Chapter 232: Shut Up

This song was from Han Yu's previous life; it didn't exist in the Marvel Universe.

"I've never heard it before. Where can I listen to it? I'll look it up when I get back," Stark said with interest.

He had always been fond of pop music, often playing various pop tracks in his workshop.

Han Yu chuckled. He hadn't thought much while humming it earlier, but now he wondered how to explain it. After all, there was no Linkin Park in this world, so naturally, this song didn't exist.

"I'll find it for you later. Let's focus on business for now."

Stark didn't find anything odd about Han Yu's vague response. He simply nodded and continued to hum the tune Han Yu had just hummed, gradually getting more into it. If Han Yu hadn't known better, he would've thought Stark had composed the song himself.

With only five seconds left of the sixty-second countdown, T'Chaka was about to dismiss these seemingly boastful men when he caught a glimpse of a green light speeding towards them through the large floor-to-ceiling window.

In the blink of an eye, what was moments ago thousands of meters away now landed directly on the balcony nearby.

The sudden flash of light prompted several bald, dark-skinned women to rush in from outside. They were clad in red light armor and wielded long spears—the royal guard.

"No need to be alarmed. They're with me," Han Yu said with a slight smile.

As he spoke, the green light figure stepped inside. With each step, the glow around him faded until it vanished completely as he approached Han Yu and the others.

It was none other than Ultron, whom Han Yu had contacted a minute ago. Ultron was holding a man by the collar.

"Ulysses Klaue. A few days ago, he stole 3.15 tons of vibranium from Wakanda and was hiding at the Salva Mega Dock," Ultron stated.

He tossed Klaue to the ground and stood beside Han Yu, giving Stark a brief nod without any expression. Ultron no longer harbored any emotional fluctuations towards Stark. They weren't petty middle school kids who'd ignore each other after an argument. Ultron wasn't that childish. He had everything he needed at the shop now, so there was no point in holding grudges over past events.

"One minute. Right on time," Han Yu said, tapping his phone screen lightly with a chuckle.

The swift and decisive action left everyone, except T'Chaka, stunned. Was this all staged to gain their trust?

But upon reconsideration, that seemed unlikely. If it were an act, it would be too obvious.

Only T'Chaka knew Han Yu was genuine. Memories flashed in his mind—visions Han Yu had shown him long ago about Wakanda being attacked by extraterrestrial forces.

T'Chaka ordered someone to verify Klaue's identity. The man, still in shock, had been counting money just moments ago, never expecting to find himself back in Wakanda within a minute.

Completely disoriented, Klaue's eyes darted around. His hands, hidden behind his back, subtly activated a miniature sonic device on his right arm. He planned to create a distraction and make a run for it.

He wasn't going to surrender quietly—he hadn't become an arms dealer by being complacent.

However, the moment the sonic device activated, Klaue felt an indescribable pain surge through his right arm, lasting only an instant.

Dazed, he turned his arm around and saw that everything below his shoulder had been severed. The wound barely bled because the high temperature had cauterized it instantly, preventing any blood loss.

At that moment, he finally felt the searing pain radiating from the wound. Despite having endured countless hardships, his strong willpower kept him from crying out, but he still collapsed to his knees, unable to speak.

Klaue now felt that even the slightest movement would trigger excruciating pain, leaving him too terrified to make any attempt to move.

"Don't try any funny business."

Ultron cast a cold glance at the kneeling Klaue. With a casual flick of his hand, he tossed out a long, slender object. Everyone instinctively focused on it, only to realize it was an arm—Klaue's severed arm.

On the severed arm, there was a small, black device that was clearly visible.

Aside from Han Yu, both T'Chaka and Stark were stunned. They hadn't even seen what had just happened.

No, it wasn't just that they didn't see it clearly—they hadn't seen anything at all.

To their ordinary human eyes, Ultron hadn't made any noticeable move. They didn't even have time to blink before suddenly noticing an arm in Ultron's hand, while Klaue was now missing his.

None of them had the slightest clue when Ultron had struck.

(Illegible/irrelevant text omitted.)

"What terrifying speed... I've never been more grateful that I'm not an enemy of Han Yu and his people. No matter how many Iron Man suits I build, I'd stand no chance against them," Stark muttered, swallowing nervously.

He had been standing closest to Ultron, yet even so, he hadn't sensed Ultron make a move.

From his perspective, Ultron had merely said, "Don't try any funny business," and Klaue had dropped to his knees. Stark noticed Klaue's injury at the same time as everyone else.

If someone with that kind of speed wanted to assassinate him or take over his company, Stark wouldn't even have a chance to defend himself.

Han Yu shot a cold glance at Klaue, his expression unchanging. He had sensed Klaue's attempt at trickery but didn't even bother to act. He knew Ultron would catch it instantly.

With a body enhanced to the peak of Dou Zun, Han Yu could rightfully be called a god in the eyes of Earth's people—because he was one.

Unless subjected to concentrated nuclear strikes, attacks below the power of nuclear weapons would hardly cause him any harm.

At his peak Dou Zun speed, even if he slowed down a hundredfold, it would still be impossible for the human eye to track his movements.

"Any other objections?" Han Yu asked coldly. Now that Klaue had been brought in, anyone who still dared to argue was clearly overstepping.

He hadn't come here expecting to negotiate—or to fail.

"We have no objections," T'Chaka responded promptly.

The man who had previously dared to argue with Han Yu now kept his mouth shut, realizing the overwhelming difference between both sides. Saying anything more would be asking for death.

Especially with that icy look on Han Yu's face—one more word might provoke an attack. Others who wanted to speak opened their mouths, then wisely closed them again.

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