As soon as the elevator doors opened, Deathstroke had already scanned every zombie in the lobby. None had been transformed from Superhumans; they were all ordinary people.
Well, A.R.M.O.R.'s superpowered people were only so-so. Their strongest were merely block-level, and the difference between them and ordinary citizens was probably that they had names and codenames.
This underground facility had not yet been fully completed and was still undergoing its final renovations. The huge illuminated sign bearing A.R.M.O.R.'s initials nearby had only half its letters installed, and it was now splattered with blood.
Fortunately, there was still power, and the ventilation system was functioning normally. Otherwise, with so many rotting corpses crammed into underground rooms, the smell would have been truly exquisite.
All of Tony's skills lay in his armor. Though he had hired coaches and learned a little hand-to-hand combat, it could basically be ignored.
Still, firearms posed no problem against zombies. A few Palm Cannon blasts and Micro-missiles from his shoulders reduced everything before them to a field of bloody scraps.
"Ugh, I won't be eating meat pies for a while. I don't even want Italian dumplings anymore." Tony smugly flipped up his faceplate and blew on his palm. "So, everyone, did you find any trace of the director and the others?"
There had been a massive horde of zombies as soon as the elevator doors opened, so where had Fury and the others gone? There was no sign here of them fighting their way through zombies.
"Why do you think about food the instant you finish killing zombies?! And why do you have to say it out loud after thinking it?! Now I can't look at those foods the same way either!"
The moment Gwenpool opened her little mouth, out came a complaint. She had even put on