After hearing Kevin's account, Harley, David, and Christine exchanged glances, their faces turning grim.
If what he said was true—that Stark had three hundred suits of Iron Armor—then their operation would end in total annihilation.
Thank fuck for small mercies!
If Jason and Christine hadn't overheard that woman's conversation, the consequences would've been a goddamn disaster…
Jason's heart pounded with lingering fear. He quickly asked, "What kind of power source drives armor that heavy? Electricity? Nuclear?"
Kevin blinked, then said with a weird look, "Manpower!"
Jason: ???
Jason's jaw dropped. Iron Armor, that high-tech shit, powered by manpower? What's the fucking difference between that and medieval plate armor?
What the hell was Tony Stark playing at?
Kevin explained, "Mr. Stark said powering the armor requires a stable energy source. Right now, no energy source in the world can keep the armor running for long. Even stuffing it with lithium batteries only gives you about half an hour—nowhere near enough for combat."
Jason sighed. "So, the so-called Iron Armor is just a fully enclosed metal box?"
Kevin, not following his train of thought, said confusedly, "Of course it is. What did you think Iron Armor was?"
Hearing Kevin's reply, Jason's racing heart finally settled.
This manpower-driven Iron Armor was a far cry from the sky-soaring, sea-diving Iron Man of his memories. Looks like the world's timeline hadn't shifted too drastically.
Even so, armor that could withstand armor-piercing rounds was still a massive hurdle. If they couldn't figure out a way around it, rushing in blindly would be a one-way ticket to a body bag.
…
The group sat in a circle, heads bowed in silence.
They'd spent ages preparing, only for Stark Industries to pull out a game-changer like the Iron Armor, crushing their plans to dust.
After a long silence, Harley spoke first. "This mission's too fucking dangerous. We should scrap it."
Jason didn't respond right away, turning to David. "Your take?"
David said, "I agree. The government's got its eyes locked on Stark Bank. Going head-to-head with them would be a bloodbath. Why not hit other banks while they're distracted? Might catch them off guard and score big."
Jason nodded. That was a solid idea.
He turned to Christine. "And you?"
"Honestly, I'm with them," She said. "But you're the boss of the Joker Organization. Whether we go through with this, and how, is your call."
All three looked up at Jason.
Jason frowned, thinking for a moment before a faint smile crossed his lips. "I say we keep the plan moving."
He raised a hand to stop Harley from interrupting, then explained, "David's suggestion sparked an idea. Here's the play."
"We split into two teams. First, Christine, you disguise me as Kevin and get me inside Stark Industries Bank HQ. That'll put me close to the vault."
"Meanwhile, you three take the Black Organization and hit three major banks—east, north, and south of L.A. Go all out with the heavy weapons. Make as much fucking noise as possible."
"Once those banks are under attack, Stark and the feds will think we're pulling a diversion, faking an assault on Stark Bank while really targeting weaker ones."
"When they fall for the bait, their forces at Stark Bank will split into four—one stays put, the other three rush to the other banks. That cuts the heat on us."
"After you three pull off your heists, I'll clean out the vault, take down any Iron Armor fuckers left, and stroll out like I own the place. Then we link up."
Harley cut in, "Hold up! Steal the vault's cash, kill the Iron Armor guys, and just walk out? That's fucking insane."
She didn't say it outright, but her meaning was clear: she didn't believe Jason could pull off something that batshit crazy.
David and Christine's expressions echoed her doubt.
Jason grinned mysteriously. "You are forgetting something? I've got powers."
Harley, David, and Christine instantly recalled how Jason had boosted their shooting skills overnight.
Harley had once told them Jason could make piles of cash vanish in a blink. Was that what he meant by his "money power"?
After a long pause, Harley said, "If you can guarantee you won't get yourself killed, I'm in."
David and Christine nodded in agreement.
Jason smirked. "Relax. I'm not about to throw my life away."
The four hashed out the plan from top to bottom, plugging any holes until it was airtight, then got to work.
David and Harley grilled Kevin for every detail of his habits and relationships to keep Jason from blowing his cover.
Christine rallied the Black Organization for an emergency meet and spent the night crafting a perfect mask of Kevin's face.
…
Time was tight. They didn't sleep.
Harley and David kept interrogating Kevin, cataloging every detail of his behavior and connections, then handed the notes to Jason.
Jason sat in a chair, getting made up while memorizing the dossier word for word.
They worked straight through to noon the next day, finishing every last task.
At the dining table, the four ate together.
Jason was unrecognizable, transformed into Kevin's spitting image.
To ensure he didn't fuck up, Christine poured every ounce of her skill into the disguise.
A normal mask took hours; Jason's ultra-thin one took eight fucking hours to craft.
Jason touched the mask, marveling at how it felt like real skin. It was so good it could fool anyone.
Christine, sporting dark circles under her eyes, said wearily, "Trust my work. As long as you don't do something stupid, even Kevin's best bud won't spot the difference."
"I trust your skills," Jason said, his voice now Kevin's, thanks to a small device Christine had rigged to his throat, tweaking his vocal cords to match.
After lunch, it was go-time.
They ran through the plan one last time, then split to execute.
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You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
500 powerstones.
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