Saving Private Tony

In Afghanistan in June, the days were scorching like a steamer, while the nights were freezing like an ice cellar.

Chen Xiao wore a tank top and floral shorts, lounging lazily beneath the shadow of a dead tree as if he were vacationing on a beach.

Observation Haki stretched out like invisible tentacles, passing through rocks, sand, and heat waves to precisely lock onto a cave several kilometers away.

This was not his first time in Afghanistan.

Ever since learning that Tony had been kidnapped, he had combed through the entire region using the information Pepper Potts had provided. With Lightning Elementalization and Observation Haki, his search efficiency rivaled that of a satellite.

It had not taken much effort for him to find Tony Stark getting beaten up inside that cave.

But he had not rescued him right away.

On one hand, he did not want to interfere with Iron Man's growth. If Tony did not hammer together that pile of scrap metal in the cave, how was he supposed to save the world later? Reality was not a movie; you could not just skip straight to the important scenes.

On the other hand... watching Tony get beaten up for running his mouth was pretty satisfying.

"Serves you right for mocking me back then." When Chen Xiao had first found the cave, he had squatted atop a distant sand dune and watched the terrorists beat Tony for his sharp tongue. He had felt no sympathy whatsoever—if anything, he had wanted to laugh. "Look at you now. Getting beaten up for running your mouth."

Still, to give him a hand at the critical moment, Chen Xiao would occasionally come by to check on their progress.

At this moment, his senses penetrated the rock, letting him "see" the scene inside the cave.

The cave was small, with humid, stifling air. Several dim oil lamps hung from the rock walls, their weak yellow light cutting through the haze of smoke. Boxes of Stark Industries missiles—Jericho—were piled in a corner, their dismantled casings, circuit boards, and wires scattered everywhere like some mad electronic scrapyard. Two men, filthy with oil and dust, crouched before a crude workbench.

The younger one had an unkempt beard, sunken cheeks, and dark circles beneath his eyes. He wore a ragged gray T-shirt, his right hand wrapped in bandages while his left held a welding torch against a curved metal plate. The arc light illuminated his face. A glowing circular device was embedded in his chest, its faint blue radiance visible through his worn shirt.

That was Tony Stark—the former billionaire, playboy, technological genius, and the most despised yet envied man in America. Now, he was like a trapped beast in a cage, desperately trying to bite his way to survival.

The older man had graying hair, gentle features, and steady movements. His name was Ethan. He passed tools over while speaking softly, occasionally helping Tony hold a part in place. His hands were covered in burns and cuts, yet when he handed over a wrench, they were as steady as a machine.

The two would occasionally pause to catch their breath, exchange a glance, then lower their heads and resume working. The unfinished metal shell on the table had already begun to take human form. If Chen Xiao remembered correctly, it would later be called Mark One, the ancestor of the Iron Man armor.

"Honestly," Chen Xiao silently commented, "it's ugly as hell, but being able to build this in an environment like this is seriously badass."

He noticed that Tony's hands trembled as he welded—not from fear, but exhaustion. Ethan handed him a piece of dry rations from who knew where. Tony wolfed it down, took a drink of water, and continued working.

Chen Xiao withdrew his Observation Haki, opened his eyes, and sighed.

"Tony Stark." He raised his bottle of cola in a casual toast to the air. "You look pretty inspiring when you work hard. But honestly, if Vanity Fair caught you looking like this, you'd definitely win Worst Dressed next year."

He took a sip of cola, savoring the icy liquid sliding down his throat, and narrowed his eyes comfortably.

"Ethan is seriously impressive. He can still calmly hand over wrenches in this kind of environment. If it were me, I'd have sewn Tony's mouth shut long ago. How can Stark still talk so much after being locked up? I can practically 'hear' him rambling from kilometers away."

He looked at the sky. The sun was about to set. Desert nights came quickly, and the temperature would drop by twenty degrees. Wearing floral shorts and a tank top, Chen Xiao would probably turn into a popsicle if he stayed here overnight.

"All right, today's progress is decent." He stood and dusted off the sand. "Mark One should be finished within the next couple of days. I'll come pick you up then, Tony. Don't keep me waiting too long."

He stood and glanced toward the cave. After briefly turning elemental and returning to human form, all the sand clinging to him simply fell away. With a casual swipe, he opened a portal and collapsed onto the leather sofa Daniel had just picked up.

With his legs crossed, he played on his phone, thought about Stark's miserable situation, and took another sip from the cola on the coffee table.

"Comfortable."

One month earlier, New York Sanctum.

Chen Xiao sat cross-legged in the basement, atop a complex golden magic formation. Every line in the formation trembled faintly like a taut string, radiating a gentle glow. Golden light filled the entire basement, making it look like the site of some mysterious religious ritual.

