079. Who Will Save Iron Man

It was already the latter half of the night, and New York’s nightlife was drawing to a close. Joe Higashi led the inebriated Andy Bogard and the others to temporarily stay at the Bajiquan Dojo. Meanwhile, Mai Shiranui and King, along with a few others, were resting in the lounge on the bar’s second floor.

Originally, Mai had planned to leave the door open for Su Ye, letting him slip into the room later to see if he could find the right person. “As long as you can find me, I’ll let you go afterward…” she had said, her face flushed, clearly tipsy. Whether she was emboldened by alcohol to say what she truly felt, yearning for a more thrilling challenge, or simply pretending to be drunk to test him with this provocative suggestion, was unclear.

Su Ye, of course, refused her with righteous determination. No matter the reason, he would not agree. “It’s not just four people—if there were forty in the room, I could still find you. The question is, after I find you… Do you really think, given your tolerance, the others wouldn’t notice?”

There were others in the room, after all. What did they take him for—some lecherous brute who couldn’t control himself regardless of the circumstances? And what if he picked the wrong person—would he just go along with it if the other party didn’t object?

No, that wasn’t his style. He was a man of integrity! Su Ye reassured himself with conviction.

“You’re right. Then let’s go to sleep. Goodnight!” Mai, her cheeks still red, gave him a look of approval as if he’d answered correctly, smiled, and turned to leave.

Watching her go, Su Ye stretched out his hand—thinking, “You won’t try to persuade me just once more? Who knows, maybe I’d have agreed.”

Su Ye hadn’t drunk much, and his powerful, spider-enhanced physique quickly dispelled any lingering effects of the alcohol. After sending off Joe and the others, and watching Mai and the girls leave, he stepped out, returning to the Batcave beneath the castle. He had a hunch that the night’s events weren’t over yet.

Loki had suffered a setback here—beaten up and humiliated—he definitely wouldn’t give up on revenge so easily.

In the early hours, a streak of flame descended from the sky, crashing down near the spot where Loki had summoned the Bifrost to leave. Iron Man, after being battered by the Destroyer, had flown with Thor for over two or three hours, covering more than four thousand kilometers in a desperate flight.

The turbulence along the way had only worsened Tony Stark’s injuries. In the end, unable to hold on any longer, he crashed to the ground in a most undignified fashion—skidding face-first for dozens of meters before finally coming to a stop.

Thor, by contrast, had no protection at all—dragged along for hours through the air, yet after landing, he looked invigorated, as if he could have kept flying all day without tiring.

“Are you Mr. Tony Stark and Mr. Thor Odinson?” As soon as they landed, a few black-suited agents emerged from the shadows. When they saw Iron Man sprawled on the ground, they reached for their phones in shock. “Come in, come in, Iron Man has arrived, but the situation is a bit unusual—call for an ambulance immediately!”

“No need, I’m fine!” Iron Man pulled his head from the dirt and, wobbling, stood up. To be hospitalized immediately after flying all the way from Los Angeles to New York? He couldn’t bear that embarrassment!

“Where’s the hammer…” On the way there, Tony Stark had already contacted Nick Fury and informed him about Mjolnir, so their objective was clear.

But Loki’s objective was even clearer.

Just as Tony began to speak, the Bifrost once again crashed down from the sky. The Destroyer emerged once more from the rainbow light, the dents Iron Man had made on its body now entirely gone.

“The hammer! The hammer! Go find the hammer, hurry! Hurry!” Iron Man shouted as he fired up his thrusters, ascending and unleashing dozens of micro-missiles toward the newly arrived Destroyer, successfully drawing its attention before pulling away to gain distance.

Thor, meanwhile, was led by the agents to the Shiranui Dojo, where the hammer was located.

Standing beside Mjolnir, Thor wore a slightly lascivious smile as he reached out for the handle, his movements gentle, as if it were Valentine’s Day, and with no lover, he could only open his hard drive and grasp the source of all his sins.

“My old friend, it’s been a while. Come, fight alongside me again!” Thor called softly, giving the hammer a mighty tug. (Do not attempt this at home, as it’s easy to pull a muscle.)

Yet the expected response did not come. The hammer showed no reaction at all, as if it had lost all interest in his touch.

“Could it be… my grip is wrong?” Thor adjusted, switching from one hand to two—a maneuver that required the handle to be at least long enough for a two-handed grip.

(Don’t attempt this if you can’t manage it…)

After several tries, Thor realized it had nothing to do with his posture. No matter how much force he applied, Mjolnir remained utterly unresponsive.

Why? Thor, like a confused child, was filled with questions. Why wouldn’t it move? The handle was clearly solid!

Overhead, storm clouds had gathered, thunder roared, and rain poured down—but Thor simply knelt by the hammer, soaked and desolate. The rain wasn’t his doing, and no matter how much fell, it had nothing to do with him.

High above, Iron Man—chased through the sky like a fly by the Destroyer—sent a frantic radio transmission. “What’s going on? Didn’t you say you had backup here? Where is it?”

The Destroyer’s facial flame jets were swift and wide-ranging. Iron Man’s armor, already badly damaged, left him dodging in utter disarray. While speaking with Thor, he failed to evade in time and was struck by a blast from the Destroyer, tumbling from the sky.

“I’m done for!” Tony Stark felt a wave of despair. Was he fated to clash with disaster every time he set foot in New York?

Last time, Ivan Vanko had set him up here—his suit crashed, and he’d almost been caught like a rat in a trap. Now it was the Destroyer, and he’d been hit again, his flight systems failing, unable even to stabilize in midair.

If he fell like this, wouldn’t he be at their mercy yet again?

Below, the Destroyer’s face flared red once more. One more blast, and Iron Man might be finished for good.

He wondered if Spider-Man or Batman had time to help him—a little humiliating, perhaps, but better than losing his life.

Just as Tony Stark was praying, a web shot through the air, snagged him, and yanked him sideways to safety.

“Spider-Man’s here? I’m saved!” Midair, Stark glanced toward the web’s origin, but his brow furrowed.

“This Spider-Man… the costume’s a different color, and he’s shorter, thinner than before… or am I remembering wrong?”