Coney Island, New York. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

If anyone were looking down from the sky at this moment, they would be shocked by the spectacle - the endless sea of people flooded the entire street in front of the white cube building, and the atmosphere was as hot as if the air had been ignited, reminiscent of fanatic fans blocking the upcoming stars in front of the hotel, except that the target of the blockade today was not a rock star, but the famous Tony Stark...... Well, maybe the difference isn't huge either.

In the past, Tony Stark would have chosen any one of his garage luxury cars and made a grand appearance in front of people's cheers and flashing cameras, but since last year, he hasn't been the same.

He's even more arrogant now.

"Heavenly!"

I don't know who took the lead and shouted, and all eyes and cameras turned to the blue sky. A black dot appeared above the blue sky, rapidly magnifying in everyone's field of vision, dragging a brilliant tail flame and playing a stunt whirl. Iron Man stepped on the flames, flexibly doing difficult movements such as somersaults and swooping down, the fanatical crowd consciously gave way to an open space, the steel body fell like a rocket, and a circle of transparent yellow dust burst out from under the jet boots.

The crowd cheered and hugged Iron Man's figure, and he waved his hand to the camera like a big star, and then the back of the armor split apart, and Tony Stark, dressed in a suit, got out of the armor, and the armor immediately closed and locked in place in an upright position, like a soldier standing guard.

Tony entered the building and was led straight to the top floor. The camera and photographer were ready, and a middle-aged man in a shirt walked up with a kind smile and shook Tony's hand.

"John Pillinger, Mr. Stark." He introduced himself.

Tony nodded, "Hello, Mr. Piling, I love the documentary you made. ”

"Thank you, you're very nice."

After shaking hands, Tony raised his wrist and glanced at his watch, "Sorry, I'm short on time, Mr. Pillinger, so we might as well hurry up and get started...... Can you say the title of the film again? ”

"The Ghost of the Twentieth Century, Mr. Stark."

"Okay." Pillinger gestured to the photographer, "Let's shoot then...... Let's start with the simple questions, Mr. Stark. Is it fair to define yourself as an arms dealer? ”

"I don't think so." Tony thought for a moment and added, "Well, I don't deny it either. ”

"But you're designing to sell weapons."

"I did design a lot of weapons for the U.S. military."

"I remember your genius invention, and the masses remember...... Each of your 'Lotus Bombs' can emit hundreds of smart miniature bombs, right? ”

"Yes, that's my early work, designed to blow up airfields and convoys."

"Then maybe you'll be interested in these photos."

Pillinger leaned forward, pulling out a dozen photos from the folder and pushing them down the table to Tony. Tony picked up the picture and glanced at it, frowning.

It was a photograph from a war correspondent, vividly depicting the miserable conditions of innocent people under the smoke of war, and the interweaving of flames and blood constituted a vivid picture, which was vividly displayed in front of them through the photographer's hand, and through the photo, it seemed that they could faintly smell the choking smell of gunsmoke.

"Each bomblet has the power of three explosives, and the most recent batch of bombs dropped may have been in the thousands, 80 percent of which were scattered throughout the war zone and have not been recovered, at least half of which have not been detonated on the spot." "Their timers were broken in war, discarded everywhere on the battlefield, and even children could pick them up, and you know what that could happen." ”

Tony frowned and thought for a moment, then tossed the picture on the table.

"I've stopped making weapons for a long time." Tony said, "What exactly are you trying to say?" Mr. Pillinger? ”

"Then I'll just say hello." Pillinger said, pausing, deliberately accentuating, "How many weapons are there...... Inspired you to develop Iron Man? ”

He stared into Tony's eyes as if to see through his soul.

Austin, Texas.

"Yes, our plans have been leaked and we have lost a sample...... I'm also sorry, sir, that we're working on it now, but we have to submit you to General Fisher...... No, Killian he's busy right now. ”

The sound of a woman talking on the phone came from outside the wall, and Aldridge Killian was holding a cigarette in his mouth, his hands clasped around his chest, his glazed gaze staring at the computer screen through the smoke in front of him.

A document opened on the computer screen, the cursor still flashing at the last word, and it looked like he had just finished typing.

"They knew that the Desperate Virus had leaked, that management was in chaos, and that everyone was helpless." The document reads, "Maya Hansen has just lost her temper again, and she hasn't been happy in the past few days. It was only a matter of time before the thieves were caught, but nothing could change what had already happened. This was our mistake and it had to be corrected, and I had to do it. ”

Tsai read the document several more times until the cigarette burned out, and Killian crushed it in the ashtray and pressed the print button on the keyboard. The printer "buzzed" and spit out the print in a moment.

Killian blankly pulled out the paper and scanned it, then threw it on the table. Then he opened the drawer on one side, took out a jet-black pistol, opened the safety with a "click", and pointed his backhand at the bridge of his nose.

At the last moment, he showed a strange smile.

"Bang!"

Loud gunfire rang out through the entire floor.

The crisp sound of high heels colliding with the floor quickly approached, and the dark-haired woman in a white coat pushed open the door and walked quickly into the room. She's Maya Hansen, the person in charge here, and the developer of the Desperate Virus in Iron Man 3.

Aldridge Killian, the final boss of Iron Man 3, was lying on his desk with a pistol in his hand, a hole in the back of his head, and a pool of blood running down his desk to the floor.

Maya Hansen covered her mouth, but didn't scream. She picked up the paper on the side of the printer and skimmed through it, her pupils constricting in surprise.

More footsteps could be heard outside.

"Dr. Hansen? We heard gunshots, what's going on over there? ”

Maya walked out of Killian's office and raised the papers in her hand.

"Killian killed himself, but he confessed that he stole the Desperate Virus." Maya said with a gloomy face, "The virus is not in his hands now, he gave it to someone else...... Hopefully it won't get as bad as I thought. ”

(Thank you again for your recommendations and tips!) ）