This was the quarterly reinforcement of the Sanctum Defense Formation.

Daniel stood at the edge of the formation with a glowing magic stone in hand, looking as grave as if he were performing heart surgery. He wore formal sorcerer robes, his hair combed meticulously, forming a stark contrast with Chen Xiao beside him in a T-shirt and baggy shorts.

"Chief, this is a key node. You need to infuse your magic power into this spot." Daniel pointed to a complex rune at the center of the formation. "Then I'll replace the depleted materials. It cannot be interrupted during that time, or we'll have to start over."

Chen Xiao asked, "Then who did it before?"

"Normally, it was done by me, Sorcerer Sol Rama, and Sorcerer Tina Min together. Or the Sorcerer Supreme would personally handle it."

Chen Xiao processed that in his head.

Daniel Drumm—the guardian of the New York Sanctum.

Sol Rama—the guardian of the London Sanctum.

Tina Min—the guardian of the Hong Kong Sanctum.

"We basically take turns reinforcing it every quarter," Daniel added. Then he hesitated. "The Sorcerer Supreme said you need to familiarize yourself with these formations."

Chen Xiao fell silent for two seconds.

"So Teacher means I'm supposed to do the work of three people by myself?"

"You could understand it that way."

"...She really thinks highly of me. The next time you contact her, ask whether I can get overtime pay."

Daniel pretended not to hear.

And so Chen Xiao sat inside the formation for three days.

For those three days, his life consisted of sitting, infusing magic power, and replacing materials. Drinking water, sitting, infusing magic power, replacing materials, going to the bathroom, sitting, infusing magic power, eating, sitting...

Every few hours, Daniel would come down to check the progress, hand him a glass of water, say, "Chief, you've worked hard," then quietly leave. Chen Xiao felt like a human power bank, his magic power pouring out in streams while the formation grew brighter and brighter.

"Daniel," Chen Xiao could not help asking on the second day, "just how important is this formation?"

"Very important, Chief. It is the core of the New York Sanctum's defense system. If something goes wrong, dimensional rifts could appear anywhere."

"How long did it take when the three of you did it before?"

"Three days as well."

Chen Xiao paused. "So one person takes three days, and three people also take three days?"

"Yes, Chief."

"Then why do you need three people? To take turns resting?"

Daniel thought about it. "...Probably to keep one person from getting too bored."

Chen Xiao stared at him for two seconds, then laughed. "Your deadpan jokes are improving."

Daniel gave a blank-faced bow and withdrew.

On the evening of the third day, the final ring of lines in the formation stabilized. The golden light receded, and the basement returned to its usual dimness. Chen Xiao let out a long breath and climbed off the floor, his legs completely numb. Supporting himself against the wall, he shuffled out of the basement like an old lady.

"Chief, are you all right?" Daniel waited at the stairs with a cup of warm water.

"I'm fine. My ass just has no feeling left." Chen Xiao accepted the water and took a sip. "I feel like I sat my ass into a whole new shape."

Daniel chose not to respond.

Chen Xiao leaned against the wall and sat on the sofa. The first thing he did was grab his phone.

There were more than a dozen missed calls, all from the same unfamiliar number. There was also a text message.

"Mr. Chen, this is Pepper Potts. Something happened to Tony. Please help me."

It had been sent two days ago.

Chen Xiao stared at the text, and his mind buzzed.

Oh no. I got so busy that I forgot.

He hurriedly called back. The call was answered after a single ring. Pepper's voice was hoarse and urgent. "Mr. Chen? You finally answered!"

"Miss Potts, slow down."

"Tony is... missing in Afghanistan. The military can't find him, and neither can our people. I found your business card. You said that if something happened, I could come to you... Can you..."

"Wait a moment. I'll be right there."

After hanging up, Chen Xiao took a deep breath and cursed himself.

He had been busy reinforcing the formation these past two days and had set his phone to silent. A few days before that, he had been immersed in exploring New York's food scene—he had visited Julian's restaurant several times and dragged Daniel around in search of good food. News from Stark Industries? Tony being kidnapped? Sorry, he had completely forgotten.

"Daniel!" he called.

Daniel ran downstairs. "Chief?"

"I'm going out to handle something. Keep an eye on the Sanctum."

"Now?"

"Now."

As soon as he finished speaking, Chen Xiao's body became a streak of brilliant blue lightning. With a sharp crackle, he shot out through the window and vanished into the horizon.

Daniel's hair stood on end from the electricity. Expressionlessly, he smoothed it down.

"Couldn't he have used a portal?"

Stark Industries Tower, Pepper Potts's office.

