Leo looked at the incredibly agitated, murderous man pinned before him, and unconsciously crushed the newspaper in his hand into a tight metallic ball. The final, venomous curse confirmed everything Leo needed to know. This wasn't a desperate mugger; this was pure, unadulterated evil, a hunter who enjoyed killing.
"So it seems you did it," Leo whispered, his voice dangerously soft. Twenty bodies. He had forfeited his right to a second chance, or even a police station.
Leo took a small step back, his face devoid of emotion. He flicked his wrist, and the black, slender dagger that had fallen near the car floated up into the air, spinning rapidly.
It transformed into a streak of black light—a perfect metallic projectile—and pierced the man directly through the center of his chest. The knife tore through the body, punched clean through the car's body panel, and embedded itself deep into the concrete pavement with a metallic thud, still stained with a dark trace of arterial blood.
The man felt a searing, sharp pain in his chest, but before he could even register a cry, a massive geyser of blood gushed out, soaking the ground around the taxi. All his considerable strength drained away in an instant. He looked at the small, eleven-year-old boy one last time with utter disbelief—a look of confusion mixed with profound shock—then lowered his head, his breathing stopped, and his body slumped against the metal bonds.
Leo's eyes flickered once. He raised his hand, retrieving the three metal plates that had secured the man, along with the six hundred dollars and his own cell phone. Using one of the recovered metal strips, he meticulously nailed the stack of newspapers, now stained with the man's blood, to the side of the taxi.
"Well," Leo muttered, a chilling neutrality in his voice. Problem solved.
He turned and calmly walked away, flying low, utilizing the cover of the shadows toward a small alley on the edge of the city limits. He emerged, hailed another taxi as if nothing had happened, and proceeded to a brightly lit, sterile supermarket to buy what he needed.
He didn't smile once during the entire shopping trip. The cold reality of what he'd done—necessary, justified, but undeniably lethal—lay heavy on his young mind.
He ordered ten cheeseburgers and five industrial-sized servings of fries at a nearby fast-food drive-through. Leo took a taxi loaded with three large bags of food, arriving at a quiet open space about a kilometer from Tony's Malibu gates.
Leo paid the driver and started walking. Once the taxi disappeared around the bend, he immediately accelerated into a low, soundless flight, gliding over the property line and back into the mansion. He walked the final few hundred meters as if he'd simply returned from a casual stroll.
Pepper was still sitting motionless on the sofa, bathed in the pale glow of her computer screen, completely engrossed in damage control. She looked up and gasped when she saw Leo walking in, carrying an astonishing amount of food.
"Leo, did you seriously go into the city, alone, just now?" she asked, her voice incredulous, looking at the steaming hot hamburger box Leo placed on the coffee table.
"Of course, Pepper. I have money, and I know how to flag down a car," Leo replied, his tone slightly distant.
"Leo, you're still very young. It's seriously dangerous out there at night. There are muggings every single day. I don't even dare stay outside too long myself." Pepper walked over and gave Leo a worried pat on the shoulder, a hint of lingering fear in her eyes. "Leo, please promise me you won't go out alone next time, okay? I'll hire a staff chef tomorrow to make sure we have plenty of food. You just stay home with Tony."
"Mmm. Pepper, how many hamburgers would you like?" Leo asked, deftly changing the subject.
"Just one is plenty, thank you, Leo. That's very sweet."
"Okay. I'm heading downstairs. Mr. Stark hasn't eaten since the noodles this morning."
Leo gathered his bags and walked toward the lab entrance. Pepper settled back down at her computer, looking at the warm hamburger in her hand, a small, grateful smile finally appearing on her face.
"Mr. Stark, I flew into the city and purchased sustenance. Come have some; there's your favorite cheeseburger," Leo said, walking into the basement.
He placed two cheeseburgers right next to Tony's keyboard.
Tony glanced at them, his eyes barely leaving the screen. He reached out, grabbed one, opened it, and immediately started eating. "Leo, you seem… fine. Did everything go alright?"
"Hmm? What could possibly be wrong?"
"Nothing. It's fine. I just finished optimizing the dampening program. I'm going to import it and test the stabilizers again," Tony said, tapping a few final keys. The core of the robotic arm's flight stabilizer on the side lit up with a low, intense hum.
They got back to work, falling into their strange, symbiotic rhythm. Leo played the vital minor roles: disassembling equipment with supernatural precision, providing minute structural feedback, and, most importantly, acting as the instantaneous, living safety net to protect Mr. Stark from crashing into walls, catching fire, or fusing his own gear onto his arm.
The next morning, after nearly sixty continuous hours of work, Tony looked at the stable impact force readings and the flight stabilizer that could now be adjusted in real-time. He let out a deep, weary sigh of victory.
