A week had passed since leaving Stark Industrial Park. Ethan Chen, who had hoped to return home within that time, was starting to feel a bit frustrated. Iron Man—Tony Stark—still hadn't confronted Obadiah, and the delay was making Ethan restless.
"Yeah, developing a full Iron Man suit isn't as quick as it looks in the movies. In the film, it takes just a few minutes. In reality? Who knows how many days it'll take?"
Ethan had seen a streak of light flash across the night sky yesterday—it was likely Tony testing out the suit. But he knew that even after a test flight, it would still be a while before Iron Man and Iron Monger clashed.
Now, Ethan was facing another issue. He had finally received a message from his home country's military. His father had informed him that the military wanted him back immediately.
That left Ethan torn. On one hand, there was a long-anticipated opportunity for collaboration. On the other hand, he was deeply interested in Tony Stark's armor tech. The thought of missing out on it really gnawed at him.
"What should I do?"
The inner conflict made Ethan visibly gloomy.
"Forget it, I'll go back first. I can't leave the military waiting too long. Tony's still around, and there'll be other chances in the future. Plus, the first generation of the suit isn't exactly cutting-edge—I might be better off planning ahead."
Knowing Tony Stark was Iron Man gave him a sense of security. There would be time and opportunities down the road to get access to that technology.
So, despite a touch of regret, Ethan booked his return flight and left for home that same night.
"You're back? Hurry up and pack, we're heading to meet the military."
Ethan had barely stepped off the plane when his father greeted him—not with a warm welcome, but with urgency. Ethan couldn't help but feel a little exasperated.
"Come on, Dad, I just got off a ten-hour flight. I'm jetlagged and exhausted."
He rubbed his temples and sighed. "And it's nighttime here!"
With the U.S. and China being on opposite sides of the planet, the time difference was brutal. He had boarded his flight at night, and now, stepping off, it was still night.
And now, instead of rest, he had to go meet someone important.
"Just from the setup, you can tell he's someone high up. Probably a top military figure," his father explained as they got into the car. "Your Uncle Chen is standing next to him like a bodyguard—he wouldn't do that unless the guy was a big deal."
Ethan nodded, feeling a bit more reassured. If a senior officer like Uncle Chen was acting like security, that meant this visit was serious—but also promising. At the very least, it showed the military took his previous weapons submission seriously.
China's own firearms technology was decent, but the schematics Ethan had submitted far outclassed it. His designs even included "black tech" features, found only in cutting-edge American military equipment. That alone was enough to stir excitement.
The fact that such a high-level official was meeting him personally showed that the military valued his input.
"You can nap in the car," his father said. "It's another half hour to the meeting point. You could use the rest."
Ethan had no luggage to worry about, so he just leaned back in his seat.
"Listen, you'd better watch what you say," his father warned. "If he asks you anything, just be honest. We can't afford to step on any toes."
His dad actually felt a bit of regret about helping Ethan build the prototype weapon and handing it over to the government. At the time, he hadn't fully grasped how advanced the design was. Now, he was worried this meeting might not be a reward—it might be a reckoning. And he feared Ethan might say something reckless.
Back then, he'd acted on impulse, believing his son had a bright future. He just wanted to help him stand out.
"Actually, Dad," Ethan said with a grin, "I was just about to bring that up. Since they reached out to me, I know how to handle it. Don't say anything later—I'll take care of it."
"…"
"Relax, I'm not a kid anymore. Let me handle my own business."
"I'm going to nap now. Please drive slow—I need to catch some sleep…"
With that, Ethan leaned back, closed his eyes, and quickly drifted off. He really was exhausted. He made a mental note to start working on his physical endurance as soon as possible.
"…"
His father could only sigh with a helpless smile. He didn't wake Ethan and drove more slowly so his son could rest.
An hour later, they finally arrived. Waiting for them was Ethan's Uncle Zhang—a solid, dependable man with the unmistakable bearing of a soldier, even though he was dressed in casual clothes. After all, the meeting place was a restaurant—not somewhere you'd typically wear a uniform.
"You finally made it! What took you so long?" Uncle Zhang grumbled as soon as he saw Ethan's father. Then he turned to Ethan, grinning, "Long time no see, Ethan. You've really made something of yourself!"
It was clear Uncle Zhang knew just how powerful Ethan's weapon designs were. He looked genuinely impressed.
"Let's go, Uncle Zhang. So, who exactly are we meeting?" Ethan asked, intrigued.
"I can't say right now," Uncle Zhang replied with a smirk. "But once you see him, if you've read any military journals, you'll probably recognize him immediately."
With that, Uncle Zhang led them into the restaurant. They passed through a series of private hallways and rooms. Along the way, Ethan noticed several "guests" who didn't look like typical diners. These were definitely trained bodyguards. Clearly, this was no ordinary dinner.
Finally, they entered a private room.
"Is he here?"
Inside sat a middle-aged man, poised and composed, sipping tea. When Ethan and the others entered, he gave them a nod, his expression calm and eyes focused squarely on Ethan.
Hiss…
Ethan's father gasped sharply. He had clearly recognized the man sitting before them.
"Zhang Zhaozhong? General of the Southwestern Military Region?!"
(A special cameo by the Bureau Chief…)
Ethan's eyes widened in shock. This was the man he had known as the bureau chief in his previous life. How did he end up here in the Marvel Universe—as an admiral no less? Was the bureau chief really that formidable?