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Chapter 181: Megatron (1)
October 19, 2022 Author: Great Demon Spirit
After finding himself dumped in South America, Tony was exceptionally resourceful. He sourced materials locally, cobbled together a fleet of vehicles, and somehow managed to build an airplane.
All this time, Tony had never neglected learning various kinds of knowledge, especially mechanical structures. With the Allspark in hand, fabrication and such were trivial matters; it was just a bit of brainpower, nothing to worry about.
"I'm starting to regret this. I should have built Megatron sooner..." Tony muttered, weaving through crowds of South Americans. Whenever he spotted something he liked, he would just animate it on the spot and then take the opportunity to make off with it.
Building Megatron wasn't a particularly difficult task, but Tony had held off for a long time. For one, he didn't need him; Optimus Prime and the other Autobots were enough. Plus, the United States was extremely sensitive to flying objects in its airspace. Creating a flying vehicle would only add to his troubles if he got caught every time he took off.
Moreover, Tony once harbored a deep distrust of the Authorities. Who was to say that while flying around, he wouldn't accidentally stray into a sparsely populated area only to have a nuclear bomb launched at him?
But he wasn't worried anymore. He now had enough confidence to face a nuclear bomb. In fact, he had been overcomplicating things.
He was a shareholder in several major financial conglomerates. If The Government dared to do something like that, it would be tantamount to overturning the very capitalist game they had established. That would be a major incident, triggering backlash from many people. This was without even considering the enormous international waves that unilaterally using a nuclear bomb would create. After all, the mushroom cloud from a nuclear explosion is hard to hide. Anyone who isn't an idiot knows what a giant mushroom cloud means.
And more crucially, Tony already had a preliminary method for dealing with nuclear bombs. It was simple and crude: when the nuclear bomb came flying over, he could just send a few flying Decepticons to intercept it, either by crashing head-on to detonate it or by grabbing it and changing its course.
The more time passed, the more advantageous it was for Tony. His growth rate was visible to the naked eye, whereas The Government's was not, technology was not, and weapons of mass destruction were not.
No matter who wanted to kill him, unless they could completely overwhelm him in terms of combat power, worldly methods were becoming less and less of a threat.
Otherwise, a terrorist leader like Magneto, who was always stirring up trouble, would have been taken out long ago. He repeatedly caused problems for The Government, and the worst part was that even when they captured him, they didn't dare to kill him. When President Kennedy was assassinated last century, they arrested Magneto. Otherwise, there was no explaining how a damn bullet made a sharp turn in mid-air, headed straight for the president's high-speed motorcade, and precisely blew off his skull.
If they tried to kill Magneto, Professor X wouldn't allow it. And Magneto himself would flip over a continent in minutes just to show you he could.
After cobbling together an airplane, Tony flew directly to North America. To be safe, he also brought along a bunch of small flying drones. Whether it was a missile or some other damn thing, they were all trivial.
It was a ferocious-looking aircraft. Its frame was somewhat similar to the Military's F-22 but also different, appearing even more menacing and terrifying. It had rows of frightening, outward-protruding barbs, as well as extra wings of unknown function that were positioned vertically at the rear of the main fuselage, forming a ninety-degree angle with the thrusters.
The only problem was its shabby paint job, or rather, the lack of one. This made the otherwise imposing and domineering fuselage look a bit dilapidated, adding a sense of history to it.
Along the way, the plane roared, easily breaking the sound barrier. Its speed tore through the clouds in the sky, ripping countless layers of white clouds in two with its powerful shockwave. Looking up from the ground, it was as if the entire sky had been split apart. At the tip of the tear, a black dot was rending the sky at lightning speed. The endless horizon looked like two waves being parted, and the blade parting them was the plane Tony was piloting.
Upon entering North America, it was immediately detected by the Military's monitoring systems. Several fighter jets scrambled, fully loaded with missiles, and menacingly swooped towards the unidentified aircraft.
"Unidentified aircraft, state your identity immediately, or we will shoot you down!"
"This is Military Major Tony, identification number XXXXXXXX, en route to New York," Tony replied, but he didn't slow down in the slightest. On the contrary, he doubled down, brazenly charging towards the other fighter jets.
Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Rhodey, also a good friend of Tony Stark, had a pained expression when he heard the person's identity.
