dim room, the only light source was a flickering oil lamp. The firelight elongated the old man's silhouette, casting it onto the mottled wall. He sat on an antique wooden chair, his hands clasped on his knees, his posture composed, as if he had long anticipated this moment.
"President Ellis." The old man's voice was hoarse, "It seems you still haven't learned."
The scene abruptly switched—
Explosion.
A hospital collapsed in flames, ambulances were overturned, and the bodies of medical personnel and patients were scattered among the ruins.
Gunshots.
Masked armed militants stormed into a school, and the children's screams were torn apart by bullets.
Burning flag.
In front of a small country's presidential palace, soldiers' bodies were piled high, and the Ten Rings Gang's flag rose amidst the thick smoke.
The scene returned to the dim interior. The old man was still facing away from the camera, but his voice carried a nearly mocking sarcasm:
"You think hiding behind the 'Global Defense System' will allow you to rest easy?"
He slowly raised one hand and waved it gently, as if shooing away an insignificant fly.
"Wrong."
"You only protect those who are willing to be protected."
"And those countries that reject your 'grace'....."
His finger lightly tapped his temple.
"…They are paying for your arrogance with their lives."
Tony's fists clenched, making cracking sounds. His nanotech armor had silently covered his right arm, but he stared intently at the screen, unmoving.
The old man continued:
"Arbitrators? Superheroes?"
He chuckled, his smile full of sarcasm.
"You can't even save your own people."
The scene abruptly switched—
Africa, a country not part of the Global Defense System.
A Ten Rings Gang armed squad was massacring villagers; gunshots and screams mingled together. Not far away, an Arbitrator medical robot—'White Dove'—lay on the ground, its red optical lens flickering twice before going completely dark. Its shell looked as if it had been doused with lava, and its mechanical arm remained extended forward, as if still trying to rescue someone at its last moment.
"Look." Mandarin's voice was mocking, "Your machines can't even protect themselves."
Tony's pupils suddenly contracted.
That was the Arbitrators' signature rescue model, designed for battlefield medicine. Theoretically, it should be able to withstand fire attacks.
Unless.....
"They have extraordinary power." Chen Tian voiced Tony's thought.
The old man seemed to have heard this remark. The figure in the image leaned slightly forward, and the light from the oil lamp finally illuminated half of his face—aged skin, deep wrinkles, and those.....
Nearly blank eyes.
There was only a small dot in the large expanse of white, and that dot, which resembled a pupil, was like a black hole devouring everything.
"Ah, I almost forgot to introduce myself." The old man slowly spoke, a hint of playfulness in his voice, "My name is Man, and the members of the Ten Rings Gang all call me—Mandarin."
He tilted his head slightly, a provocative smirk on his lips.
"Tony Stark, I hear you like being a hero?"
"Will you bypass those ridiculous laws and save these 'arrogant' people?"
"Arbitrators, can you?"
Mandarin once again merged his figure into the darkness.
"The lesson continues."
He said slowly, and then the screen went black, and the signal was cut off.
The laboratory fell into dead silence.
A few seconds later, Chen Tian slowly raised his hand and drew a line on the holographic map—all the attack locations connected, forming a perfect arc, like.....
An ugly smile.
"They're mocking us." Tony said in a low voice.
Tony's voice showed no emotion, but his expression grew increasingly furious.
"Jarvis, in ten minutes, hold a global live broadcast at the Arbitrator Tower."
Chen Tian and Rhodes simultaneously turned to look at Tony, both with equally puzzled expressions. Chen Tian raised an eyebrow: "Live broadcast? Are you sure now isn't the time to first—"
"—first find that old bastard's hiding spot?" Tony interrupted him, a dangerous curve on his lips, "No, since he dares to openly provoke us, let him see the Arbitrators' response."
Rhodes stepped forward: "Tony, this is too risky. We don't even know him—"
"—don't know where he is? Don't know how many people he has?" Tony suddenly turned, his nanotech armor instantly covering his entire body. His voice, suppressing anger, came from beneath the gold and red faceplate, "He's waiting to see our reaction, Rhodes. Waiting to see if the Arbitrators will be bound by those damned rules and regulations."
Chen Tian, in the holographic projection, thoughtfully stroked his chin: "Interesting. A direct challenge?" He suddenly laughed, "I like it."
"Sir," Jarvis's voice rang out, "Global media is ready, including all major television stations and online platforms."
Tony's faceplate retracted, revealing his determined face: "Very good. Chen Tian, I need you—"
"2B is already helping me prepare my clothes." Chen Tian's holographic image left this message before disappearing, "See you in ten minutes."
Rhodes watched Tony begin to adjust his armor, hesitating to speak: "Tony, this really..."
"Rhodes," Tony stopped, looking directly into his friend's eyes, "Do you remember why we formed the Arbitrators? To protect those who cannot protect themselves." He pointed to the red dots on the holographic projection, "Now someone is massacring innocents in front of the whole World, just because they are not on the 'protection list'. You tell me, what else can we wait for?"
Rhodes took a deep breath and finally nodded: "I'll coordinate with the Military. But promise me, don't make things worse."
Tony was already walking towards the rising platform, "I only promise one thing—to make that bastard who calls himself 'teacher' regret today's provocation."
Ten minutes later, Arbitrator Tower, first-floor lobby.
Hundreds of global media cameras focused on the central platform. Chen Tian wore a long black trench coat over a hooded sweatshirt. His silver-white short hair was particularly striking under the spotlights. He held a can of iced cola in his right hand and had his left hand in his trench coat pocket, waiting for Tony's appearance.
Tony walked out of the lobby's lounge. He was now in a suit. Without any pleasantries, Tony directly raised his hand, and a holographic projection unfolded between the two—a close-up of Mandarin's eerie, pitch-black eyes.
"Mandarin," Tony's voice spread through the global live broadcast network to every corner, "Your response has arrived."
Chen Tian smirked and casually tossed the empty cola can into the air. The metal can traced a silver parabola under the spotlights, landing precisely in the recycling device. He stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Tony.
"First, I have to thank you for your 'teaching demonstration'." Chen Tian's tone was relaxed, "Specifically targeting unarmed civilians, that taste is truly... unique."
Tony took over, snapping his fingers. The holographic image instantly switched to a 3D World map, with all countries not part of the defense system marked in blood-red: "But you got one thing wrong—the Arbitrators never treat protection as charity." His voice was cold and hard, "The people of these countries are equally worthy of protection, it's just that their governments made different choices."
"And you," Chen Tian's voice suddenly cooled, "you exploited that choice."
Tony switched the screen again, showing real-time rescue efforts at various attack sites: "You think this proves we are powerless?" He suddenly sneered.
Tony looked at the cameras of everyone present, pointing at the reporters, but declaring war on Mandarin.
"Mandarin, my name is Tony Stark, I'm not afraid of you, I know you are a coward, so I've decided."
"You're dead."
"I'll come to collect your corpse."
"No politics, just old-fashioned drama, nothing to do with the Pentagon, just you and the Arbitrators."
"If you're a man, I'll be waiting for you here."
-----------------------
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(End of Chapter)