"Yes, business is more important."
Tony nodded, raising his right arm as the energy cannon in his palm began to gather dazzling white light.
"Let me open the door for them—Stark style."
But before he could fire, Henry reached the door first.
"Too slow," Henry said lightly.
Under Tony and Ethan's stunned gaze, Henry clenched his fist and lightly threw a punch.
"Boom!"
The huge iron door, welded from several steel layers and strong enough to withstand small explosions, instantly caved inward, twisting and deforming.
A loud explosion followed, and countless metal fragments shot outward.
Outside, a group of terrorists holding various weapons were shocked by the violent breach and momentarily forgot to open fire.
Dr. Ethan's mouth hung open, amazed by the spectacle unfolding.
First, a man in black armor fell from the sky; now another just punched through a steel door.
Tony, too, was stunned. He slowly lowered his arm as the energy glow faded.
"How did this guy suddenly become so inhuman?"
"Hey!"
Tony shouted in protest.
"That was supposed to be my highlight! You're stealing the show! Couldn't you be more elegant? That was just violent, no style."
"Come on, bro, efficiency first." Henry shrugged and chuckled.
"Let me guess—jealous because I'm stronger?"
"Jealous of you? A brute who only knows force?" Tony sneered.
"This is technology, this is art. Got it? Forget it, arguing with your muscle-head brain just fills mine with cheese sauce."
The terrorists finally regained their composure. Their leader shouted in Arabic, ordering to open fire.
Bullets and flames poured out from the cave entrance like a storm, battering Henry and Tony inside.
"Okay, warm-up over," Henry twisted his neck and said to Tony.
"You take the tanks and rocket launchers; I'll handle the smaller ones. Let's see who's faster."
"Sounds fair." Tony replied without hesitation.
"The loser cleans the lab for a month!"
Before Tony finished, Henry transformed into black lightning and darted out toward the metal storm.
His speed was so fast the terrorists couldn't follow with their eyes—only a black shadow flashed through the crowd.
Every strike echoed with bone-breaking and bloody screams.
Bullets pinged off his body with no spark, only making light tinkling sounds before falling to the ground.
He was like a prehistoric Tyrannosaurus Rex charging sheep; every punch struck with unmatched force.
One terrorist's chest was hit so hard he flew backward like a cannonball, toppling a whole line behind him.
Henry grabbed the bumper of a pickup truck firing at him and effortlessly lifted it overhead.
Like a toy, he hurled it at enemy fire positions.
His fighting style was simple, brutally effective — no fancy moves or flashy energy beams, just absolute strength, speed, and defense.
"Oh my God!"
Tony watched the massacre and complained on the comms,
"You are humanoid Gundam. So unfair!"
"Now you know who the muscle head is, right?" Henry's relaxed voice replied.
As he spoke, Henry caught an RPG rocket flying like a banana and casually flicked it back with his backhand, causing a massive explosion on a distant hillside.
"Don't get cocky!" Tony rejected defeat.
His foot thrusters fired blazing flames as he soared from the cave into the air.
"Hey, guys. Miss me?"
Hovering midair, Tony opened his arms; weapon bays on shoulders and arms opened.
Dozens of miniature missiles roared out in fiery swarms, striking tanks and armored vehicles with pinpoint accuracy.
Explosions rocked the valley.
"This is art!" Tony declared proudly.
"Your art's so loud it hurts my ears," Henry snapped beside him.
Suspended side by side over the wailing terrorist base, the brothers fought as one.
Tony looked tired but excited beneath his visor.
"How long has it been? And now, we're actually fighting together."
"Let's finish fast. I'm hungry for a cheeseburger," Henry said.
"Agreed. The air here sucks." Tony nodded.
In the next instant, the brothers fell like meteors into the enemy camp.
Henry handled melee combat, leaving afterimages as he tore enemies apart with brutal efficiency.
Tony provided long-range fire suppression, firing palm and chest cannons to clear enemy positions.
Their coordination was seamless—like a thousand rehearsals.
A terrorist leader, terrified by the godlike brothers descending upon him, threw down his gun and fled toward a jeep.
Just as he opened the door, a black combat boot crashed down, crushing the car into a crushed discus.
Henry stared coldly down at him.
"Where do you think you're going, friend?"
Meanwhile, Tony finished off the last resisting tank, landing beside Henry.
He looked at the twisted scrap heap that was once a car and smirked.
"Could you be gentler? That was a limited-edition jeep you crushed. What a waste."
"Nothing I could do," Henry shrugged.
"It was in my way."
The battle was over.
The brothers stood amid burning wreckage and destroyed vehicles.
"Okay, done." Henry brushed imaginary dust off his hands.
"Go home and eat."
"Agreed." Tony's visor rose, revealing a fatigued but exhilarated face.
"But you owe me a full explanation of your superpowers. Every detail. Also, I win this match, heavy weapons get more points. That's just common sense."