Chapter 13: Tony's Savior?

The Gulfstream private jet soared through the blue sky.

This aircraft had been hyped up even before someone crossed over. While the plane itself was expensive, renting it cost just barely over six figures a day in US dollars. As a loyal customer, they even included limited edition stewardess privileges.

Explosive music reverberated in the cabin, neon lights kept flashing, and well-proportioned stewardesses held champagne-filled tall glasses, swaying their bodies and occasionally throwing flirtatious glances at the young, handsome man on the main sofa.

"Louie!" Ang tapped the head of his chief bodyguard.

"Boss?"

"Go ahead, you and your brothers have worked hard these days. Release your hormones to your heart's content!"

"What about you?"

Ang smiled and hugged the slender waist of the black canary next to him, using his fingertip to touch her cleavage through her shirt. Miss Dana had goosebumps, but she could only maintain a strained smile on her face.

"I thank you for your generosity, Boss!" Louie led the way, all the bodyguards smiling strangely as they carried a few coquettish stewardesses to the front cabin, conveniently closing the door to the compartment.

Originally, the black canary should have been afraid.

Perhaps due to experience, she turned her head to Ang and said, "Boss, you're not planning to use me as a cover again, are you?"

"Very clever. Do you want me to reward you with a kiss?" Ang used his finger to lift Dana's pointed chin.

For some reason, the black canary felt a contradictory mixture of happiness and frustration.

She was happy that Ang seemed to genuinely respect her and not trample on her dignity casually.

She was frustrated because... was her beauty just a facade?

She gently removed Ang's finger. "If this isn't an order, please forgive my refusal."

She was clearly telling Ang that if he used force, she couldn't resist, but the Black Canary would never be enslaved!

Ang didn't show any irritation at all; instead, he smiled. "My dear Miss Lance, if you were to be a simple canary, singing in a cage every day, perhaps that life would be easier. Now, you've chosen a thrilling and dangerous path."

The expression on the Black Canary's face was quite vivid: she regretted it, could she choose again?

In no time, the group arrived at the most luxurious hotel in Dubai.

To outsiders, Ang, the playboy from Gotham City, appeared to enjoy himself every night, partying from morning to night.

Only Louie knew that he was experiencing both pain and pleasure.

Because Ang had said to him, "I know you need to report my whereabouts every day. But how long can you stay in this bodyguard business? You're thirty-five this year, and there are plenty of guys among your colleagues who end up bankrupt and destitute after forty. But if you become my confidant, my wealth and prosperity will always include you. Think carefully."

So Louie had changed his role, guest-starring as Ang, and helping him greet women from all over the world.

Ang himself only brought the Black Canary and secretly took a plane over a thousand kilometers to Afghanistan.

Afghanistan's Bagram Air Base was in turmoil.

Two days ago, after completing a brilliant demonstration of the new missile from Stark Industries, Boss Tony Stark was attacked on his way back.

The convoy protecting Tony was destroyed, the security personnel were killed and injured, and only Tony's whereabouts remained unknown.

In the U.S., not even the death of a senator might cause such a stir.

As a representative figure of the military-industrial complex capable of influencing Congress, Tony's disappearance could cause countless generals in the U.S. military to lose their military caps.

The U.S. military was clueless about the situation.

Helpless, as the saying goes, poverty and evil waters breed rebellious citizens, and there were too many factions of insurgents in this place.

The ineffective so-called government forces, the warlords mingling with the Americans, the local forces that had raised their own troops, and countless bandits – each faction, even each village, could potentially be the kidnappers.

If the other side had openly demanded ransom, it would have been fine. But since Tony's disappearance, he had vanished without a trace.

At this moment, the mighty waves of the East Coast of the United States, along with Bruce Wayne, were experiencing the first bitter taste of societal defeat in their lives.

He had been captured, that was undeniable. His own missile from Stark Industries had blown him up, and fragments had invaded his body. In order to survive, he had to attach an electromagnetic iron to his chest to prevent the fragments from reaching his heart and killing him.

His misery wasn't over yet. He had been captured by terrorists (the Ten Rings), and the hidden leader, Zara, had forced him to produce the Jericho missile.