"Tony, where the hell have you been these past few hours? You started a battle in the middle of a New York street and then just vanished. A lot of people are even saying you were abducted by an Alien." Rhodey struggled to keep his mouth from twitching as he initiated a video call with Tony, his expression grim.
The past few hours had been tumultuous. Many organizations, big and small, had been mobilized. Whether their intentions were good or ill, it was that bastard Tony who had stirred the pot. Like a depth charge, he had forced a whole bunch of onlookers who usually kept a low profile out into the open.
"Nowhere special," Tony answered calmly, glancing at the fighter jets flying in close formation with his plane. "Just took a trip to a South American rainforest. Hunted a few monkeys for a barbecue."
Rhodey really wanted to say that hunting wild animals, especially endangered ones, was a serious crime, but he decided against it.
"Tony, your list of offenses is already long enough to land you in a Military Tribunal, but the new General in charge of the Super-Soldier Program quashed it. Now, tell me honestly, who was that guy you were fighting?" Rhodey's expression was grave. Over at Headquarters, many people were listening intently.
Anyone would be curious. It was just too strange. A guy in a retro-looking robe casually waved his hand and easily created a crystal barrier to block Tony's barrage of firepower. He waved his hand again, and Tony simply vanished.
Was that guy, who looked like he was performing some shamanistic ritual, really a legendary Sorcerer?
Over the past few hours, many old professors with achievements in ancient history had been gathered and were frantically collecting historical data, not missing even the smallest piece of information. But no matter how much they researched, it was useless. Trying to distinguish between a Sorcerer and a Mutant based on written records was simply impossible.
Rhodey's question wasn't just about identifying the man. More importantly, if something like a Sorcerer really existed, then an even more exciting possibility emerged—magic could be learned, and Sorcerers could be mass-produced!
No matter how difficult it was to learn, no matter how high the aptitude requirements were, when faced with a population numbering in the hundreds of millions, was that even a damn problem?!
Tony's response was utter bullshit: "His identity? The guy's just a stage magician. It's all an illusion."
The faces of many people immediately darkened. This blatant mockery made them feel a mix of shame and anger.
(end of chapter)
October 19, 2022 Author: Great Demon Spirit
After finding himself dumped in South America, Tony was exceptionally resourceful. He sourced materials locally, cobbled together a fleet of vehicles, and somehow managed to build an airplane.
All this time, Tony had never neglected learning various kinds of knowledge, especially mechanical structures. With the Allspark in hand, fabrication and such were trivial matters; it was just a bit of brainpower, nothing to worry about.
"I'm starting to regret this. I should have built Megatron sooner..." Tony muttered, weaving through crowds of South Americans. Whenever he spotted something he liked, he would just animate it on the spot and then take the opportunity to make off with it.
Building Megatron wasn't a particularly difficult task, but Tony had held off for a long time. For one, he didn't need him; Optimus Prime and the other Autobots were enough. Plus, the United States was extremely sensitive to flying objects in its airspace. Creating a flying vehicle would only add to his troubles if he got caught every time he took off.
Moreover, Tony once harbored a deep distrust of the Authorities. Who was to say that while flying around, he wouldn't accidentally stray into a sparsely populated area only to have a nuclear bomb launched at him?
But he wasn't worried anymore. He now had enough confidence to face a nuclear bomb. In fact, he had been overcomplicating things.
He was a shareholder in several major financial conglomerates. If The Government dared to do something like that, it would be tantamount to overturning the very capitalist game they had established. That would be a major incident, triggering backlash from many people. This was without even considering the enormous international waves that unilaterally using a nuclear bomb would create. After all, the mushroom cloud from a nuclear explosion is hard to hide. Anyone who isn't an idiot knows what a giant mushroom cloud means.
And more crucially, Tony already had a preliminary method for dealing with nuclear bombs. It was simple and crude: when the nuclear bomb came flying over, he could just send a few flying Decepticons to intercept it, either by crashing head-on to detonate it or by grabbing it and changing its course.
The more time passed, the more advantageous it was for Tony. His growth rate was visible to the naked eye, whereas The Government's was not, technology was not, and weapons of mass destruction were not.
No matter who wanted to kill him, unless they could completely overwhelm him in terms of combat power, worldly methods were becoming less and less of a threat.
