While they waited for Rhodey to arrive with the rescue team, the temperature in the desert began to rise.
The three of them sat on a sand dune.
Tony rubbed his rumbling stomach and swallowed.
"When I get back to New York, I'm going to eat two cheeseburgers right away. Now that's a taste of heaven."
Beside him, Luca immediately frowned, looking as though he couldn't disagree more.
"Cheeseburgers? That's junk food for kids, okay? Anyone who really knows how to enjoy life would pick a crispy, juicy chicken burger with a little special hot sauce. Now that's a treat for your taste buds."
Tony looked at Luca as if he were an alien and loudly objected.
"Chicken burger? Are you crazy? Beef is the soul of a burger! Something as dry as chicken doesn't deserve to be stuck between two buns! Did those serums destroy your sense of taste?"
"You're the crazy one! A fried chicken fillet is crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, and bursting with juice when you bite into it. Unlike your beef patty, which is like chewing on a shoe sole!" Luca refused to back down and argued loudly.
"Beef is a prime example of a premium ingredient! Only you would eat fried chicken every day!"
"Bullshit! That's because you don't understand the art of spices at all! I bet that once we're back in New York, any random person on the street would say chicken burgers taste a hundred times better than cheeseburgers!"
The two argued red-faced over the pointless question, neither willing to give in.
Yinsen couldn't help laughing out loud.
These were the Stark brothers, all right. Even while waiting to die in the desert, they had to argue over who was right.
Before long.
The roar of helicopter rotors came from the distant sky.
Two search-and-rescue helicopters bearing U.S. military insignia flew in fast, kicking up clouds of yellow sand as they landed in front of them.
The cabin doors opened.
Colonel Rhodes, dressed in military uniform, rushed out with his eyes red.
He spotted Tony and Luca sitting on the sand at once. Without a word, he rushed over and pulled Tony into a tight hug.
"Thank goodness... I knew you wouldn't die that easily." Rhodey patted Tony on the back, his voice a little choked.
But the scene looked a little comical.
Tony wore a filthy tank top, his face covered in stubble and his body skin and bones.
Anyone who didn't know better might have taken him for a refugee who had wandered the desert for six months.
Luca, standing beside them, had a muscular build and a rosy complexion thanks to the changes wrought by the serum.
Even the holes in his lab coat couldn't conceal his bearing.
"Hey! Rhodey. Your search-and-rescue team sure took its time, didn't it? I was almost baked into a mummy out here."
"I thought you might send over some chilled champagne and beautiful women by helicopter, but all I got were two big black hunks of metal."
Rhodey released Tony and looked at the rosy-faced Luca, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Luca, you don't look anything like someone who's been kidnapped for two months. Are you sure you weren't throwing a party out here?"
They laughed, exchanged punches, and briefly caught up.
Tony introduced Yinsen to Rhodey, saying he was the man who had saved his life.
Rhodey immediately thanked Yinsen profusely.
Then they boarded a helicopter and flew toward the U.S. military base in the Middle East.
A few hours later.
Aboard a Stark Family private jet bound for New York.
Tony and Luca sat on a sofa in the cabin.
They had found a place away from their entourage to hold a secret meeting for Stark Family members only.
Tony stared at the clouds outside the window, his gaze growing a little complicated and serious.
"Luca," Tony said slowly, a trace of weariness in his voice.
"I've made up my mind. As soon as the plane lands, I'll hold a press conference and announce that Stark Industries is shutting down its weapons manufacturing division."
Hearing this.
Luca's hand paused as he was pouring red wine.
He looked up at Tony as if he were crazy.
"Shut down the weapons division? What kind of joke is that?"
Luca frowned, completely unable to understand.
Tony decided to tell him his plan.
"We need to flush him out. That mole wants Stark Industries. If I announce that I'm shutting down our most profitable division, the stock will plummet."
"Then the guy hiding in the shadows is bound to panic, and he'll definitely give himself away."
Luca rolled his eyes after hearing him out.
"Tony, did a rock fall on your head in that cave? You want to burn down the whole house just to catch a mouse?"
"There's no need for that at all. With weapons, we can protect ourselves better and root out the mole. Why do you insist on shutting it down?"
Tony sighed.
His real reasons were the terrorists killing people with Stark weapons and the civilians who had died at gunpoint.
"But, Luca, our weapons have killed a lot of people."
At that, Tony gave a self-mocking laugh, his smile full of bitterness.
"Don't you think it's ironic?"
"I always thought we were protecting the world. But in reality, even the weapons those terrorists used against us were made by us!"
"A weapons expert nearly got blown up in the desert by his own weapons. That's the greatest irony of all."
The more Tony spoke, the more worked up he became, sinking into deep self-reproach.
After listening to Tony pour his heart out.
Luca chose not to comfort him.
Instead, he slammed his wineglass down on the table, his face full of frustration at Tony's failure to do better.
"Tony, did you spend so long in that cave you came down with some ridiculous Captain America syndrome?!"
Luca looked Tony in the eye, his tone pragmatic and merciless.
"How did we make our fortune? We're arms dealers!"
"Now you suddenly say you want to lay down the butcher's knife?! Do you think the media and politicians will stop calling you a warmonger if you shut down the weapons division? Don't be naive! Have you forgotten who we are? We're evil capitalists, Tony!"
Luca got up, walked over to Tony, and began to correct this way of thinking.
"If terrorists use our weapons against us, that can only mean one thing: our weapons still aren't powerful enough! They need to be so powerful that anyone who gets their hands on them is afraid!"
Luca waved his arms, his gaze fervent.
"We need to learn one thing from this experience. We have to invent even more powerful weapons! Powerful enough that no enemy can ever hurt us again!"
"Only, our future direction will change. We won't sell to those idiot armies anymore. We'll strengthen ourselves!"
"To deal with our enemies better, we should make weapons that can kill in a single strike! If anyone dares show hostility toward us, we'll send a laser down from the sky and roast him to ash! That's what a Stark should do!"
Tony was dumbfounded by Luca's speech.
But, for some reason.
As he followed Luca's logic, his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
That's right!
Why shut down the weapons division?!
I was never some good guy out to save the world. I've always been a playboy and an egomaniac, so why should I feel guilty?!
They used my weapons against me, so I'll make stronger, more insane weapons and hit them back!
For example, upgrade the armor into Iron Man Armor that can fly through the sky!
Once Tony had thought it through, a weight lifted from his heart, and his guilt and confusion were swept away.
"You're right, Luca. The desert sun really did fry my brain. I was so stupid to feel guilty."
Tony sprang to his feet, a confident, swaggering smile returning to his face.
He patted Luca on the shoulder.
"We'll do it your way. Not only will the weapons division stay open, I'll invest even more money in developing an individual weapons system that only we can control!"
Luca nodded in satisfaction.
This was the Tony Stark he knew.