Capítulo 1597: Chapter 1072: Father and Son (Part 1)_1

"Well done, Mr. Wilson, you do fly remarkably well. Although you're not quite on par with me yet, congratulations, you're hired." Stark shook Sam's hand, still clad in gauntlets, the face guard lifted, revealing a smile from Sam.

"However, having you as a close-quarters combat armor tester is somewhat of a waste of your talent." Stark shifted the topic, walking over to the experiment table and pressing a few buttons on the screen beside it.

Sam's heavy armor was removed. He descended from the dock, only to hear another round of whirring from machinery parts, followed by a whooshing sound.

Sam felt something hit his back, a sticky substance covering it. Turning his head, he saw a pair of wings made of steel appear behind him, connected to his back with a gooey, glue-like substance.

"Stark Group and Osborn Group's joint development, bio-tech flight wings, the latest nerve control version. You're in luck, buddy," Stark announced with a snap of his fingers.

"Osborn Group realized that they couldn't compete with Stark Group in the field of aerial transportation, so they took a step back and began to develop single-person flight equipment. This is their latest result, and the project team is in need of a tester with aerial flight experience," he explained.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, a strange sensation reaching his brain. It was as if these wings were limbs he had always possessed. Flexing his shoulder muscles slightly, one of the wings twitched responsively, causing him to yelp in surprise.

Rhodes rubbed his chin, asking, "Why not recruit airforce pilots as testers? Their sense of balance and reaction times would be superior, wouldn't they?"

Stark nodded, responding, "But their muscle memory is also stronger. Essentially, air force pilots remain drivers. The training the air forces give them makes flying a fighter jet second nature, but this instinct may hinder their adaptability to new equipment, particularly those involving nerve control."

"Initially, I had thought about collaborating with the air force, recruiting a batch of special pilots and training them from scratch. However, you gave me an idea—Paratroopers might be a better option," Stark explained with a flourish of his hand. "In the future, the emphasis of wing technology will be on safety. Since our ultimate goal is for civilian use, we do not need overly specialized testers."

"While paratroopers may not have the same level of balance control or reflexes as actual pilots, they are bolder, have stronger physique, and a better tolerance for high altitudes. They can cope with a variety of unexpected situations in the air, even without driving any mecha."

With that said, he walked over and fist-bumped with Rhodes, proclaiming, "I told you, we make the best team."

"Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen," Sam interjected, "I think these wings aren't quite a match in proportion for my body size—they're a little too small. Do you happen to have a larger pair?"

Stark raised an eyebrow at him, remarking, "Don't overestimate yourself, man. Those big things aren't something that someone of your size can handle."

Sam shrugged and flashed his distinctively African-American, slightly hip-hop styled grin, replying, "My strength isn't reflected in my physique. During my service in the Special Forces, I broke the highest height and longest time parachuting record for three consecutive years. If it weren't for some unexpected events leading to my premature retirement, I would be a Lieutenant Colonel by now."

Stark glanced at Rhodes, who nodded agreement. "In the paratrooper corps, Sam performed above and beyond. He is capable of parachuting under any harsh conditions, over any rugged terrain, serving as a sharp knife for handling any kind of sudden contingencies. You can trust his abilities."

Stark pointed at Sam and agreed, "All right, let's take a look at that big thing then..."

After saying this, he touched the screen lightly again. The mechanical wings on Sam's back were disengaged and fell to the ground. When Sam turned around and saw a chunk of nauseous slime, he frowned, but didn't react too much.

Soon, in the corner of his eye, a small black dot appeared outside the glass curtain wall. Like a giant bird, or a plane, when these wings flew onto the dock, Sam couldn't help but swear.

The wingspan of this metallic marvel exceeded ten meters, designed with double-layer wing construction. The neatly arranged steel feathers looked like one sharp knife after another, and the wind and airflow roared as they passed.

At first glance, it was a full-on iron monster, and the slime near its control center looked like an intimidating giant mouth awaiting its next meal.

"I call it 'Angel', yes, that name comes from a mutant. His family's enterprise also participated in the development of civilian flight equipment. In fact, he was in charge of the design of the nerve system control. That came from his own flying experience," Stark elaborated, walking up to the prototype'S front.

"At first, both Osborn and I were not too keen on making such large flight equipment. After all, most ordinary people don't have the physical strength or reactive abilities to handle such massive equipment," he admitted.

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