At the pinnacle of noon, on the desert's peak, one armor approaches from the west, steel ascending like an immortal. The pinnacle battle of modern technology begins, led by Tony Stark and Ivan Vanko.
New Jersey
Since it was a formal duel, Tony stubbornly refused to let others help. He had JARVIS scan the nearby network, and after confirming no one was around, they chose this desolate location. This was a desert—a place where they could fight without restraint.
It was Ivan who suggested finding a place with no people, which surprised Tony. After all, in his impression, Ivan was basically synonymous with villain. If Tony was a superhero, then Ivan could be said to be the first supervillain.
Wearing a Mark series armor, Tony arrived at the desert and landed in a superhero pose. Ivan was already there, having removed his armor, lying on a desert stone enjoying a sunbath. The desert sun was perfect for giving his skin a bronze color to impress the female barista at the coffee shop he'd bought.
Seeing Ivan remove his armor, Tony also exited his suit.
"Long time no see, Stark." Ivan had a semi-permanent toothpick in his mouth as he spoke. "Since you almost got me killed."
"That was your own doing, Ivan," Tony said dismissively. "You're the one who modified the Iron Soldiers."
"Your change has given me a different perspective." Tony glanced around. "You didn't bury some bombs to blow me up, did you?"
After arriving, he'd had JARVIS scan for any ambush explosives. Even after getting the all-clear, he still didn't quite believe it.
Hearing Tony's sarcasm, Ivan snorted and stood up, stretching lazily.
"Do you know what I learned in these years?" Ivan said. "Might makes right."
"I admit that before, when I saw that playboy weakling face, I wanted to sign my name on it with my fist."
"It was you, Stark, who betrayed the Vanko family, got my father exiled as a spy, and then subjected to scorn under treason charges."
His voice contained suppressed anger. Ivan took a deep breath and continued, "But John taught me a principle: Vanko is no worse than Stark. Rather than destroy you, this pitiful creature, I'd rather have you watch with your own eyes as everything Stark gets trampled under my feet."
Tony applauded sarcastically. "Wonderful speech. You must have watched a lot of motivational videos during this time."
Tony's attitude always reminded people of a certain arrogant acquaintance. Obviously, after carefully preparing a long speech, receiving such a perfunctory and condescending response was most likely to ignite someone's anger.
Ivan grinned maliciously, spread his arms, and the Warrior III covered his entire body.
Activate. Attack!
Tony reacted quickly. The moment the Warrior launched its jet propulsion, he also completed his armor assembly. With arms crossed in front, he was punched away.
"I take that back," Tony said, flying out and adjusting his form in the air. Seeing the Warrior pull out two electric whips, he added, "You haven't changed at all, Whiplash."
The Warrior leaped up, wrapping Tony with the whips. The powerful propulsion system activated, making the Warrior spin in the air like a hammer thrower, slamming Tony hard into the ground.
The ground raised a cloud of dust as the Warrior's shoulder armor opened, firing missiles at the crater. Many flares shot from the ground, intercepting each missile.
An energy beam hit Ivan. Tony flew up, tilting his head seriously. "Then let's go, Whiplash."
Both raised their hands simultaneously, energy beams striking each other. Under increased power, energy gathered in the air, gradually expanding. Finally, a massive explosion left quite a tremor in the New Jersey desert.
Meanwhile, at Silver Hand Manor
John was using tea leaf divination—one of the third-year courses at Hogwarts, though their teacher wasn't very reliable.
Martha was still bleeding. As long as it was her own blood, no matter how much time passed, she could control it. A drop of blood could be kept from drying for a week.
Compared to Martha, who was tirelessly developing her abilities, John tried to learn something through divination.
Martha wanted to say it had no scientific basis, but she silently looked at Tom trapped in a blood cage at her feet and swallowed her words.
Tom had inexhaustible energy. Basil, apart from going out to beat up birds, usually perched on the owl stand with an air of looking down on everyone. This disdain equally included Martha.
Tea leaf divination didn't give John clear answers.
"Some things that will happen, will inevitably happen," he muttered to himself. This was the information divination brought him.
Releasing the teacup, he let it leave on its own. Basil brought a letter, and John smoothed some foreign feathers from the owl's plumage.
Taking the letter, it was a notice about the closure of an orphanage.
"Orphanage?"
John briefly searched his memory for matters concerning orphanages. He remembered—in London's outskirts, he owned an orphanage. Built about ten years ago, it was used to house orphans created by illegal magical experiments.
But he didn't expect someone to notify him about overdue payments and shutdown. John stared at this eviction notice. He remembered that the orphanage, including the land, was his property. Where did the overdue fees come from?
"I need to go out for a bit."
Patting the reluctant Basil's small head, John left the manor. Waving his wand, he Apparated away.
Outside, Martha, having successfully escaped Tom's "pursuit," ran inside. She saw a white owl giving her a disdainful, scornful glance. That look hurt Martha as much as being bitten by Tom.
Wait, there was that feeling—the feeling of being bitten.
Martha gasped and looked down. Tom had escaped and run over, biting her leg. Of course, it wasn't using force, or the leg would have been broken. Martha let out a miserable cry.
Silver Hand Angel Orphanage
Also known as Silver Hand Angel Special School, this place was quite large, with dormitories, classrooms, indoor and outdoor sports facilities, and a three-story library. Many children here had grown up and could work outside. Some younger ones continued staying here.
John's figure appeared at the entrance. He looked at the Silver Hand Angel Orphanage sign, then at the tightly locked main gate. He could go around directly, but he'd better follow normal procedures.
"Alohomora!"
The lock opened. Well, normal procedure for wizards.
John walked inside. "I remember Dad had someone manage this place."
He frowned—this didn't look like a managed place. After John entered, no one even noticed.
In the wooden-floored foyer, he looked up at the camera obscured by plants and continued inside. The corridor wasn't very dirty, but there was some graffiti on the walls, with names written.
"Edward George, Smedley Taylor, Bertram Audis."
From the graffiti's height, the artists were probably five or six-year-old children.
Walking through the corridor, he entered a classroom with a sealed fireplace. John noticed the fireplace bricks were somewhat loose.
Continuing forward, in the music room, the piano cover had a thick layer of dust. The blackboard still had the sheet music for "Für Elise."
John looked around and decided to check the dormitories. The dormitories were connected to the classrooms—just walk through a corridor to reach them.
The dormitory building had signs of life. John saw a pizza box with two uneaten slices. Well, pineapple pizza. Nothing else to say—John could be certain this student wasn't Italian.
The dormitories used double rooms, actually better than many struggling people in society. After passing a dozen empty rooms, John met the first person in the orphanage.
Actually, he couldn't be sure it was a person.
John looked at the girl whose feet were off the ground, whose intelligence probably hadn't reached high ground. Wearing a white nightgown, the girl was hanging in the middle of the corridor with a rope.
As if to match this horrifying atmosphere, nearby lights flickered.
John stroked his chin, showing no intention of rescue.
Suddenly, the girl who had stopped struggling opened her eyes wide. Those eyes met John's directly. A large amount of blood poured from the door at the end. Then, a sharp scream rang out.
Light bulbs exploded.