"Bang, bang..."
In the vast, dark cave, Tony Stark, covered in dust, hammered away at a large iron block.
He knew that the cameras behind him were still watching him closely.
Reflecting on the past few days, he could only describe them in one word: brutal!
He had been kidnapped while enjphotosthe ride and taking photos, with no warning.
They had made a large hole in his chest and forced him to work on creating missiles—how outrageous!
Fortunately, he had plans to build a suit of armor.
Apart from that, deep down, there was another hope driving him forward.
That was... Iron Man!
Surely, for the sake of money, he would come, right?
He remembered the envelope he had left for Pepper, with two bank cards inside. Now, he thought, was one hundred million enough?
He should've put in a few more!
He thought of a saying: the saddest thing in life is that people are gone, but money remains.
If he died here, there would be too much sadness left behind!
Iron Man, where are you?
...
Kohen had been at the Baghlan Air Force Base in Afghanistan for several days now.
His current role was a professional tracker expert invited by Stark Industries to help find Stark.
He had been searching with the soldiers for two days, but there was no sign of Stark.
He did notice something odd: the soldiers around the base seemed more relaxed than expected.
It wasn't just them; even the high-ranking officers at the base were taking things slow.
Their own major supplier was missing, yet they put on a show of trying but secretly didn't seem to care much.
With the strength of the U.S. military, if Stark had been attacked, air support would have arrived within minutes.
The terrorists could kill Stark, but capturing him without being detected would be difficult.
It was very likely that Stark's godfather, Obadiah, was involved not just with the Ten Rings terrorists led by Raza, but also with high-ranking military officials.
Without a doubt, Obadiah was more deeply embedded in the U.S. military-industrial complex than Stark.
In fact, Obadiah was the true insider, not Stark.
At first, the personnel at the airbase had a hostile attitude towards Kohen's arrival.
However, once they realized that Kohen was also working slowly, just like they were, the atmosphere relaxed.
Like-minded individuals hit it off immediately.
But Kohen's goals were different from theirs.
They wanted Stark to die at the hands of terrorists, while Kohen wanted Stark to undergo a transformation and return as a king.
After all, if Stark didn't return, Kohen's plans for big money would be ruined.
Kohen wasn't idle, either. The moment he got off the plane, he was shocked.
The entire base was filled with prey!
Many were bronze level, a fair number were silver, and even generals at the golden level were present.
At night, he would wake up drenched in drool from his dreams.
Every morning, he sighed, knowing that he couldn't kill them all—there were just too many.
In such a vast base, with thousands of people, even two Gatling guns wouldn't be enough.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to hunt fat chickens, and it had to be done with extreme caution—an excellent plan was essential.
At night, the entire base fell into a deep sleep.
He quietly got up from his bed, dressed in black, avoiding cameras and patrols, and stealthily moved toward the base's classified areas.
His goal was simple: the maps.
The detailed defensive map of the U.S. military in Afghanistan, as well as the distribution maps of armed groups and terrorist bases that the military had discovered.
Several days ago, he had secretly infiltrated and installed advanced, concealed miniature listening devices in the offices and meeting rooms of important figures at several bases.
While finding the maps, he also overheard some interesting information.
For example, the U.S. military spent $6 million to airlift nine goats from Italy to "boost the Afghan cashmere industry," which ultimately turned into roasted whole goats.
To support the Afghan national army, the U.S. military spent $28 million to buy them deep green forest camouflage uniforms, only to later find out that soldiers wearing them were easily targeted by snipers.
He also overheard a CIA high-ranking officer reporting that, through the efforts of all their agents, opium cultivation in Afghanistan had increased more than twentyfold compared to before the U.S. invasion.
The production reached over 4,000 tons, more than half of the world's total output.
This effectively corroded the will and body of the Afghan people, weakening their resistance.
Next, the CIA would focus on promoting a plan to extract ephedrine from local specialty plants, aiming to make sure every Afghan household had work to do and every meal included a dose of poison.
There were also reports about "blood weddings," "entertainment shooting squads," and "righteous freedom dropping on villages."
Torture, bombing, rape, imprisonment, drug production, and trafficking—all were on the agenda.
Their actions truly matched their "prey" status.
Taking advantage of the deep night, Kohen successfully found the defense and intelligence maps in the base commander's computer.
He spent some time searching the office of the colonel in charge of the arms depot and finally found the classified document that caught his eye.
The next morning, Kohen suddenly changed his usual demeanor, angrily accusing the U.S. military of being slow and careless in searching for Stark.
After a loud argument, he left the Baghlan Air Force Base.
This didn't attract much attention, as he was just a trace expert after all.
...
One hundred kilometers outside the Baghlan Air Force Base.
A U.S. military checkpoint, located at a vital traffic hub, was manned by a dozen U.S. soldiers.
There was also a tank.
In the deep of night, the guards were dozing off. This was a safe area, and no armed conflict had occurred here for several months.
"Meow! Aaaahhh!"
A blood-curdling cat's wail tore through the night.
Ryan, who was on duty at the checkpoint, suddenly woke up. He kicked his dozing subordinate awake.
"Damn it, Gan, stop sleeping!"
The private opened his groggy eyes, looked at Ryan, and suddenly his eyes widened in terror.
"What's wrong, you see a ghost?" Ryan cursed.
The private trembled, pointing behind him, "Ghost, a ghost..."
Ryan sensed something was off and felt a cold chill rise up his back.
He turned around, and in the dim light—there was a two-meter-tall figure, with black and green scales, muscles like steel, claws like daggers, black mist coming from its eyes, and two horns on its head, staring at him with its tilted head!
Oh my God, what kind of monster is this?
Before he could think further, the terrifying claw grabbed his head.
"Bang!"
His head exploded like a watermelon.
The private Gan wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't move. He wanted to scream, but his throat was dry.
The monster stepped forward, delivering a huge paw, and Gan flew through the air.
He experienced the feeling of flying, like that day, running under the sunset...
Kohen stretched his wrists. This was his first experience with the [Demonized Body].
The effects were decent. Although his physical abilities didn't increase much, he could now emit black gas.
The black gas could corrode people's hearts and stir up madness and violence.
It was also extremely corrosive—within a short period, even steel could be corroded to form a large hole.
Most importantly, when transformed into the demon form, all traces of his human presence were masked.
At least in the future, when heading to hell or beast dimensions, he wouldn't be immediately detected.
The noise from sending the private flying seemed to have drawn attention, and there was movement in the barracks.
He didn't hesitate anymore and marched forward.
(End of Chapter)