Desert Sunbathing and a "Convenient" Rescue

The "sunbath" ten thousand meters in the air continued for several days. Xiao Han, like a humanoid sun hanging over New York, had thoroughly become the city's—and even the world's—most terrifying and incomprehensible spectacle. The media's initial panic-driven coverage gradually turned into all kinds of speculation and near-mythical interpretations.

The government was at its wits' end, and S.H.I.E.L.D. felt like it was sitting on pins and needles, yet they no longer dared send any aircraft near the airspace Xiao Han had designated as his "private territory."

Nick Fury's encrypted communications channel was nearly overwhelmed by the World Security Council's roaring demands for answers. He could only keep repeating Natasha's assessment report with a grim face: "Extremely dangerous, uncontrollable, recommend keeping away." His single eye remained fixed on the motionless black dot in the satellite footage, while his sense of helplessness and wariness grew by the day.

Xiao Han did not care in the slightest. His Super Hearing filtered out the clamor of the world below as mere background noise. The growth of his power was the main theme. He could feel his cells undergoing a deeper transformation beneath the sun's constant nourishment, as though evolving toward some inhumanly perfect form.

The energy of Heat Vision accumulated deep within his eyes like a volcano on the verge of eruption; the chill of Freezing Breath seemed capable of freezing the surrounding air; his super-speed made his thoughts run at an unimaginable pace, until even the wind around him appeared to stand still.

Hmm... it was about time to find somewhere hotter to sunbathe. The thought arose naturally. His Super Vision pierced the clouds and swept across the vast Earth, instantly locking onto a target—the Middle East, a boundless Gobi desert filled with yellow sand. The sunlight there was harsher, more primal, brimming with wild energy.

No sooner thought than done. Xiao Han stretched his body, then moved beneath the frantic tracking of countless satellites and ground observation stations! There was no sonic boom, no dazzling exhaust trail. His body leaned slightly forward in the high sky like an arrow leaving its bow, instantly breaking the sound barrier!

Boom—!!!

A white shockwave nearly invisible to the naked eye exploded in the sky, like a massive wound slashed across a brilliant blue canvas! Xiao Han became a blurred streak of light, tearing through the heavens toward the Middle East at a terrifying speed beyond that of any aircraft on Earth!

The cloud layer below was instantly shredded and swept aside by the violent airflow, leaving behind a straight "vacuum corridor" that refused to close for a long time.

New York's observers only saw the black dot that had hovered for days vanish abruptly. Then came a muffled boom from above as the clouds were pierced through. Panic swept through the city again.

"He... he left!" In the S.H.I.E.L.D. command center, a technician's voice carried both the relief of surviving disaster and an even deeper terror. "Direction... the Middle East! Speed... God, over Mach 20! And he's still accelerating!"

Fury shot to his feet, his single eye locked onto the rapidly retreating trajectory on the screen. "The Middle East?! What is he going there for?! Redirect every satellite! Contact every local intelligence station! I want to know his every move!"

Meanwhile, on a desolate desert highway somewhere in the Middle East.

A convoy of Humvees kicked up sand as it sped down the scorching road. In one of the vehicles, Tony Stark—genius arms dealer and billionaire, fresh from completing his groundbreaking Jericho missile demonstration—held a glass of champagne, wearing his trademark carefree grin as he chatted with Colonel Rhodes beside him.

Champagne bubbles danced inside the jolting cabin, set against the monotonous and brutal desert landscape outside the window.

Tony enjoyed the champagne, the flattery, and the supreme thrill brought by technology and wealth. He had no idea that the gears of fate were about to turn in an exceptionally brutal fashion.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Without warning! Violent explosions roared like Death itself! Flames shot into the sky! The lead Humvee was struck precisely by a rocket and instantly turned into burning scrap metal!

Then dense bullets poured down like a storm, striking the convoy's other vehicles with teeth-grinding metallic clangs!

"RPG! Enemy attack! Take cover!" Colonel Rhodes's furious roar was instantly swallowed by the sea of explosions and gunfire.

The well-trained Stark Industries bodyguards and American soldiers reacted quickly, trying to use the vehicles as cover while returning fire. But the attackers had clearly come prepared, with fierce firepower and the advantage of terrain. Screams, explosions, and the shriek of tearing metal intertwined into a symphony of hell.

A rocket trailing flames, carrying Death's savage grin, shot directly toward the Humvee Tony was in!

