"Why are you recording this?"
T'Challa asked in confusion.
"Oh, nothing special," Tony replied casually.
"Just scientific research~~~"
T'Challa didn't suspect a thing. After a brief pause, he swung his leg again, delivering another powerful kick to the suit.
Suddenly, a burst of purple energy erupted, forming a barrier that sent T'Challa flying several meters backward. He crashed through a table before finally coming to a stop.
"Whoa—give me five!!!"
Tony and Shuri burst out laughing, slapping hands hard in excitement. They had finally managed to mess with T'Challa for once.
"Did you get it on video?"
Tony immediately asked.
"Relax—every single second was recorded~~"
Shuri grinned wickedly and hurriedly uploaded the footage to the cloud.
"You two delete that video immediately!"
T'Challa struggled to his feet, clutching his lower back.
"I order you as the King of Wakanda!"
"Hahaha~~~ It's already saved. Can't delete it anymore~~~"
Shuri laughed, and she and Tony burst into laughter again.
---
Lucas had spent the day wandering around and picked up a few souvenirs, planning to bring them back for the three "aunties" at home. If they found out he'd been to Wakanda without gifts, he'd definitely suffer for it.
He bought each of them a bracelet full of African flair—silver bands engraved with local tribal patterns, distinctive and elegant.
By the time he returned to his lodging, night had fallen. Lucas was starving and decided to call Tony to grab dinner together.
Coincidentally, Tony called him first.
"Hey—Tony, where are you?"
Lucas answered weakly.
"I'm waiting to eat with you."
"I'm at the palace," Tony said.
"Someone will come pick you up shortly. T'Challa has invited us to dinner—there's something he wants to discuss."
No sooner had Tony finished speaking than a member of the Dora Milaje arrived outside the house.
"Mr. Norman, His Majesty invites you to dine with him."
"Oh—coming right now!"
Lucas shot out the door in a flash. When it came to food, hesitating for even one second was disrespectful.
---
At the palace dining hall, T'Challa's family was already waiting.
"Lucas, come on—just waiting for you,"
T'Challa waved him over.
The palace banquet was lavish beyond words, making Lucas practically drool.
After everyone had eaten their fill, the former king and queen excused themselves. After all, the rest were young people—it wasn't their place to stay.
The remaining group sat together, sipping Wakandan specialty tea.
"We've confirmed Ulysses Klaue's location,"
T'Challa said.
"We're preparing to go to the Peninsula to capture him."
"What do you want us to do?"
Lucas asked, puzzled.
"Go with you?"
To be honest, neither Lucas nor Tony had any real grudge against Klaue. They only wanted to buy vibranium from him. If T'Challa had asked them to come along, Lucas would've been inclined to refuse.
But to his surprise, T'Challa didn't ask them to go.
"I'd like the two of you to remain in Wakanda while I deal with Klaue."
Lucas and Tony were both taken aback. They'd expected to help—but not like this.
"Stay in Wakanda?"
Lucas asked.
"How can we help you here?"
"You won't need to do anything,"
T'Challa replied calmly.
"Just assist if Wakanda faces a crisis."
In truth, keeping Lucas and Tony in Wakanda was the safest and most reliable choice. If they weren't associated with Klaue, they could help defend Wakanda if anything went wrong. And if they were connected—keeping them close made surveillance easier.
T'Challa was fairly certain they weren't Klaue's allies, but caution was necessary.
Both Lucas and Tony agreed.
Tony still had countless things to discuss with Shuri—especially the development of the next generation of Iron Man armor. He had essentially mastered nanotech suits but still lacked real-world testing. Staying in Wakanda suited him perfectly.
As for Lucas, he didn't mind at all. He had already anchored Wakanda's coordinates and could travel freely between Wakanda and New York via his Chocobo space ability, so there was no rush to return.
---
T'Challa departed for the Peninsula with Okoye and Nakia aboard a Wakandan aircraft.
At night, their vehicle slowly came to a stop on a street resembling a night market. Food stalls lined both sides, selling snacks unique to the region.
The car doors opened, and the three stepped out.
Okoye and Nakia wore elegant evening gowns, while T'Challa was dressed in a tailored black suit. They looked as though they were heading to a high-class gala.
"This damned wig—it's driving my scalp crazy,"
Okoye muttered.
"I swear I'm burning it later."
She'd put it on to avoid standing out—bald women were too conspicuous in a crowd.
"I think it suits you,"
Nakia teased.
"You should shake it a little more."
"I'd rather you just kill me,"
Okoye replied darkly.
The wig was stuffy, uncomfortable, and the adhesive made her head itch nonstop.
The three stopped at a fish stall.
"Sophia~ How have you been lately?"
Nakia greeted a middle-aged local woman.
This woman wasn't just a fish vendor—she was the head of security for an underground nightclub. Intelligence indicated that Klaue would be conducting his transaction there.
As a Wakandan intelligence operative, Nakia was much like Natasha from S.H.I.E.L.D.—someone who could blend in anywhere and had connections everywhere.
"And who are these two?"
Sophia asked, eyeing T'Challa and Okoye.
"This one's a wealthy African tycoon,"
Nakia whispered in Sophia's ear.
"Extremely rich. Just look at what he's wearing~"
Sophia examined T'Challa's suit carefully. The fabric, detailing, and subtle patterns were unlike anything on the market—understated yet extravagantly luxurious. The kind even most wealthy elites couldn't afford.
She nodded to the man behind her. He lifted the curtain behind the fish stall, revealing a heavy iron door.
After passing through multiple layers of security, the three finally reached the last door.
When it opened, pounding, energetic music burst out, flooding T'Challa's ears.
Nakia led T'Challa and Okoye through the dance floor with ease, stopping in front of another door. Two guards immediately blocked their way.
"This area is restricted."
Nakia took out a card resembling an invitation. It was completely blank.
The guard accepted it calmly, scanned it under ultraviolet light, and hidden text and an anti-counterfeiting emblem appeared.
"Please proceed."
He returned the card and opened the door, allowing the three of them inside.
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