A Little Shock from Warhammer

Alvin drove to a small town on the edge of the Afghan desert.

"Mr. Rich Guy, it's up to you now~" He stopped the car, turned to Tony in the passenger seat, and gestured for him to perform.

Tony pushed open the car door with flair. Despite his tattered clothes, he exuded gentlemanly charm.

"Is he going to hit on someone?" Yinsen, in the back seat, poked his head out, watching intently as Tony walked up to a foreign woman, provocatively ran a hand through his hair, and began to speak.

The foreign woman was so amused she was doubled over with laughter. It was clear they were getting along famously.

"Isn't that normal?"

Alvin rested a hand on the steering wheel, thinking that Yinsen hadn't seen much of the world. Tony was far more of a player than he imagined.

Yinsen watched with his own eyes as two strangers, from meeting to embracing and kissing, took less than five minutes.

Before long, Tony swaggered back, lipstick on his face, with a brand-new mobile phone in his hand.

"How did you do it?"

Yinsen couldn't understand at all how he'd managed it.

"What do you mean?"

Tony looked back at Yinsen, confused.

"Uh, I mean..." Yinsen stammered, only able to gesture with his hands to describe their embrace and kiss from earlier.

"Oh, you mean that? It's simple."

Tony said dismissively, dialing a number on his phone, "I told her my name is Tony Stark, and then it was just like you saw."

Alvin in the front nearly burst out laughing, as if hearing Yinsen's heart break.

"It's me, Pepper. I've escaped."

After dialing, Tony first reported that he was safe, then continued, "Could you call Rhodey? Yes, tell him I'm in Afghanistan, damn it, where is this place again?"

In this world, the only number Tony could remember was probably Pepper Potts'.

"Herat, this place is called Herat," Yinsen whispered as a reminder.

"Right, Herat. I'll wait for him here."

Tony swallowed again as he spoke, adding, "Tell him to hurry. And when he comes, remember to bring three burgers."

"A-and then?" Yinsen, clearly not used to the status of this legendary genius, asked, "Should we find a place to rest? And wait for someone to pick you up?"

"No need."

Alvin chimed in from the side, teasing, "Isn't there a military base right next door? They'll be here soon."

As everyone knows, the Middle East is rich in oil, and oil breeds mold.

Coincidentally, Afghanistan's strategic location in the throat of the Middle East meant it couldn't avoid being beaten up.

Given Tony Stark's background, the Department of Defense and the military would definitely take him seriously. Coupled with his friend Rhodey's Rear Admiral rank, commanding a moldy base to come and welcome him would be a piece of cake.

"This has nothing to do with me."

Tony stole a glance at Yinsen, explaining with a hint of guilt.

But thankfully, Yinsen didn't pay it much mind. His constant anxiety during the journey finally eased. "That's great. We're finally safe."

Soon, several armored vehicles drove into the town, and even two Black Hawk helicopters hovered overhead.

The sheer might of America stunned Yinsen in the back seat.

The Black captain who disembarked from the armored vehicle, his face covered in sweat, jogged up to the Humvee. "Thank goodness, Mr. Tony Stark! Thank God you're safe!"

"Where's the plane?"

Tony gave him no pleasantries, his face grim. "You're not expecting me to ride in that wreck and drive all the way back, are you?"

"No, no, no, Mr. Stark. The transport plane is just outside Herat," the Black captain said, wiping sweat from his brow, his face tense. "I've already contacted the nearby air force base. They're arranging a special flight to New York to ensure your safe return!"

Seeing the Black captain's submissive demeanor, Alvin found it hilarious.

But thinking about America's bizarre operations, it wasn't entirely incomprehensible. After all, whether in reality or in movies, weren't they always serving the rich?

"Tch, this time, someone's not going to shoot down the transport plane with a missile mid-flight, are they?" Alvin quipped from the side.

Bringing up a sore point, the Black captain looked awkward but didn't dare get angry. He could only brace himself and promise, "Mr. Stark, we can assure you, there will be absolutely no danger!"

"I don't have time for your nonsense. Lead the way,"

Tony waved his hand, too lazy to pursue the matter, and let the moldy troops lead the way.

The news of the famous Tony Stark being kidnapped in Afghanistan was already spreading throughout America.

The Department of Defense, under immense pressure, had been anxiously waiting, thanking God that this man had finally returned unharmed, without losing any limbs.

Otherwise, the congressmen couldn't even imagine the public outcry they would have faced.

Of course, outside voices couldn't affect Tony Stark.

In fact, Tony was currently in a frenzy, not even having time for Pepper Potts.

"Fuck, is this thing meant for humans?!"

Tony's eyes were bloodshot as he stared intently at the Astra Militarum standard Bolter. He was tearing at his hair, exclaiming, "What kind of psycho thought of using rockets to accelerate bullets? The recoil alone would shatter an adult's bones, it's insane, too. Brutal!"

Here come the Humans from the 2K era, complaining about 40K weapons online!

Alvin watched Tony, who was already losing it, and happily stuffed a double-patty cheeseburger into his mouth. He finished his cola with satisfaction and said comfortably, "Can you even do it? You don't seem as amazing as you bragged, struggling with something so simple?"

In truth, back in the desert, Tony had hinted, intentionally or not, that he wanted to see Alvin's weapons and equipment.

But Tony didn't know that Alvin was exploiting his curiosity, playing right into his hands.

And so, the two reached an agreement.

Alvin would hand over some of his equipment to Tony Stark for research. If there were any breakthroughs in the research, they could share the results.

It was mutually beneficial, and he was more than willing, practically begging Tony to study it thoroughly.

And then, the scene above unfolded.

"Thank goodness, if you could just shut that mouth of yours, I guarantee I could research more smoothly!"

Tony's bloodshot eyes glared at Alvin, who was leisurely eating and drinking nearby. "Also, I've told you many times, don't throw burger wrappers here!"

"What's the big deal? We have J.A.R.V.I.S. here," Alvin said nonchalantly.

"Mr. Alvin, I must remind you that I am Mr. Stark's personal intelligent butler, not a cleaning robot," J.A.R.V.I.S. seemed unable to stand it any longer and chimed in. "Sir, there's a charity gala tomorrow night, will you be attending?"

"No, no, don't bother me, J.A.R.V.I.S.!"

Tony grumbled for a moment before turning back to his research.

He was going crazy, not because the technology was too difficult to overcome, but because the original design intent of this gun completely baffled him!

What kind of madness would drive someone to create a weapon that used rockets to propel bullets?

Was this thing meant for fighting aliens?

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