The next day, the finance news, usually weak as fuck, exploded out of nowhere, cutting through the chaos of Joker fanatics like a hot knife.
"Stark Industries Earthquake! Tony Stark Returns as CEO!"
The headline hit like a bomb, dominating every major outlet.
People were sick of the endless Joker bullshit. Time for a new flavor.
Tony's comeback was perfectly timed, sparking a media frenzy. Outlets dug deep.
Tony Stark was no stranger to the press. Hell, he single-handedly kept half of them in business.
By afternoon, reporters had unearthed juicy backstage gossip.
For six months, Stark Industries' sales had been tanking. No new weapons, and the military was eyeing other partners.
Obadiah's new team failed to deliver on his big talk of taking Stark to new heights. Instead, they crashed hard.
With the company fucked from all sides, the board ditching Obadiah for Tony made sense.
The real scoop was Tony and Obadiah's relationship.
Insider sources said Tony's return came with Obadiah's full resignation. Their beef was clearly beyond fixing.
Before the gossip could even settle, Tony and Rhodes held a press conference, announcing Stark Industries' deep collaboration with the military to test the Jericho missile at an Afghanistan airbase.
The two stories screamed one thing: Tony fucking Stark was back.
…
Three days later, Afghanistan airbase.
To make nice with Tony, the military rolled out the red carpet. The local top commander personally greeted him at the tarmac as Tony's private jet touched down.
The cabin door opened. Tony, sharp in a suit and shades, strolled down the steps.
"General, good to see you!" Tony said, shaking hands with the brass, cool as ice.
The general nodded. "Mr. Stark, I'm looking forward to your weapon's demo."
Tony grinned. "Won't let you down."
After some pleasantries, they hopped into military humvees, speeding to the missile launch site. The Jericho missile was prepped days ago.
…
At the launch site, under a blazing sun, Tony stood before the weapon's rig, addressing the military's mid- and high-ranking officers.
"Being respected versus being feared—which is better?"
"Why not both?"
"Let me introduce Stark Industries' flagship: the Jericho missile!"
"They say the best weapon doesn't need to be fired. I call bullshit. The best weapon only needs to be fired *once*."
"My father lived by that. America lives by that. It still fucking holds."
"Fire this missile once, for any damn reason, and I guarantee the bad guys will hide in their caves."
Speech done, Tony signaled the soldiers to test-fire.
They locked onto a target 20 kilometers out and hit the button.
*Boom!*
The Jericho missile, packed with 30 high-explosive warheads, roared into the sky, spewing flames.
At its peak, it released 30 submunitions, each locking onto its target with precision.
*Boom! Boom! Boom!*
Explosions rocked the ground, shaking the earth. Thirty massive craters appeared at the mountain's base, kicking up dirt clouds dozens of meters high.
Tony spread his arms, smirking. "For your consideration: the Jericho missile!"
The shockwave hit, blowing off the officers' hats.
After a beat of silence, the general nodded. "Impressive. Very impressive."
Tony walked over, grinning. "Thanks. Here's to a happy partnership."
The test was a flawless success.
Tony and the top brass prepared to leave, while mid- and low-level officers stayed to test the remaining two missiles for more data.
"Tony!" Rhodes slapped his shoulder, hyped. "You fucking nailed it. The general's raving about your weapon. Jericho's gonna land a massive order."
Tony wasn't surprised. He brushed it off, grabbing a case to head out.
"Hey, Tony! Our ride's back there," Rhodes called.
Tony waved him off. "I don't vibe with those big shots. Too stiff, no fucking humor."
Rhodes jogged up, blocking him. "You just took back the company. You've got a long road ahead. The general's got pull—schmooze while he's impressed."
His voice dropped. "This guy's got real power. He can sway the Defense Department and your business."
Tony paused, then relented. "Fine."
"Let's go. Car's back there," Rhodes said, leading him to the brass's convoy. He nodded at Tony's case. "What's that?"
Tony smirked. "My baby."
Rhodes knew not to push.
Ten minutes after the lead vehicles left, Tony and the generals' convoy rolled out.
But soon after, a local commander slipped into a corner, pulled out a phone, and made a call.
"Target's moving. ETA 15 minutes. Not the lead convoy—don't fuck it up."
…
In the humvee, Tony and the general sat in the back, Rhodes up front.
As expected, chatting with the big shot was pure torture.
The general droned on, oblivious to how awkward it was. Tony forced smiles, nodding along.
*God, this is fucking painful.*
Thankfully, Rhodes jumped in from the front, tossing out some tabloid gossip guys love, making the ride less miserable.
*Boom!*
Suddenly, the lead humvee exploded, flipping over in flames.
The awkward chat died. Tony and the general sat there, dumbfounded.
"Anti-tank mine!"
"Ambush!"
"Protect the general!"
This was a warzone—shit like this happened.
The soldiers snapped into action, leaping from vehicles to find cover.
*Rat-tat-tat!*
Heavy gunfire erupted, mowing down several soldiers, their bodies riddled with bullets, collapsing in pools of blood.
.
.
.
.
You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
500 power stones.
Top 50. All time.