But I'm Not Tony Stark

After what happened at the party, Tony's anger was completely ignited.

If he had remained unaware that his own company was secretly supplying weapons—especially Jericho missiles—to places like Gulmira, perhaps he could have continued immersing himself in the thrill of building new armor and achieving technological breakthroughs.

But now that he knew, there was no way he could stand by and do nothing. This directly prompted the Mark III, which had just completed its final adjustments and solved numerous issues, to undergo its first real combat deployment.

Having learned from the Mark II's cumbersome donning and removal process, Tony had put considerable thought into renovating an area of his underground lab. It had now become a fully automated platform composed of multiple mechanical arms, servo motors, multi-angle positioning rails, and an intelligent control system.

Tony stepped into the center of the platform and spread his arms.

The mechanical platform began to hum. Several mechanical arms moved with lifelike agility, sequentially fitting the red-and-gold armor components onto Tony's body.

Leg armor, arm armor, chest armor, back armor, helmet... Each component was lifted by the mechanical arms, calibrated, and fitted into its corresponding position on Tony's body. The entire process was smooth, efficient, and possessed a uniquely mechanical beauty.

Before long, Tony was completely encased in the Mark III armor, gleaming with a red-and-gold metallic sheen. Once suited up, the Mark III became a streak of red and gold that cut through the sky, flying toward Gulmira, Afghanistan.

The sight of Gulmira was even more horrifying than it had been in the photographs.

Ruined walls and shattered buildings lay everywhere. Armed militants wielding Stark Industries weapons were arrogantly creating fresh misery across this smoke-filled land.

The Mark III's red-and-gold figure descended like a grim reaper from the heavens, or a mechanical angel