Tony Stark Missing

Chapter 33: Tony Stark Missing

Even though Duke now looked like he had mutated, being able to survive was already a godsend for John.

Still, he was somewhat surprised that a high school student actually had a Regeneration Potion in hand.

"How much do you want for it?" he asked. Though he had been a killer for years, most of his earnings were in killer coins. He had a few hundred million in cash, but a Regeneration Potion that could bring someone back from the brink of death was obviously a sky-high price.

"Let's call it three hundred million, plus you owe me a favor," Merlin said casually.

"As for the side effects..." He glanced at the fierce Beagle in the cage. "I think leaving them on the dog isn't bad either. It'll give you some peace of mind."

John looked at his beloved dog too. It had become a bit strange, but somehow a lot cooler.

Although the Regeneration Potion was mainly designed for human genes, extracting the stem cell effects and applying them to an animal still worked quite well.

Aside from some physical changes, its rationality remained intact.

"This software... did you install it for me?" Now that his dog's safety was confirmed, John finally remembered the R-Star app.

He pulled out his phone as he spoke.

"No. I'm just the shop manager under this Game Platform. Once you become a player, you can earn rewards by completing missions, then buy vehicles and weapons from me."

"Have you checked the in-game store? What I sell is exactly what's listed there."

John nodded in understanding.

"So, the mission to wipe out the Russian Gang—did you post that too?"

"Yeah. Can you handle it? If not, you can team up with other players and split the reward however you want."

"I don't have time to help you lately." Merlin yawned. He had stayed up all night researching and had no energy left to get involved.

"No need." John shook his head with a cold expression. Even without Merlin's mission, he would never let the Russian Gang off.

At the same time, the Russian Gang's leader had also set his sights on John. The man in the driver's seat of the Ford Mustang last night was his son, and he blamed John for his death.

He believed that only John, once ranked number one in the assassin world, could have pulled it off.

"Up to you. Your dog can stay here for observation for a while. If you want to hang around longer, feel free, but don't disturb my sleep."

With that, Merlin, looking utterly exhausted, left the temporary reception hall and returned to his rest room.

John watched Merlin's back disappear, then turned back to his dog. The feeling of having it back after nearly losing it made him unable to resist taking it out of the cage.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

When Merlin woke up, John still hadn't left. He was petting his beloved dog.

"Woof woof woof!!!"

The moment the Beagle saw Merlin, it immediately barked furiously at him, even trying to lunge out and bite him.

But John held it back.

"Bick!"

"Alright, alright, I just neutered you. It's for your own good—prevents all kinds of troubles and diseases." Merlin said lazily as he walked past.

It was already six in the evening. Gwen should be waiting for him.

After washing up, he returned to the temporary reception hall.

John still hadn't left, clearly waiting for something.

"I want to buy some weapons from you—an MK2 Heavy Sniper Rifle, various types of Special Bullets, a Ballistic Knife, and an MK2 Heavy Revolver."

When Merlin came back from washing up, John listed the weapons he wanted to purchase.

They were all special weapons. He wanted them for special occasions; his regular gear was already enough for everyday use.

"Fine, follow me."

After seeing off the determined John, Merlin rode his motorcycle to find Gwen, who was waiting for him next to Osborn Industries.

"Good evening." Merlin greeted weakly and sat down across from her. Food was already laid out on the table.

"Are you okay?" Gwen looked at Merlin's current state with concern.

"I'm fine. I can still hold up."

Having slept all day, Merlin was hungry. Without another word, he sat down, picked up a sandwich, and started eating.

Gwen smiled awkwardly. After all, her Genetic Mutation had greatly enhanced her physique, but her childhood friend was still an ordinary person. This kind of round-the-clock schedule was indeed rough on him.

To avoid feeling uncomfortable, she pulled out her phone to distract herself.

"Oh? Merlin, look at this news. Tony Stark, the CEO of Stark Industries, was attacked in Afghanistan. He's missing now."

"A lot of people are gloating in the comments."

Merlin took a sip of juice, then took the phone to glance at it.

[Tony Stark traveled to Afghanistan and was attacked by terrorists. He is now missing and presumed dead.]

[Obadiah issued a statement, vowing to find Tony Stark.]

[The Department of Defense issued a statement...]

[Congress issued a statement, warning Afghanistan...]

The entire internet seemed ready to explode, flooded with news reports about Tony Stark's terrorist attack, and all parties quickly issued statements, either resolute or condemnatory.

Beneath these news articles, however, were mostly gloating comments.

[The arms dealer got caught—God must have finally had enough.]

[Death merchant, spreading death, will only end in death.]

[Suddenly I feel the terrorists did the right thing. Satisfying. This way, the refugees in war zones will suffer a little less.]

Merlin glanced at it twice and lost interest. He had anticipated this long ago.

He wasn't too alarmed either. It would take a few more days before anything happened.

For now, the priority was to develop the Serum as quickly as possible.

"The people at Stark Industries and the Department of Defense must be in an uproar by now," Gwen said, not particularly concerned. Her connection to Stark Industries was shallow; she was just an onlooker enjoying the drama.

The two ordered a cup of coffee to stay alert. After waiting a few hours, as the sky darkened, they began making their way to Osborn Industries with practiced ease.

Afghanistan, inside an unknown Gobi Cave.

Under dim light, the once-spirited Stark now had a pale face, clutching a battery like a dejected vagrant.

Beside him was Doctor Ethan, a thin man wearing glasses.

Stark was still alive thanks to the man's superb medical skills and ingenuity.

Shrapnel had embedded itself near the ventricle of Stark's heart. If not for the magnet Ethan had rigged from the battery to temporarily hold the fragments in place, once they flowed into his heart, no matter how tenacious Stark's vitality was, it would have been hopeless.