Hong Fei still woke up early, as energetic as ever. The first thing after his morning workout was to record in detail the complete process of how Tony created the new element last night. However, now was not the time to sell it. Although the palladium element was toxic, that was because Tony had embedded the thing directly into the wound on his chest.
Strictly speaking, it was no different from burying it into his flesh, so poisoning was naturally unavoidable. But there was no need for others to follow suit; otherwise, they would have to be brain-damaged. He believed that Chen Qi and the others would solve this problem well. When they had researched the application enough in the future, he would send this new thing over at the right time.
This was called sustainable development. After putting away the materials, he changed his clothes and went to the Underground Room to check on the Abomination first. This ferocious beast was quite well-behaved now, and his cage even had a television to help him pass the time.
Ivan had already gained the trust of Justin Hammer at Hammer Industries and was currently working hard to pave the way for his revenge plan. Next was the laboratory, where Dr. Helen Cho was leading a group of scientists working hard; Hong Fei didn't disturb them much. Finally, there was Samuel. He was holding a computer, wishing he could stick his eyeballs into it.
But when Hong Fei quietly leaned in, he found that the screen was filled with the most professional computer knowledge. Looking back, it seemed that he was the only one who had suddenly become idle. Patting Big Head on the shoulder, Hong Fei asked, "Samuel, what did the Russians say?" "Ah, Boss. The conditions offered by the Russians are too outrageous; we are still negotiating."
Hong Fei sat down beside him: "Outrageous? Tell me, how exactly is it outrageous?" Seeing this, Samuel closed the computer and put it aside before saying: "Boss, they are asking for more than just price. Let me start with the first point: they want to meet you in Moscow. This is a prerequisite for the transaction." Hong Fei raised an eyebrow.
If it were any other business, meeting a business partner wouldn't be a big deal. Even if the other party didn't ask, Hong Fei would definitely have taken the initiative to arrange a meeting to show his sincerity, just like with Chen Qi. But his business with the Russians was different. First of all, he instinctively felt that the other party had no good intentions.
The deal involving tanks and fighter jets was already shady; what was there to meet about? Unless the Russians wanted to capture him and then seize the path behind Hong Fei that led to the tanks. Secondly, even if the Russians really only wanted to meet and make friends, Hong Fei would absolutely not agree. He knew his own tanks; who knew when they might disappear?
Wouldn't he be shooting himself in the foot by then? Finally, as of now, only two types of people knew Hong Fei's true identity. One was his own people, and the other was his fellow countrymen. The Russians? They were nothing! "Do they not have any intention of selling at all?" Hong Fei couldn't help but ask. Samuel shook his head: "It's not that extreme.
Once we show signs of giving up, they take the initiative to come back and persuade us to stay. But after several rounds of back-and-forth, the price is still very outrageous." "Tell me about it." "Our target is the Su-30MK. This fighter jet is sold in large quantities for export. Although it has obvious flaws, it is generally in the upper-middle range.
According to your instructions, we want a maximum of five, but they offered an astronomical price of 2 billion right from the start." Hong Fei was also shocked. Are these Russians even more capable of robbing than me? Regarding the number of fighter jets, it wasn't that Hong Fei couldn't afford to buy or keep them, but the key was that he had no manpower and no place to put them.
A fighter jet isn't just about the pilot. You need runways and airports. Maintenance crews and logistics personnel. A steady supply of aviation fuel and ammunition. Otherwise, what's the point? You might as well let the damn thing collect dust in a hangar.
Truth be told, if he wasn't worried about being laughed at, Hong Fei would've asked for just one jet. Asking for five in his personal capacity was already pushing it. But the Russians? Their ambition could swallow the sun whole. "Current price?" he asked.
Samuel's reply came crisp: "One point five billion."
Hong Fei could afford it. That wasn't the issue.
But why bother? He'd traveled half the globe selling tanks to turn a profit. Paying extra now would defeat the whole purpose. Let someone else play that game—he was done. After a brief pause, Hong Fei shook his head. "End negotiations. Blacklist them."
The thought of those tanks sitting in Russian hands this long made his stomach twist. That was pure profit gone to waste. "Any new buyers?"
"Five," Samuel confirmed.
"Send me the list. I'll handle deliveries." Back in the underground room, Hong Fei summoned the tanks. Better they gather dust here than let the Russians keep jerking him around.
Upstairs, he flipped on the TV while scanning Samuel's list. This batch of customers shared two glaring traits: First, they all hailed from Asia. Second, every last one was a bootlicker groveling at America's feet.
Apparently, these so-called loyal sons weren't as obedient as they pretended. Still scheming to skim benefits from dear old Uncle Sam, dreaming of the day they'd call the shots themselves. Disgusting. Someone needed to teach them a damn lesson.
The news anchor's voice cut through his thoughts: "Last night, Tony Stark and Colonel James Rhodes engaged in an armored brawl during Stark's birthday celebration, terrifying attendees. The altercation was halted by an unidentified individual, though both Stark and Rhodes subsequently turned their aggression toward this mysterious third party..."
Hong Fei's head snapped up. Grainy, shaky footage filled the screen—clearly someone's illicit recording. First, Tony and Rhodey going at it in their suits, then partygoers scattering when Tony roared. The camera zoomed out but kept rolling from some hidden vantage point.
There he was—Hong Fei stepping in, taking on both armored men. He remembered now: his psychic sweep had detected this cameraman. But others had been hiding too. Even Pepper got whisked away by Happy and the security team. At the time, one more lurking figure hadn't seemed worth his attention.
Ballsy move, filming that. Lucky for him, the footage cut off abruptly when Tony charged with his repulsor blade, Happy's voice shouting in the background before the recording ended.
As the anchor prattled on with wild speculation, Hong Fei made a mental note: tighter operations moving forward. No faces this time, but next time? No guarantees.
The alarm bells never stopped ringing—caution was the price of survival. Hong Fei's eyes narrowed as his psychic awareness unfurled like invisible tendrils. Across the lab complex, Dr. Helen Cho sat at her desk, one hand resting on an open file, the other absently twirling a pen. Her gaze wasn't on the paperwork, but fixed on the flickering TV screen above.
Her expression shifted—first curiosity, then dawning realization, finally something sharper. Hong Fei didn't need telepathy to read that face. The pen clattered onto the desk as she stood abruptly. By the time she reached the hallway, her pace had slowed to a casual stroll, but her hands were jammed deep in her pockets, shoulders hunched. The closer she got to the exit, the wider her eyes grew, pupils dilating with barely restrained panic.
Hong Fei used his Psychic Power to monitor her actions. Seeing her slip out of the laboratory, he hesitated. Where the hell was she running to?