19

There is one thing that even Tony Stark's harshest critics will admit: the man is a genius, and his mind is a treasure to the world. His relentless innovation and wisdom have changed the course of technology time and again. Now, with a hint from his late father, Tony was on the verge of another breakthrough—creating a new element to save his own life.

Agent Coulson had come to say goodbye, as S.H.I.E.L.D. was transferring him to New Mexico. But Tony was only half-listening, his focus fixed on the intricate machinery and the glowing blueprints before him. The lab was a mess, with steel plates scorched and furniture battered from the dazzling laser he had just fired up. Tony twisted a giant wrench, adjusting the refractor blocks as the laser's energy poured into the new element's core. The machine hummed, the light intensified, and with a final surge, the new arc reactor was born.

Tony Stark would no longer be poisoned by palladium. He would live. And as he marveled at his creation, somewhere far away, another man was working feverishly on a similar device.

Ivan Vanko, the son of Anton Vanko, was a man consumed by bitterness and revenge. His father had once worked alongside Howard Stark, developing revolutionary energy technology. But greed and ambition had led to Anton's exile from the United States, banished to the frozen wastelands of Siberia. There, he had died in obscurity and regret, leaving Ivan with nothing but resentment and a burning desire for retribution.

Everything Tony Stark had, Ivan believed should have been his. The death of his father had only sharpened his hatred. In Ivan's eyes, the Stark family were thieves, and Howard's dishonesty would be paid for by his son.

Ivan hunched over his makeshift reactor, his hands moving with surprising finesse for a man who had spent years in the shadows. The reactor was crude, hand-built, and riddled with flaws, but Ivan knew its secrets. He remembered how, even in prison, Tony had improved the design with a few casual remarks. That memory stung, but it also fueled Ivan's determination.

He glanced at the deadly whip he had prepared, then answered a call on his Bluetooth headset. Justin Hammer, the man who had orchestrated Ivan's escape, was on the line, eager for an update. Hammer wanted to use the Stark Expo as a stage to crush Tony Stark once and for all. But Ivan's response was cool and dismissive—he could only promise a demonstration, not a full display. Hammer, frustrated, stormed into the lab to watch Ivan prepare his steel soldiers for the next phase.

Ivan only smiled. In his mind, Hammer was nothing more than a barking dog before a tiger.

Meanwhile, at the Wick residence, the doorbell rang. John opened the door to find Ferdinand standing outside, looking awkward in a gray suit and a pair of sunglasses that did nothing to hide his discomfort.

John raised an eyebrow, taking in Ferdinand's new look. "Wearing a suit and tie, are you an office worker now?" he teased, stepping outside.

Ferdinand shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable, but hurried after John. "My mother said that if I find a good job, I should cherish it," he explained as they walked into the garage. "She's right. I should be hanging out with a big shot, not collecting a few bucks here and there."

John stopped in front of a sleek black Audi R8 and turned to Ferdinand with a look of surprise. "Do you really think you're working with me?" he asked.

Ferdinand tried to sound confident. "I know you big guys always need someone you can trust to drive you around. I'm one hundred percent loyal."

John studied him for a moment, making Ferdinand squirm. The truth was, Ferdinand had told his mother about this new 'job' on a whim, hoping to impress her. Word had spread quickly through the neighborhood, and now he felt like he had to live up to the image. He had even pawned his gold and bought a high-end suit to make a good impression. But in reality, he looked more like a monkey dressed in human clothes.

Just when Ferdinand was about to lose his nerve, John said, "Keep your phone on twenty-four hours a day. The monthly salary is generous, and it includes food and accommodation."

Ferdinand was stunned, then overjoyed. "Okay, Mr. Wick!" he exclaimed, barely able to contain his excitement. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, even if it had cost him a pencil and a beating in Hell's Kitchen.

Trying to show off, Ferdinand asked, "What are we doing now, boss?"

John tossed him the car keys. "Drive this car. We're going to the Continental Hotel."

Ferdinand's eyes widened at the sight of the luxury car. He slid into the driver's seat with extreme caution, terrified of scratching it. John climbed in beside him and waved his hand over the seat. A black bag appeared in the back, making Ferdinand's jaw drop. Magic, he thought. I really am working for someone special.

The engine roared to life, and Ferdinand pulled out of the garage, adrenaline coursing through his veins. For a low-level gangster, this was a dream come true. He sped through the streets of Manhattan, feeling like he finally belonged in the world of the rich and powerful.

Unbeknownst to them, FBI agents watching the Wick house had spotted the car, registered to Watson Wick, and began tailing them through the city.

The black sports car pulled up in front of the Continental Hotel. John grabbed the bag and was about to head inside when Ferdinand jumped out, eager to help.

"Boss, let me carry that," Ferdinand insisted, but when he tried to lift the bag, he found it impossibly heavy. Embarrassed, he struggled, but John only watched with a bemused expression.

Finally, Ferdinand managed to hoist the bag and followed John inside, step by awkward step. They approached the familiar black-clad receptionist, who greeted John with a polite smile.

"Nice to see you again, sir. How can I help you?"

"I want to post a bounty, but I'm not very familiar with the process," John replied, returning the smile.

Ferdinand set the bag down with a thud that seemed to shake the entire counter. John picked it up effortlessly and placed it on the desk.

The receptionist's eyes widened at the sound of metal clinking inside. He knew immediately—there was gold in that bag, and a lot of it.

"We're not usually responsible for this, but…" the receptionist said, his smile never faltering, "the hotel is willing to help. Who is the target, and what is the amount?"

John placed his hand on the bag and smiled. "The leader of the Ten Rings Gang. The bounty is one hundred and twenty million in gold."

The receptionist's fingers trembled, and his professional smile nearly slipped. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Of course. The leader of the Ten Rings Gang. Twenty million as a deposit," John said, pushing the gold forward. "And I want every killer in the world to know about it."

The receptionist hesitated. "I'll need to ask the manager for approval. The Ten Rings Gang is no small matter."

John shrugged. "Do what you need. But I have a faster way." He grabbed the bag and shook it, spilling gold across the lobby floor. The sound was unmistakable—a siren call to every assassin in the building.

John raised his voice. "Here's the deposit for killing the leader of the Ten Rings Gang. Twenty million in gold."

He turned and walked away, stepping over the scattered gold as if it were dust. Around him, the eyes of every killer in the lobby gleamed with greed. Whether the hotel approved or not, the hunt had begun.

Ferdinand was still in shock as they drove away. He could not stop thinking about the mountain of gold they had just left behind.

John glanced out the window, watching as streaks of silver and red flashed overhead. Iron Man, pursued by a swarm of unmanned steel soldiers, raced across the New York skyline. The city was alive with chaos—tonight's expo had turned into a battlefield, with Ivan's Iron Soldiers hunting Tony Stark.

Ferdinand's jaw dropped as the armored suits roared past. "Iron Man! Oh my god, has he started mass production?"

John shook his head. "Those are not Tony's. He's being hunted."

He watched the direction Iron Man was flying and asked, "Where is that?"

Ferdinand peered out, trying to get his bearings. "New York Ecological Park, I think?"

John rubbed the ring on his right hand, deep in thought. "Let's go there."

Ferdinand nodded, gripping the wheel tightly as he sped toward the chaos, ready to follow John Wick into whatever came next.