The smile froze on Tony's face. His wineglass slipped from his hand and shattered, amber liquid splashing across his expensive suit. The shadow of death engulfed him in an instant.

He instinctively raised his arm, his eyes filled with fear of death and unwillingness to let go of life. Colonel Rhodes's eyes nearly split open, yet he could do nothing!

At that critical moment!

Time seemed to have been switched to slow motion.

A blurry figure, moving faster than the human retina could possibly track, appeared between the deadly rocket and Tony's Humvee as if teleporting! No one saw how he arrived. It was as though he had always been there.

It was Xiao Han.

He had just arrived above this desert and was about to find a sand dune to enjoy a proper "sunbath" when his Super Hearing caught the familiar terrified heartbeat of Tony Stark below, along with the explosions.

Oh? So it was starting already? He raised an eyebrow. Purely out of the perverse amusement of "since I'm already here, might as well watch it live," he instantly descended onto the battlefield.

Facing the rocket at point-blank range, carrying devastating energy, Xiao Han did not even raise an eyelid. He even had the leisure to dust off the sand that did not exist on his sweatpants.

Then, he extended one finger.

Yes, only one index finger.

His fingertip tapped the rocket's sharp warhead with incomparable precision as it sped toward him!

There was no explosion!

No fire!

Time seemed to freeze for an instant.

The next moment, the rocket capable of blasting a Humvee into the air was like a popped soap bubble, or a soda can instantly crushed inward by an invisible colossal force, releasing a scalp-numbing metallic groan!

Creak—squelch!

The body of refined steel, together with the powerful explosives inside, was forcibly compressed, collapsed, and kneaded inward from the tip by the incomprehensible, overwhelming strength contained in Xiao Han's single finger! The entire process was as fast as an illusion!

In less than one-tenth of a second!

A complete rocket had turned into a fist-sized lump of metal, smoking blue-gray smoke, with scorching droplets of molten metal still flowing over its surface and its internal structure utterly destroyed!

It lost all momentum and explosive power. Like scrap discarded by a mischievous child, it fell onto the scorching sand with a clang, instantly heating the grains until they hissed and gave off white smoke.

Dead silence!

The battlefield, which had been filled with bullets and booming explosions moments ago, instantly fell into absolute, suffocating silence!

Whether they were the attacking terrorists or the surviving American soldiers and bodyguards, everyone seemed to have been struck by a petrification spell, frozen in the movements from a second earlier, eyes bulging and jaws nearly dropping to the ground.

They stared in disbelief at the young man who had suddenly appeared on the desert highway, dressed in casual sportswear and using only one finger to "snuff out" a rocket!

Tony Stark slumped in the Humvee's back seat, his heart pounding so hard it nearly burst through his chest, sweat soaking his expensive shirt.

He stared fixedly at the figure outside the window with his back to him, at the finger that had just created a miracle-like scene. For the first time, his genius mind completely crashed, unable to process the sight before him, which transcended every law of physics and scientific understanding!

Xiao Han withdrew his finger and casually blew on it as though he had merely pinched out a cigarette butt. Only then did he slowly turn around, sweeping his gaze over the terrorists frozen in place. His eyes were calm, even carrying a trace of... boredom?

"Hey," he said. His voice was not loud, yet it clearly carried over the wind and the crackling of burning vehicles in the distance, possessing a strange penetrating power. He spoke flawless Arabic—instantly mastered by his Super-Brain. "Didn't your boss tell you that interrupting someone's sunbath is very rude?"

The terrorists looked at one another, somewhat dumbfounded by the utterly inappropriate question.

The leader was the first to react. His immense fear was instantly replaced by even more vicious madness.

"Fire! Kill him!" he roared, his AK-47 spitting flames! The other terrorists snapped back to their senses and wildly unleashed bullets from every kind of weapon toward Xiao Han!

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat—!

The metal storm swallowed Xiao Han's figure once again!

Yet it was exactly like what had happened beneath the Empire State Building. Dense warheads struck an invisible force field, producing crisp impacts like rain beating on banana leaves before deforming and bouncing away. Xiao Han stood in the center of the bullet storm without even his clothes shifting, then yawned in boredom.

"Tch. Desert flies are even more annoying than New York's," he muttered.

When the terrorists discovered in horror that their magazines had run dry while their target remained completely unscathed, despair curled around their hearts like cold venomous snakes.

Xiao Han's gaze finally turned cold. That bored teasing vanished, replaced by the indifference of someone looking down upon ants. "Since you like playing with fire so much," he said icily, "then let me... cool you down."

