Target Lost!

Bang!

Tony fired a flare into the sky.

The signal flare drew an arc-shaped trajectory, flying a hundred meters into the high air before slowly descending.

The crimson illumination light was particularly conspicuous in the desert at night, bright enough to clearly illuminate the faces of the two people on the ground.

"Alright, wait a few more minutes and someone will come to pick us up." Tony casually tossed the flare gun aside.

A flare appeared near the garrison base, and the US military would definitely use satellites to check it, at which point they would discover him here and immediately send a rescue team.

Tony looked at Yensen. "Come to the United States with me, Yensen, and bring your family over too."

He could tell that Yensen had been hesitating to speak since just now.

Yensen's expression was somewhat complicated. "My family are all already dead. Actually, Tony, I'd rather return to Iran and do my best to help more people in need."

The words Tony had just prepared were instantly blocked in his throat, and he realized that the savior before him had a far more painful past.

But that made him all the more determined to bring Yensen to the United States.

"Yensen..." He spoke, filled with apology and heaviness. "I didn't know... about your family, I'm sorry."

Yensen shook his head to indicate it didn't matter.

Tony continued, "I can understand the thought of wanting to return to your hometown."

He could tell that Yensen carried an obvious intent to die, and returning to his hometown was actually a desire to do something self-sacrificing for a greater cause.

He paused. "However, what Leon said earlier was right. When I go back this time, it's to help more people."

"The contribution I can make to this world."

"Shouldn't just be manufacturing some things that explode."

He tapped the Arc Reactor on his chest with his fingertips, his gaze burning. "Yensen, you can come with me. We can better help those hurt by violence, and then change this world for the better."

Yensen stared blankly at the Arc Reactor. That truly was technology sufficient to change the world, and he felt some hesitation.

Boom!

Suddenly, a roaring engine sound came from afar, growing louder and louder.

A patrol plane approached from a distance.

"The flare was only sent up half a minute ago, and the rescue plane is already here?" Yensen couldn't help exclaiming. "Their efficiency is really high!"

Then he watched with his own eyes as the plane skimmed over their heads and flew far into the distance.

"...It doesn't seem to be a rescue team. It looks like a light patrol plane. I guess it's going after Leon; he was spotted by the base."

Tony gazed at the distant fighter jet. "However, the speed hasn't even reached Mach, they won't be able to catch Leon."

"Let's wait a bit longer. Who asked Leon's entrance to be too flashy, catching everyone's attention."

"Next time I put on the Mark armor, though, I'll definitely be able to catch the eyes of those rednecks in the military even more."

Tony took a few steps in place. "Of course, there's yours too. You'll have to have a suit of armor of your own by then."

"By then we can have a team called... the Mark Squad? That doesn't seem quite right, called..."

Time passed in Tony's chatter for three minutes, and another dense roar of engines faintly came from the horizon.

It was a formation composed of three helicopters.

"Whoa! Look, our rescue team is here!"

The two men, parched and exhausted from staying in the desert, jumped and waved on the ground.

On the other side.

Just as Tony said, Leon was not caught by the patrol plane.

After all, half a minute was enough distance for him to fly back and forth several times.

When the patrol plane had chased him halfway, he had long since flown out of Afghanistan carrying the Mark armor and blueprints.

Unexpectedly, however, upon entering California, Leon encountered a blockade by another batch of fighter jets.

--After finding Tony's treasures from the collapsed cave.

He had flown over the skies of Afghanistan with the armor straight to the thermosphere of the outer atmosphere.

Then he accelerated to Mach 30.

It took him only twenty minutes to cross most of the globe and return to North America.

He lowered his altitude above the western coast of the Pacific Ocean, decelerated to low supersonic speed, and flew into California.

The Stark household mansion was on the West Coast shore of Los Angeles, California.

He only needed to cross the Coast Ranges within California to arrive.

Yet because he reduced his speed too much, but still not enough, the moment he crossed the border, he was caught on camera by the satellite above.

On the monitoring screen of the US military base.

A figure moving at nearly twice the speed of sound above the mountain range caught the operator's attention.

After zooming in for observation, they were surprised to find that it was a small flying unit.

Although the target's imaging was somehow blurry and unclear (shrouded by the Biological Force Field).

It looked very much like a humanoid object in flight.

The soldiers immediately reported the situation to their superiors.

