Chapter 68

In the live broadcast, the G-0 War Lord twisted its massive frame, bent its seemingly nonexistent waist, and dug into the remains of the steel soldiers with both hands.

"What is the Apostle doing?"

Audiences across the United States were watching this scene in confusion on live television. Everyone was curiously observing Luke's actions, wondering if there was some deeper meaning behind them or if he had discovered something significant.

No one suspected that Luke was simply looting the corpses.

Due to the distance, the camera couldn't capture Luke's muttering.

At this moment, he was talking to himself, "Sensors? Great stuff, I want it! Radar? Fantastic, I'll take it! Huh? Even this shell is military-grade! I want it all!"

Everything on the Iron Soldiers was valuable in his eyes.

Sensors, radars, power accumulators, heat exchangers, hydraulic transmissions—these weren't the low-end civilian-grade goods he could buy online. Even the armor plating on these steel soldiers was composed of top-tier military materials.

"It's coming, it's coming!"

Luke worked quickly, detaching components and tossing them into his storage space. His face was flushed with excitement.

Just from his "ex-wife," he had collected over two hundred missiles!

Each Iron Soldier had been carrying twenty missiles—practically a walking arsenal.

"If they're worth $200,000 each, that's… forty million dollars in missiles alone!"

Luke did some quick math, and the realization nearly made him faint from joy.

After picking through the wreckage, he had an even bolder thought—he wanted to throw all the remaining steel soldiers into his storage space.

But he managed to suppress that temptation.

Thanks to Ross, he had expanded his storage space to 30m×30m—a massive improvement. It was enough to store all the steel soldiers on the battlefield, but doing so would cause problems later. Too many people were watching.

Small missing components could be explained—after all, the War Lord was big enough to hold them. But if entire Iron Soldiers disappeared, Nick Fury would definitely be pissed.

While Luke happily scavenged, the American media had already started analyzing his actions.

In the CNN live broadcast room, the female host discussed the battle with a renowned military expert.

"General Hades, how would you evaluate the battle we just witnessed?" the host asked with a smile.

Across from her sat a white-haired retired U.S. Army lieutenant general. Though aged, he exuded authority and energy.

The general answered seriously, "From the battle footage, we can clearly conclude that Mr. Apostle is a highly skilled combat veteran."

"Could you elaborate?"

"The way he fights—his precision, efficiency, and sheer speed—these aren't things an amateur can replicate. His movements require thousands of hours of battlefield experience, tested through blood and fire."

"So, what do you make of the Apostle's current behavior?"

"I believe he's gathering intelligence while simultaneously securing the battlefield," the general responded.

"Intelligence gathering?"

"He's checking for any remaining threats. I stand by my analysis—Mr. Apostle is an elite warrior, trained to a degree most people can't comprehend. I've studied all his available combat footage. Trust my judgment."

Meanwhile, inside the cockpit, Ross was unimpressed with Luke's performance.

"Your looting skills are subpar, kid! Based on your current efficiency, I can only give you a D-rank at best," Ross scoffed.

"A D-rank?!" Luke was indignant. "Damn, if I had known, I wouldn't have taken out the Iron Soldiers so fast. Maybe I should add some extra flair?"

"It's not too late."

"You know what? You're right!"

Luke controlled the mecha, pulled out its massive 6.5-meter-long greatsword, walked back to the wreckage, and, one by one, stabbed each Iron Soldier in the rear.

In the CNN live studio, the lieutenant general chuckled. "See? Mr. Apostle must have identified lingering threats. This behavior is called 'confirming the kill.' It's a battlefield habit only true veterans develop."

"But why is he striking them in… the rear?" the female host hesitated.

"You must have misunderstood. Trust my professional expertise, as well as Mr. Apostle's military instincts—"

The female host suddenly pointed at the screen. "Oh my God! Look! Mr. Apostle is kicking the butts of these steel wrecks!"

The lieutenant general: "…"

Luke finished stabbing the remains, then delivered a few well-placed kicks, shattering the wreckage he couldn't take with him.

High above, Tony Stark was engaged in a fierce aerial battle.

The rogue War Machine and a squad of pursuing Iron Soldiers had turned the sky into a battlefield, putting on a spectacular aerial chase.

"Tony, heads up! A squad of Iron Soldiers just broke formation and is returning to the expo!" Rhodey relayed over the comms. Though he had no control over his suit, he was at least able to provide valuable information.

Tony, flying about ten meters ahead, responded, "Got it."

"They're locking onto you! Tony, be careful!"

As soon as Rhodey finished, War Machine's shoulder-mounted Gatling gun unleashed a torrent of bullets.

Tony swerved, dodging the gunfire. His Mark VI suit had vastly superior mobility, and he had already outmaneuvered and taken down four of his pursuers.

Back at the expo, additional Iron Soldiers activated, with Ivan Vanko remotely commanding them to reinforce the battle.

As the enemy reinforcements took flight, Luke, who was still in the middle of desecrating the wreckage, suddenly had a bold idea.

In the movie, Tony had tricked the Iron Soldiers into pursuing him, leading them into a deadly trap.

Luke felt that he couldn't miss such a prime opportunity to steal the spotlight.

He gritted his teeth and made up his mind. "Screw it! If it's for the score, I'm all in!"

He no longer cared about appearing ridiculous.

If he didn't maximize his performance now, he might miss out on valuable rewards—an outcome he simply couldn't accept.

The G-0 War Lord planted its feet firmly, gripping its massive 6.5-meter greatsword with both hands. The blade was tilted upwards.

He was about to unleash Asura's Evil Light Slash.

Closing his eyes briefly, Luke focused. He could feel the strange energy inside him—an entirely different force from the energy used to generate his shields.

Initially, he had been confused about why he had two distinct energy sources within him. But since they didn't conflict, he assumed the system had harmonized them.

He channeled the wave energy through his body, directing it into the mecha, and from there into the sword.

Luke adjusted the mecha's stance, gripping the sword in both hands.

The greatsword began to glow—softly at first, then increasingly intense. Layer upon layer of radiant white light built up around it.

Charging…

Accumulating power…

Concentrating all his wave energy into the blade…

The War Lord's mechanical eyes locked onto Tony and his airborne pursuers in the distance.

The sword's glow intensified, shifting from a warm radiance to a blinding blaze. In the darkness of the night, it resembled a miniature sun.

Asura's Evil Light Slash—ready to fire.

Tony drew closer.

The War Lord's mechanical eyes flashed—then, with a mighty swing, the blade was unleashed!

At the same time, an antenna popped up on top of the War Lord's head, swaying slightly in the wind.

Luke shouted, "Ex—calibur!!!"

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