The plane landed on the helipad of the cliffside mansion; expecting Stark to come out and greet guests was out of the question, something that would never happen in his life, not even if the President of the United States personally arrived.
"Ethan, it's good to see you."
"You too, Mike."
Ethan was still polite, with a bit more vitality in his eyes. Time is a good medicine for internal wounds, but it's uncertain if they can fully heal: "It's good to see you again before I leave the U.S."
"You plan to leave?" Mike was stunned for a moment, thinking Stark had already convinced Ethan, but he didn't expect him to still insist on leaving. "Isn't it good living here?"
"No, it's very good here, and Stark is very good to me, everyone is very friendly. But…" Ethan's heart stirred, "But it's precisely because it's too good that I think of the Gomera town suffering in Water and Fire. My wife and children died in the war, and once my heart was like dead ash, with no attachment to this World. Now I think I should do something for my hometown."
"But you can't do anything."
Mike was not optimistic about Ethan; a scholar facing soldiers, unable to reason with them. His knowledge and cultivation were so White in the face of the Terrorists' guns.
"Not being able to do something and not doing something are two different things." A light gleamed in Ethan's eyes.
"You are a gentleman," Mike said seriously, "and an extraordinary warrior."
"Thank you."
The two came to Stark's garage.
"Come and see my artwork." In front of Stark was a silver, shining Iron Man Suit. He was triumphant, like a child showing off a toy to other children: "How is it?"
"Cool."
Despite being annoyed by Stark's smug look, Mike wouldn't speak against his conscience. The original color Iron Man Suit had a cold, sci-fi beauty. Mike stepped forward and tapped the suit with his hand, making a "thump, thump, thump" sound that was incredibly exciting to hear.
Which boy didn't dream of wearing a suit of armor when he was young?
"Does he have a name?" Mike asked.
"Of course," Stark replied, "Mark II."
"Why is it Mark II?"
"Because Mark I was already designed in the cave, but due to conditions, Mark I was designed too roughly, so it wasn't built. We directly upgraded to Mark II."
"Alright, I was just asking casually." Mike sincerely suggested, "Naming it Mark Is too uninspired. How about 'Nini II'?"
"Absolutely not!"
Not only was "Nini" so effeminate it made his hair stand on end, but for some reason, Stark always felt that the name "Nini" hid a deep malice.
"It's your suit, your call." Mike spread his hands regretfully, "But you didn't just call me here to show off the suit, did you?"
"That's just one purpose, and it seems very successful." Stark said with an annoying smile, "Also, I want to ask for your help to perfect the suit."
"I studied law in school, I don't understand mechanical engineering or computers, so I'm afraid I can't help you."
"I can handle the technical stuff by myself." Stark habitually began his arrogance, "In this field, if I can't handle it, no one can, so the help was limited to outside this field from the beginning."
"Bragging doesn't cost money, does it?" Mike rolled his eyes, "Go on, but let me tell you in advance, there will be a fee."
"Money is not a problem." Stark was very rich, "Based on the information I collected, I created a set of combat programs and wanted to find someone to conduct practical tests, and I thought of you."
White and gold light clusters floated from Stark's body.
System prompt:
[Stark's Commission: Test the Iron Man Suit's combat capability.]
[Commission: 50,000 U.S. dollars (90% system commission after deducting fees)]
[Mission description: A close-combat Iron Man is about to be born, and you have a… little bit of credit.]
"Oh, a close-combat Iron Man?"
Stark later developed various suits, but none were specifically designed for close combat.
Butterfly effect?
However, the Iron Man Suit has many natural advantages in combat: a powerful power system, a high-hardness metal shell, a 360-degree holographic view, and artificial intelligence assistance.
Even without specialized development, the Iron Man Suit itself has pretty good close-combat capabilities.
"Okay, I have no problem either, the commission is this amount." Mike held out five fingers.
"Jarvis, immediately transfer five hundred thousand to Mike's account." Stark didn't even blink.
"Uh, wait, it's fifty thousand…"
Mike's eyes welled up, "Indeed! Poverty limited my imagination."
Stark said, "It doesn't matter, the difference isn't big."
Fifty thousand and five hundred thousand U.S. dollars, not much difference?
The thugs fighting for five hundred U.S. dollars on the street would cry themselves unconscious in the bathroom.
"If I say fifty thousand, it's fifty thousand. A man's word is his bond!" Mike said righteously.
That's how it is: if the commission is too low or cannot be recovered, Mike has to make up for it personally. If it's too much, the excess will be deducted by the system. Thus, the system's essence is that of a black-hearted capitalist, and Mike is just a handsome worker.
"Alright, alright, so verbose." Stark felt that a "mere" difference of four hundred and fifty thousand U.S. dollars wasn't worth the wasted words.
Soul energy and destiny energy flowed into Mike's body.
At this moment, soul energy value was 5, destiny energy was 5. All the energies merged together, emitting a brilliant light.
Finally, a White destiny fruit with intricate gold patterns appeared in the space.
"It's the first time synthesizing a destiny fruit. What will it produce?" Mike felt a long-lost anticipation.
However, for now, he would focus on the commission.
For the first time, Mike didn't want to rush; a little ritual was better.
Tony entered the Iron Man Suit.
Mike complained, "Why don't you just design a sensor system so people don't even have to enter the suit? Remote control isn't safer?"
Tony's eyes lit up: "That's a good idea. Jarvis, create a document on remote control and collect data."
"Yes, sir."
Now, Tony felt he had found the right person in Mike.
Click! Click!
The Iron Man Suit's right wrist opened, and a double-edged longsword popped out.
"It's starting," Stark reminded him.
Mike stepped back two paces and took out a samurai sword from his space.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
At first, Stark used Japan's sword styles, with various schools taking turns.
Next was China's sword techniques.
Then came European fencing.
Facing the varied attacks of the longsword, Mike handled them with ease, not even needing to use a possession card.
"Traditional swordsmanship, blade techniques, or unarmed combat, no matter what, when pushed to the extreme, are essentially applications of strength, speed, and skill. The final power is limited by the user."
"The suit's strength is good, but its own weight limits its speed and flexibility." Mike commented, "No matter how powerful it is, it's meaningless if it can't hit. So, either filter out suitable parts from a vast amount of combat techniques and integrate them, or modify the armor to make him more suitable for combat."
"Hehe," Stark chuckled, "Only children choose one or the other. My Lord wants it all!"