Not willing? "Goo-goo-goo!"

Waterboarding!

His head was pushed into the water tank, and after experiencing some 'affectionate' suffocation from the terrorists, Tony knew that he had to do something to survive.

Perhaps doing something would also lead to his death, but doing nothing meant death now.

With the help of his fellow captive, Ethan, Tony decided to create a mechanical suit of armor, the initial version of Iron Man Mark I, under the pretense of missile production.

That night, Tony had just finished making the leg armor in the miserable cave prison. The iron door behind him creaked open.

Unexpectedly, the ones entering were not rough, incommunicative terrorists.

The first thing that caught his eye was a blonde bombshell that was very much to Tony's taste. Despite being covered in dirt and wearing a full-face mask and a professional office dress, it couldn't hide her great figure.

The next second, the one who attracted all the attention was a tall, well-built man with black hair, dressed in a tailor-made black suit. Most importantly, he wore a fearsome ebony mask.

"Roman Sionis's mask...?" Tony's heart skipped a beat.

The "Black Mask" was a known figure. He had heard of the godfather-level character from the neighboring city.

For someone to come with a mask associated with a dead mob boss was itself a terrible form of intimidation.

Tony... wasn't indifferent.

Taking advantage of the difference in their knowledge, he could easily deceive ignorant terrorists into believing that he was making missiles. But he would never be able to deceive a mastermind with the same background as his.

Furthermore, the man emitted a familiar aura.

"Good evening! Mr. Tony Stark." The man bowed slightly.

The standard Gotham accent in his speech indicated his long-time experience. Combined with the extreme refinement that only aristocratic families would train their scions in, Tony immediately confirmed that even if he didn't know him, they were of the same type.

And that was the most annoying thing for Tony.

"Hello! How should I address you, sir and madam?"

"My secretary's name is not important. You can call me—Quintus!" Ang said, and the Black Canary had the urge to bite him.

Tony, without much patience left, saluted in the French military manner alongside Ethan. "Alright! Mr. Quintus, if you're the mastermind behind this place, I surrender."

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Mastermind? How could I, the one who created 'one of the two most powerful minds in the world,' sit in this bird-shit of a cave and make missiles by hand? That would be too much of a downer."

"Oh?" The man's words suddenly ignited a spark of hope in Tony's heart. "Then how did you come here, sir?"

"I'm just passing by." The Black Canary really wanted to kick Ang: Was this 'passing by' after circling half the globe in an airplane?

Tony saw that Ang wasn't leaking anything, and he had no temper left. "Alright, alright! You don't have to say. But surely you can tell me why you're here? If you can get me out of here, you can have the friendship of Stark Industries!"

Since the man was of the same background as himself, he was definitely not short of money.

Tony made a subtle request for a trade involving his coding skills.

Ang shook his head. "No, no, no. The previous you was just a rich, slightly clever playboy. While I am one as well, I shouldn't obstruct your personal transformation. Even more so, I shouldn't delay the birth of a great work because of my appearance."

Tony's expression was quite vivid.

What the hell are you here for?

Ang finally got to the point with his words. "Furthermore, saving you will only earn me half of Stark Industries' friendship."

"What?" Tony was indeed intelligent; he immediately thought of the key issue – his partner, Stane!

Tony's face turned black on the spot.

Why would terrorists have a bunch of Stark Industries' weapons? The simplest way would be if there was an insider!

He had been kidnapped, and from the beginning, it was a conspiracy involving his own people!

"It seems you've figured it out."

"Mr. Quintus, what can you give me, and what do I have to give in return?"

Wearing the black mask, Ang walked over and casually placed a small gadget in Tony's hand.

Tony looked at it and was delighted. It was a high-precision global satellite positioning device. It couldn't send signals externally, but it could determine his most accurate coordinates. With it, his escape journey would be twice as effective.

Ang's eyes were deep and terrifying in the middle of the ebony mask. "This time, I can't intervene directly, but I'll back you up when it's crucial. As for the price..."

Tony held a diamond in his hand.

"What's this..."

"I won't rob you. Here's a set of account numbers. Use them to buy a portion of Stane's shares, based on market value. Don't worry, you'll have the voting rights."

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