Tony Stark, exhausted but triumphant, stumbled out of the basement and collapsed into a deep, well-deserved sleep.
Leo looked around the utterly chaotic studio. Tools, wires, dismantled components, and discarded pizza boxes were everywhere. He looked at the slow, perpetually confused robotic arm, 'Little Dumb,' which was diligently, yet inefficiently, trying to clean a patch of floor.
Tony had often claimed to Pepper that "nostalgia is not one of his traits," yet he never abandoned this sometimes-clumsy robotic arm—his graduation project from MIT at age seventeen.
Leo decided to speed up the process. He floated gently into the air, raising both hands. With a complex surge of his D-Rank Metal Control, every metallic object, or item containing metal parts, lifted into the air simultaneously. The wrenches zipped to their racks, screws returned to their sorted bins, and the debris flew into the refuse chute.
In just thirty seconds, the entire studio was transformed from utter chaos into a state of clinical, military-grade neatness.
"Jarvis, is there anything else that needs adjusting to Mr. Stark's preferred specifications?" Leo asked, looking at the now-empty, gleaming studio.
There was silence, save for the faint whirring of Little Dumb's arm, which was now confused as to where to place the small piece of wire it held.
Leo felt a touch disappointed, but quickly recovered. "It's only been two days. Take your time, no rush," he reassured himself, picking up a few stray design drafts and books from the floor that had no metal content and placing them neatly on the desk.
Just as Leo was about to step out the door, the clear voice of the AI finally spoke.
"Mr. Leo, according to Mr. Stark's documented work habits, the pneumatic wrench on the left side of the workbench should be placed on the second shelf on the right. Conversely, the welding torch and associated rosin tools on the right should be placed on the bottom shelf on the left. Organization must be symmetrical but deliberately confusing to others."
"Okay, Jarvis. Duly noted," Leo said, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. I have a relationship with the AI now. That's a key access point.
He returned to his room and his singular focus.
Six hours later, Leo opened his eyes. Another piece of high-grade metal had been fully absorbed, its vital energy stripped away, leaving behind only a dull, inert block piled high in the corner.
He checked his status:
Control Points: 80 (+1)
Strength: 16
Defense: 19
Speed: 9
Spirit: 19
Skill: D-Rank Metal Control, D-Rank Body
Enhancement: Golden Eyes (100%), Copper Skin (100%), Steel Bars (49% -> 50%), Iron Bones (0%)
Derivative Skill: Golden Eyes of Truth (Unaffected by any abilities, sees through all illusions, enhances visual observation, and can metallize objects), Immovable Golden Body (Greatly enhances defensive power; feet firmly planted on the ground; possesses unlimited stamina; body regeneration speed is increased; cannot be moved by external forces)
His eyes gleamed with a faint golden light, allowing him to observe the internal workings of his own body. While the changes in his organs weren't obvious, his internal vascular structure—his arteries, veins, and capillaries—had visibly strengthened, becoming incredibly dense and robust. They felt like they had reached a critical threshold of density.
He clenched his fist. The veins on his forearm bulged, radiating a faint, internal glow that quickly subsided.
Every time an enhancement hits 50%, the body undergoes a physical change. I wonder what it will be this time, Leo mused, feeling a surge of raw, contained physical power.
He used his Golden Eyes to scan the house. Tony Stark was awake and working out in the high-tech gym on the second floor.
Leo walked up and knocked politely on the gym door.
"Come in," a strained voice commanded from inside.
"Mr. Stark, what would you like for lunch?" Leo asked, looking past the exercise equipment at the blinding midday sun outside the window.
"Huff… forty-nine… fifty! Hnnf!" Tony stood up from the bench press, panting heavily, his chest glistening with sweat. The enormous barbell was loaded with weights that looked dangerously heavy.
"I already hired two chefs, Leo. They're downstairs now. Pepper told me about your, uh, considerable appetite, so I'm ensuring you eat your fill this time," Tony said, wiping his face with a towel and looking at the noticeably short boy.
"You're eleven years old, but you're so short. Is that a side effect of the superpowers? Some kind of stunted growth?" Tony, ever the diagnostician, couldn't resist the jab.
Leo walked over to the bench press machine. He casually reached down, picked up the barbell Tony had just used, and lightly weighed it in his hand, rotating it once. The sheer effortlessness of the action—the ease with which he handled hundreds of pounds of steel—was horrifying. The barbell looked like a plastic toy in his grip.
"Leo, I think we need to conduct that medical check-up this afternoon," Tony said quickly, taking two involuntary steps back from the boy spinning his massive weights. "Right now, in fact!"