He opened his mouth slightly and gently exhaled toward the fan-shaped area ahead.

Whoosh—!!!

A visible white blast of frost, radiating an extreme, bone-deep chill, erupted forth like the deadly breath of the far northern ice fields!

The air froze instantly with cracking explosions! Wherever the frost passed, the scorching sand instantly formed a thick layer of ice, and the temperature plummeted to one hundred degrees below zero!

Those terrorists who were changing magazines or trying to find cover did not even have time to scream before their bodies were completely frozen the instant they came into contact with the icy breath!

Their movements froze in their final moments, terror and madness still etched on their faces. They became lifelike ice sculptures coated in thick frost! Their weapons, vehicle wreckage, even the still-burning flames, were swallowed and frozen by the extreme cold in an instant!

Within a radius of dozens of meters, the area instantly became a crystal-clear, deathly silent hell of ice! Sunlight struck the frozen figures, refracting eerie yet beautiful halos.

The surviving American soldiers and bodyguards stared at the scene as though a myth had descended into reality. They collectively lost their voices, their teeth chattering uncontrollably—half from the cold, half from fear.

As though he had merely done something trivial, Xiao Han clapped his hands and turned toward the surviving Humvee. His gaze pierced through the window and settled on the shaken Tony Stark.

That smile appeared on his face again, one that made Tony's heart pound wildly—a smile carrying amusement and malicious playfulness.

"Hey, bearded uncle," Xiao Han's voice returned to its lazy drawl, as though he had not just frozen dozens of human ice pops with a single breath. "Your complexion looks terrible. You were in for a bloody disaster today. So, were you satisfied with the 'cooling' service? No tips needed."

Tony opened his mouth. After suffering through the series of absurd shocks—an incoming rocket, a finger stopping a missile, and breath that turned people to ice—his genius brain completely failed to reboot. In the end, he could only squeeze out a dry, meaningless syllable: "...What... F?"

Xiao Han shrugged, seemingly disappointed by Tony's reaction. "Looks like he was scared stupid." He looked up at the harsh sun in the sky and nodded in satisfaction. "Mm, the sunlight here tastes good. It has some kick."

He no longer paid any attention to Tony or the stunned survivors, as though they were merely insignificant stones by the roadside. He pushed lightly against the ground, and his body floated upward as if weightless. Then, beneath everyone's vacant stares, he leisurely flew toward the top of the tallest nearby sand dune.

The sunlight there was just right.

He landed lightly on the scorching dune, casually brushed aside some sand, and then... as if performing a magic trick, pulled that familiar faded beach recliner from the pocket of his utterly ordinary hoodie! He set it firmly atop the dune.

Before the ghost-struck gazes of Tony Stark, Colonel Rhodes, and every surviving soldier, Xiao Han comfortably lay down, folded his hands behind his head, closed his eyes, and wore an expression of utter satisfaction.

The blazing sunlight mercilessly scorched the desert, and the air twisted from the heat. Below lay burning vehicle wreckage, the smoking lump of metal, dozens of terrorist ice sculptures radiating icy chill, and a group of shaken survivors who looked as though they had just awakened from a nightmare.

Yet atop the sand dune, a young man in sportswear leisurely enjoyed a sunbath as though he were lying on a Caribbean beach.

The image was filled with absurdity, eeriness, and a suffocating kind of power and... utter freedom.

Tony Stark stared through the window at the figure on the dune bathed in golden light. His genius mind finally began to work with difficulty, as endless questions, shock, lingering fear, and an unprecedented feeling that his understanding of the world had collapsed came rushing in.

"Rhodey..." Tony's voice was dry and hoarse, trembling in a way he himself had not noticed. "Did... did you see that recliner? Where... where did he pull it from?!"

Colonel Rhodes wore the same blank expression. He instinctively wiped the mixture of sweat and sand from his face, muttering, "Tony... I think... compared to that damn recliner... we should be more concerned about... what exactly... that thing is?!"

Atop the sand dune.

Xiao Han's Super Hearing caught Tony and Rhodes's conversation, and an imperceptible curve formed at the corner of his mouth.

What was he?

Just a cheat who knew everyone's script and could not be bothered to follow it...

He contentedly turned over, letting the sunlight shine on his back.

This desert sun really had some punch. His power was growing much faster than it had in New York. It seemed moonlighting as a "desert rescue team" every now and then was not such a bad idea. Hmm... where should he sunbathe next? The peak of the Himalayas? Or... straight to the equator?