"What is that? Connect to their communications and have them land for inspection! Whether it's the CIA or the Navy, let this good thing land for us to see first!" The commander said with a serious expression.

"Sir, the target's radio is unresponsive!"

"Sir, the CIA and the Navy just contacted us, asking if that flying object is ours, and demanding intelligence be submitted!"

"Us? We have such small, nearly Mach 2, long-endurance good stuff?"

"Not yet, sir!"

"Shit! Go to the Advanced Weapons Research Division and have Colonel Rhodey come over!"

"Colonel Rhodey went to Afghanistan to look for Tony Stark, sir!"

"Goddamn! Then give me database matching! Radar lock! Satellite lock! Give me the clearest satellite map!"

"Reporting, sir! Database match shows no similar records! Target cross-section is too small for radar lock! Satellite map appears blurred due to unknown interference! What do we do, sir?"

"---What the fuck? Can someone tell me what this thing that appeared out of nowhere and is flying right towards our heads actually is?"

"Don't know, sir!"

"Damn it! Are there high-altitude surveillance units in the West Coast Mountains region? Dispatch them and shoot this thing down!"

"Yes, sir!"

Leon was originally just flying bored and silently toward Los Angeles.

Suddenly, his ears twitched, and he tilted his body to look up.

He heard the roaring sounds of four engines deviating from their course and approaching him.

"I was spotted by a satellite?" Leon guessed, slowing down slightly to check the situation. "Was it because I wasn't fast enough that I got noticed? What a hassle."

"Flying below Mach is too slow, and low supersonic speeds make it easy for satellites to detect abnormalities and lock on immediately."

"Maybe next time I should consider maintaining a flight speed of Mach 10 or above."

At this moment, a voice came into his ear again.

"Target locked!" a pilot shouted over the radio.

"Missile launcher ready, awaiting final orders!"

The commander in the US military base gave the order: "Aim! Fire! Shoot that flying object down for me!"

"Global Hawk received!"

"AWACS received!"

Four aircraft dove from high altitude. Although it was still difficult to close the distance to Leon, it was enough to hit the target with airborne missiles.

"Launch!"

Missile after missile shot out, their speed climbing to over Mach 5 within seconds, chasing straight after Leon.

Leon looked back, his gaze piercing through the clouds to see the missiles spewing fire several thousand meters away.

That was high-power weaponry sufficient to destroy any aerial vehicle.

Yet for him today, it couldn't even scratch an itch.

And so Leon suddenly had the impulse to stop and catch the missiles, then emerge spotless from the flames, shocking the eyes of the US military personnel.

As the saying goes, having the Man of Steel without showing off is like walking in embroidered clothes in the night.

Showing off is a deep-seated desire engraved in human genes.

Abraham Maslow once listed the need for showing off on the fourth tier of the five human needs hierarchies.

When people are well-fed, free from life-threatening dangers, and have a certain level of socialization, they will naturally want to show off.

Leon couldn't escape this worldly desire either.

However, he thought about it.

Over the next period, Tony would definitely manufacture a new armor and come out to show off after returning.

The movie had that scene where Tony's show-off failed and he was bombed by US military fighter jets.

So, rather than showing off this wave now.

It would be much more satisfying to wait until Tony was full of himself and then got his face slapped by the US military before making an appearance.

After all, showing off in front of a good brother was the only way to reap the highest level of psychological satisfaction.

Just thinking of the expression Tony would wear at that moment...

Leon couldn't help curving the corners of his mouth.

Now possessing Superman-like abilities, he didn't want to go acting like Homelander or yelling that he didn't eat beef.

He only wanted to keep continuously strengthening his power, and then in the process of growing stronger, do things that made himself happy.

For instance—flexing in front of Tony in a way Tony wanted to flex but couldn't.

Thinking of this.

Leon raised his head to look at the missiles hurtling down from above the thick clouds, his mind stirring as his speed instantly spiked to Mach twenty, vanishing from the lock of the US military satellites.

"What the hell! The target disappeared!" the pilot said in shock.

"Report! The missile missed the target!"

"Target lost! Repeat, target lost! Suspected of having stealth capabilities!"

Inside the US military base, the commander's gaze froze for a moment. "What? Impossible! That's completely impossible. Keep searching the entire area, you must find the other party for me!"

The command room instantly descended into chaos.

It was foreseeable that for some time to come, the entire Department of Defense would be suspicious and panic-stricken.