The next day, a Quinjet glided silently across the skies of the Middle East.
Inside the cabin, a middle-aged man pointed out the window at the vast desert below and spoke in a grave tone:"The area down there is where Tony Stark was last confirmed missing. The complicated political situation prevents us from launching a large-scale search. All we can do is investigate in secret, so this mission must be carried out with the utmost discretion."
Du Mu nodded."Relax, Village Chief. I'm famous for keeping a low profile."
"I'll repeat myself. My name is Coulson. Not 'Village Chief.'"
"Don't bother pretending. You are the Beginner's Village Chief. I can see your title floating right above your head."
"..."
Coulson instinctively glanced up at the empty space above his head, then sighed helplessly.
He had studied Du Mu's file thoroughly. This guy's style and record were burned into his mind.
Du Mu, graduate of S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy with top marks. Since joining S.H.I.E.L.D. two months ago, he had displayed extraordinary personal skill and execution.
No matter how difficult the mission, he always completed it solo—never drafting retreat plans, never requesting backup.
In just two months, he had completed forty-eight missions with a flawless 100% success rate.
Even Coulson, the agency's legendary workhorse, couldn't match that level of efficiency. Because of this, Du Mu had been promoted to Level 5 Agent at record speed—the fastest promotion in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s history.
Yet his methods were… extreme.
On one infiltration mission, Du Mu had slaughtered nearly a hundred enemy soldiers inside the base. Not a single soul survived—not even the two guard dogs.
When Nick Fury learned of this, he immediately sealed the incident.
Nearly a hundred deaths—that was practically a small war!
They were S.H.I.E.L.D., not goddamn HYDRA!
Later, when Fury personally interrogated him, Du Mu's defense had been maddeningly righteous:
"No witnesses, no alarms, and the mission objective secured. Isn't that the perfect infiltration?"
Coulson could only think: Sure… perfectly insane.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s psychological experts later diagnosed him as suffering from severe delusions.
In his mind, the entire world was nothing more than a massive virtual game.
Everyone else? Just NPCs.
And he? The sole player.
Logically, such a dangerous and uncontrollable element should have been placed on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest watchlist, monitored under strict supervision.
But Fury didn't.
After all, what boss would fire the one man singlehandedly carrying the company's KPIs?
So, Fury turned a blind eye.
And since the boss himself ignored it, Coulson—as the subordinate—had no business questioning further.
"If your plan is ready, I'll notify the pilot to find a safe landing spot," Coulson said at last, reaching for his comms.
"No need to trouble yourself."
Du Mu waved dismissively.
Before Coulson could react, Du Mu casually pressed the hatch release button.
Coulson's eyes widened in horror."Wait! We're hundreds of meters up! You don't even have a parachute—"
"Wuhu, let's go!"
With a shout of excitement, Du Mu flung his arms wide and leapt out of the cabin.
Coulson was left frozen in shock, staring blankly at the open hatch.
The desert wind howled.
Du Mu plummeted from hundreds of meters up, violent gusts tearing at his clothes, the roar of air screaming in his ears.
The ground rushed up, rocky crags and rolling dunes growing larger with terrifying speed.
But his expression remained calm.
With a sharp twist, he spun midair, turning to face the sky. Arms outstretched, then drawn tightly across his chest—
And just as he was about to hit the ground—
Boom!
A massive, fluffy haystack appeared out of nowhere beneath him. Du Mu crashed into it precisely, sending a storm of straw flying everywhere.
Seconds later, he hopped out of the haystack, completely unharmed.
[Skill Unlocked: Leap of Faith][Effect: When falling from great heights, a haystack will always appear to catch you, negating all fall damage.][Evaluation: Everything is permitted, nothing is true.]
It was a skill reward from an earlier mission. Not only practical—honestly, it looked cool as hell.
So cool that now, whenever Du Mu spotted a high ledge, he had the uncontrollable urge to jump.
"Alright, where the hell am I now?"
He scanned his surroundings. Dunes stretched endlessly, barren and disorienting. Finding anyone here would be like looking for a needle in a sandstorm.
But for Du Mu, that wasn't a problem.
"System, track the mission target."
[Mission target 'Tony Stark' has been marked.]
A golden beacon immediately lit up on his minimap.
"Not bad. Doesn't seem too far," Du Mu muttered as he set off toward the marker.
After nearly an hour of running, Du Mu arrived at the edge of a valley encircled by jagged mountains.
He crouched low and peered down.
Hidden at the bottom was a crude encampment.
Sandbag fortifications and barbed wire surrounded it. Inside lay weapon crates stamped with Stark Industries, along with scattered missile parts.
Armed militants patrolled the perimeter, at least forty strong.
The golden marker glowed deep within a shadowed cave at the rear of the camp.
The entrance to the cave was heavily guarded, making infiltration nearly impossible.
Normally, Du Mu would've gleefully rushed in guns blazing.
But this mission was different.
Until he located the objective, drawing attention would be unwise.
"Guess the front door's not an option. I'll need another way in."
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
The sound of hammering echoed within the cave.
In the dim light, a man worked feverishly at a forge.
Not some random smith—this was the Iron Man, Tony Stark himself.
Ever since being captured by terrorists three months ago, Tony had been imprisoned here, tormented and threatened daily, forced to build a new missile under their watch.
But Tony Stark was never one to bow to orders.
If they told him to go east, he'd march west.
So, under the guise of missile development, he requisitioned materials and tools. With the help of fellow captive Dr. Yinsen, he secretly designed a suit of iron armor powerful enough to blast their way to freedom.
Tony clamped a steel faceplate with tongs, setting it onto the workbench. Yinsen, busy assisting, raised his head.
"The core components are nearly finished. All that's left is final assembly and activating the power system."
Tony's voice was hoarse but steady, tinged with fatigue."Yinsen, time is running out. They're starting to get suspicious. We have to move quickly."
"Leave the rest to me," Yinsen replied firmly.
"Good. When the time comes, stay here. I'll clear the outside first, and once it's safe, you follow me out."
Tony's eyes burned with resolve.
These three months of hell had tempered him. The playboy who once drowned in wine and women now stood hardened.
Inwardly, he swore:If I make it back alive, I, Tony Stark, will never touch gambling again.
Piece by piece, Yinsen helped him don the heavy armor.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
But then—
A deep, unnatural digging sound echoed suddenly beneath their feet.
"What was that?"
Tony and Yinsen froze, exchanging wary looks.
Before they could react, the stone floor two meters away abruptly vanished—erased, as if wiped away by some invisible eraser.
In its place, a perfectly cut square pit, one meter wide.
And then—
A head popped up from the hole.
Eyes locked straight onto Tony.
"Found you."