You want war?

"Jarvis, analyze that beam just now and tell me…"

"Understood. Based on the analysis, there's a 96% chance that it's… this."

Tony looked at the image Jarvis provided and suddenly felt relieved.

The image showed a tall, muscular figure in a blue bodysuit with a red cape fluttering in the wind. He was hovering in mid-air, with his eyes emitting rays nearly identical to those from Lynch earlier.

"Superman?"

Could there really be a Superman in this world? And one who's an Asian man with black hair?

That's ridiculous!

"Superman? Come on, Tony, you should stop watching so many fantasy movies and reading novels."

Lynch shifted his gaze to a plane where some American soldiers were panicking.

The heat vision he just used forced the three planes to quickly distance themselves, although, to Lynch, it was useless.

"I'm not some Superman. So those guys can forget about making me bow."

"What's happening? Major! Answer me!"

In the military command center, a balding, grim-faced general asked sternly.

"Sir, this is unwise…"

Rhodey stood nearby, flanked by two soldiers, arguing passionately, his usually dark face turning red with emotion.

A few minutes ago, this general had taken control and was preparing to order an attack on Lynch.

Rhodey couldn't resist his superior and had to surrender command while trying to persuade the reckless general.

After his persistent arguments, the general agreed not to target Tony, but when it came to Lynch, Rhodey was out of luck.

Tony at least had status as a major figure at Stark Industries and was already on the radar of certain special individuals. No sane person in the military would dare touch him.

But Lynch, an unknown figure with monstrous abilities, piqued the general's interest.

The US military has a long-standing history of conducting risky secret experiments.

Lynch's extraordinary qualities and the lack of any data on him were enough to tempt the military into taking the risk of capturing him for research, aiming to create super soldiers.

"Shut up, Colonel! You have no idea how beneficial someone this powerful could be to the US military. If you can't stand quietly here, then get out!"

The white-haired general glared at Rhodey, yelling furiously.

Rhodey met his gaze defiantly but didn't say anything further.

"Report! Report!"

The communication device on the command platform crackled to life.

"Speak! What's going on?"

The general returned to the platform, frowning.

"The target suddenly fired an unknown laser-like attack from his eyes, shredding the Iron Armor piloted by Obadiah!"

"What?"

The general's face twisted with skepticism. "Major, what are you saying?"

"Sir! The target can fire laser attacks from his eyes! Just like…"

"Like what?"

"Like Superman!"

"Are you joking, Major?"

"No! Everyone here saw it—he easily disintegrated that armor with his eye beams! The target is watching us now… We've pulled back and are awaiting further orders."

The general fell silent.

After a while, he straightened up and emotionlessly ordered, "Proceed with the operation as planned. Reinforcements will arrive shortly."

"Sir, Tony Stark is still out there! If something happens to him…" Rhodey said anxiously.

"Open fire! Fire at will!"

The general's face twisted with rage as he slammed his right fist onto the platform.

"Now! I'll take full responsibility!"

"Yes, sir."

On the plane, the middle-aged white major in charge of the operation switched the communication channel to the action frequency and quickly ordered, "Execute the operation as planned. Repeat, execute the operation as planned! Acknowledge."

"Roger!"

He then turned to his deputy, a young man who had never seen combat and was visibly nervous.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir," the young man instinctively replied, but then hesitated and asked softly, "Can we… win?"

The major almost cursed, but held back.

"There's no war that guarantees victory, and no war without casualties!"

He looked solemn.

"For America!"

"Man, why does this feel like I'm the villain here?"

Lynch stood atop the Iron Armor, smirking.

You have to admit, the US military's brainwashing is quite effective.

In America, joining the military is seen as a source of pride and honor.

But is the US military really that glorious?

Those who know understand what they're really like.

The US military is full of dirty secrets. Active soldiers are proud of their service, but once they're out, the reality hits hard.

To serve American interests, they act as global police, meddling in other countries' affairs, waging wars in others' homelands, doing terrible things, all while putting on a noble facade.

In the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the US military is the quintessential villain—short-sighted and unscrupulous.

Take the Hulk incident, for example—the military's stupidity and ugliness were on full display.

Now, the military's pursuit of Lynch is similar to the Hulk's story.

To create soldiers capable of global domination, they recklessly harm innocent people, only to mess things up and create problems they can't fix.

"Tony, they're making a move."

"What? Are they crazy?"

"Yes, the kind of madness that comes before destruction. They're almost here."

"We need to get out of here."

"It's too late. You should go; they probably won't target you."

Three helicopters surrounded them, guns and missiles locked on.

On one of the helicopters, the major sternly gave the order:

"Open fire!"

"Go!"

Lynch crouched down and then leaped hard.

He shot toward one of the helicopters like an arrow.

This time, he didn't use heat vision.

He realized that heat vision drains a lot of energy.

Just a few seconds of using it had left him noticeably fatigued.

Far more tired than when he fought the Iron Monger.

Lynch speculated that as a young Kryptonian, his energy reserves were still low, making it difficult to freely use abilities like heat vision.

But he didn't need heat vision this time.

The three helicopters unleashed their machine guns and cannons simultaneously, creating a web of fire around Lynch within a five-meter radius.

The firepower of these military helicopters far surpassed that of the Iron Monger—it was like comparing a child's fireworks to a real battlefield.

Lynch moved swiftly in the air, using the recoil to change direction and dodging most of the firepower.

Then, like a predator swooping down, he streaked through the sky toward a helicopter.

"Don't let him get close!"

On one of the helicopters, the major shouted.

But Lynch was too fast, almost impossible to target. In just two or three seconds, he was already upon the helicopter.

The helicopter tried to ascend quickly to dodge, but Lynch still grabbed onto the fuselage.

"Got you."

Lynch clung to the helicopter, his whole body aching from the pain.

He realized he had overestimated himself and underestimated the US military. The weapons on these helicopters were far more deadly than regular firearms, and their firepower posed a serious threat to him.