Otherwise, a terrorist leader like Magneto, who was always stirring up trouble, would have been taken out long ago. He repeatedly caused problems for The Government, and the worst part was that even when they captured him, they didn't dare to kill him. When President Kennedy was assassinated last century, they arrested Magneto. Otherwise, there was no explaining how a damn bullet made a sharp turn in mid-air, headed straight for the president's high-speed motorcade, and precisely blew off his skull.
If they tried to kill Magneto, Professor X wouldn't allow it. And Magneto himself would flip over a continent in minutes just to show you he could.
After cobbling together an airplane, Tony flew directly to North America. To be safe, he also brought along a bunch of small flying drones. Whether it was a missile or some other damn thing, they were all trivial.
It was a ferocious-looking aircraft. Its frame was somewhat similar to the Military's F-22 but also different, appearing even more menacing and terrifying. It had rows of frightening, outward-protruding barbs, as well as extra wings of unknown function that were positioned vertically at the rear of the main fuselage, forming a ninety-degree angle with the thrusters.
The only problem was its shabby paint job, or rather, the lack of one. This made the otherwise imposing and domineering fuselage look a bit dilapidated, adding a sense of history to it.
Along the way, the plane roared, easily breaking the sound barrier. Its speed tore through the clouds in the sky, ripping countless layers of white clouds in two with its powerful shockwave. Looking up from the ground, it was as if the entire sky had been split apart. At the tip of the tear, a black dot was rending the sky at lightning speed. The endless horizon looked like two waves being parted, and the blade parting them was the plane Tony was piloting.
Upon entering North America, it was immediately detected by the Military's monitoring systems. Several fighter jets scrambled, fully loaded with missiles, and menacingly swooped towards the unidentified aircraft.
"Unidentified aircraft, state your identity immediately, or we will shoot you down!"
"This is Military Major Tony, identification number XXXXXXXX, en route to New York," Tony replied, but he didn't slow down in the slightest. On the contrary, he doubled down, brazenly charging towards the other fighter jets.
Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Rhodey, also a good friend of Tony Stark, had a pained expression when he heard the person's identity.
"Tony, where the hell have you been these past few hours? You started a battle in the middle of a New York street and then just vanished. A lot of people are even saying you were abducted by an Alien." Rhodey struggled to keep his mouth from twitching as he initiated a video call with Tony, his expression grim.
The past few hours had been tumultuous. Many organizations, big and small, had been mobilized. Whether their intentions were good or ill, it was that bastard Tony who had stirred the pot. Like a depth charge, he had forced a whole bunch of onlookers who usually kept a low profile out into the open.
"Nowhere special," Tony answered calmly, glancing at the fighter jets flying in close formation with his plane. "Just took a trip to a South American rainforest. Hunted a few monkeys for a barbecue."
Rhodey really wanted to say that hunting wild animals, especially endangered ones, was a serious crime, but he decided against it.
"Tony, your list of offenses is already long enough to land you in a Military Tribunal, but the new General in charge of the Super-Soldier Program quashed it. Now, tell me honestly, who was that guy you were fighting?" Rhodey's expression was grave. Over at Headquarters, many people were listening intently.
Anyone would be curious. It was just too strange. A guy in a retro-looking robe casually waved his hand and easily created a crystal barrier to block Tony's barrage of firepower. He waved his hand again, and Tony simply vanished.
Was that guy, who looked like he was performing some shamanistic ritual, really a legendary Sorcerer?
Over the past few hours, many old professors with achievements in ancient history had been gathered and were frantically collecting historical data, not missing even the smallest piece of information. But no matter how much they researched, it was useless. Trying to distinguish between a Sorcerer and a Mutant based on written records was simply impossible.
Rhodey's question wasn't just about identifying the man. More importantly, if something like a Sorcerer really existed, then an even more exciting possibility emerged—magic could be learned, and Sorcerers could be mass-produced!
No matter how difficult it was to learn, no matter how high the aptitude requirements were, when faced with a population numbering in the hundreds of millions, was that even a damn problem?!
Tony's response was utter bullshit: "His identity? The guy's just a stage magician. It's all an illusion."
The faces of many people immediately darkened. This blatant mockery made them feel a mix of shame and anger.
(end of chapter)