She sat behind her desk, with a pile of documents spread out before her—military reports, satellite images, assessments from private security firms. Every document bore the same conclusion: Tony Stark was missing, and his whereabouts were unknown.

She had stayed awake for several nights straight. Three coffee cups were stacked together, the trash can was stuffed with energy bar wrappers, and the documents on her desk were piled up like a small mountain. Her hair was disheveled, the bags under her eyes prominent, and her lips dry and cracked.

The military was searching. The security companies were searching. Happy had also taken people to Afghanistan. But the place was too vast, and no one knew who had taken him, so they could only conduct a carpet search. Every piece of intelligence pointed in a different direction. Some said east, some said west, some said north, and some said Tony was already dead.

Pepper pressed both hands to her forehead and closed her eyes.

She wondered whether she had gone mad. She had actually placed her hopes on a young man she had met only once.

A blue business card. A simple promise.

He was even just an ordinary person, with no credentials that inspired trust, no background, no resources—only a phone number.

But she had no other options.

She called, but no one answered. She texted, but received no reply.

It had been two days.

Pepper tossed her phone onto the desk, leaned back in her chair, and stared at the ceiling.

"Tony," she whispered, "where are you...?"

At that moment, an extremely faint crackle, like static electricity, sounded outside the window.

Before she could turn her head, a streak of brilliant blue lightning shot in through the gap in the open window and exploded in the center of the office. It did not strike anything. Instead, it gathered in midair, contracted, and took shape.

As the arcs faded, a young man in a tank top and floral shorts appeared before her. A few strands of blue electricity still danced around his feet. He wore flip-flops, and he looked as though he had just returned from a beach vacation.

Pepper opened her mouth but could not speak.

Her mind went through several stages in that instant.

First stage: What is that?

Second stage: Lightning turned into a person.

Third stage: I've seen this person before.

Chen Xiao looked around her office, his gaze sweeping over the mountains of documents, empty coffee cups, and energy bar wrappers. He frowned slightly. Then, without a word, he walked to the small refrigerator in the corner, took out an ice-cold cola, twisted off the cap, and took a sip before smiling at Pepper.

"Miss Potts, sorry. I was busy the past two days and missed your calls." He shook the cola bottle in his hand. "Now, give me Tony's information."

Pepper froze for two seconds, then abruptly stood up. She moved too quickly, sending her chair sliding half a meter backward before it hit the wall with a dull thud. Flustered, she gathered the documents on the desk into a stack and handed them over, her fingers trembling.

"These are... the coordinates from the military, the reports Happy sent back, and the satellite images..." She paused, drew a breath, and forced out a question. "What are you?"

Chen Xiao took the documents and rolled his eyes.

There were satellite photos, topographical maps, marked coordinates, and handwritten notes. He read them quickly, like he was scanning them, and casually replied, "You're very polite, aren't you? I'm just an ordinary person who knows a few little tricks."

He closed the documents and looked up at Pepper. Her eyes were red, her lips trembled slightly, but there was a resolute look in her eyes that said, "I have nowhere else to go."

"Don't worry," Chen Xiao said, his tone more serious than usual. "If I promise something, I'll see it through. Tony will come back."

Pepper's eyes immediately reddened. She bit her lip, trying hard not to let the tears fall.

Chen Xiao took out his phone and photographed the pages one by one. Once he finished, he organized the original documents and handed them back to Pepper.

"I'm taking these with me," he said. "Get some rest. Don't worry, I'll handle it."

He glanced at the three stacked coffee cups and added, "Seriously, go get some sleep. When Tony gets back and sees you like this, he'll say, 'Pepper, why do you take even worse care of yourself than I do?'"

Pepper's lips curled upward slightly at his imitation of Tony's tone.

Chen Xiao turned around, and his body became lightning once again. Blue electricity coiled around him. His flip-flops turned into electric arcs first, followed by his legs, body, arms, and head. He was like a drawing being erased by an invisible rubber.

"Oh, right." His voice came from within the blue light, carrying a hint of amusement. "That autograph Tony signed on a napkin—when he gets back, have him replace it with a proper one. The kind written on a checkbook."

With a crackle, the lightning shot out through the window and disappeared into the sky above Manhattan.

The office returned to silence. Only the lingering smell of ozone in the air proved that what had just happened was not an illusion.

Pepper stood where she was, staring in the direction the lightning had vanished, the documents in her hands scattered across the floor. She remained in that position for around ten seconds before slowly sitting back down.

Her gaze fell on the coffee table—Chen Xiao's freshly opened bottle of cola sat there, still beaded with condensation and cold to the touch.

She suddenly smiled, and tears fell with it.