Chapter 102: Chapter 102

Slipping into Stark Bank’s vault, flipping off the camera, and then blasting it to bits—this guy was clearly not one of Stark’s security men.

Anyone with half a brain could figure it out: this was one of Jason’s crew, maybe even Jason himself.

The realization hit, and the crowd outside the bank, along with viewers glued to their TVs and computers, lost their damn minds.

Jason Walter had actually shown up!

…

Tony, mid-flirt with his starlets, got the news fast.

When he heard that someone—likely Jason—had infiltrated his handpicked security team, slipped into his Iron Armor, and was now robbing his vault, his face turned purple with rage.

Seeing the mocking smirks on the starlets’ faces, Tony exploded. He stormed over to the security chief, grabbed him by the collar, and roared, “You fucking idiot! I told you Jason might use a disguise to sneak into the team. Why the hell didn’t you check them properly?”

The chief felt screwed. He had followed Stark’s orders, checking every single guard. The only explanation was that Jason’s disguise was just too damn good.

But Tony was pissed, and if the chief dared say that out loud, it’d be like pouring gas on a fire.

One wrong word, and by morning, he’d be cleaning out his desk.

The chief, a seasoned corporate survivor, knew how to play the game. He took the fall. “Mr. Stark, it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

Tony’s eyes were bloodshot, but he hadn’t lost his cool entirely.

He knew the screw-up wasn’t really the chief’s fault—or his own. Jason was just a sneaky son of a bitch.

More than Jason infiltrating the team, Tony was obsessed with his and the company’s reputation—and tomorrow’s headlines.

This fuck-up couldn’t be swept under the rug. The only way out was to pin the blame on someone, letting Tony and Stark Industries walk away clean.

Seeing the chief take the hit, Tony felt a grim satisfaction.

He shoved the chief to the ground, snarling, “Get the reserve forces and the military on this now. If Jason wants to die, I’ll fucking oblige him.”

“Yes, sir, I’m on it!” The chief scrambled up, practically crawling away to call Stark Industries HQ.

…

Inside the bank vault, Jason smashed the cameras and sprinted toward the mountain of cash.

The second his hand touched the bills, he opened the system interface.

[Points: 5,850]

[Available Points for Recharge: 100,000]

Jason: “Recharge!”

In a flash, the massive pile of cash vanished.

[Ding! Recharge successful. Remaining points: 105,850]

A billion dollars secured, Jason’s heart finally settled.

He opened the system shop to buy a superpower—one he’d already decided on.

[Ding! Spend 100,000 points to acquire ’Energy Absorption Level 1’?]

[Yes!]

[Ding! Purchase successful! Remaining points: 5,850.]

The next second, searing pain ripped through his body.

Jason collapsed, face contorted, lips pale, shaking uncontrollably.

In the microscopic world he couldn’t see, his genetic code was rewriting itself.

At the same time, the superpower’s functions and usage flooded his mind.

…

A long silence followed. No sound came from the vault.

The Iron Warriors waiting outside, guns ready, were getting antsy. Two of them crept forward to peek inside.

The massive vault was empty. The mountain of cash was gone, and the guy they thought was Jason lay motionless on the floor.

“Shit!” One of the scouts blurted, eyes wide.

“What’d you see?” The others demanded.

“The money—it’s gone!”

“What?!”

The men were floored, jaws on the floor.

The cash was gone, their mission was fucked, and the hundred-grand bonus Stark promised was probably toast.

“Where’s the guy?” Someone shouted.

“On the floor,” The scout replied. “No clue if he’s dead or alive.”

The news hit hard. This was beyond their comprehension.

“Now what? We can’t just stand here.”

“Should we go in and check?”

“Go in? That’s death!”

“Fucker, what’s there to fear? He’s dead.”

“What if he’s not? You saw his insane shooting earlier. He could mow us all down.”

…

The Iron Warriors bickered with no resolution. Finally, they split into two groups: one to check the vault, the other to hold the entrance.

The fearless ones were the minority—less than forty dared to enter.

They crept in, heads low, confirming Jason was still down before inching closer.

The vault was eerily quiet, save for the echo of metal clanking.

As they got closer, sweat beaded on their foreheads, their grips tightening on their machine guns—the only thing giving them any sense of security.

Thirty-odd warriors kept their guns trained on the “corpse.”

If anything moved, they’d turn him into Swiss cheese.

To their shock, the guy didn’t twitch.

They got right up to him, and still nothing.

Rewriting his genetic code and downloading a massive info dump was like a full reboot for Jason’s body and brain.

The warriors, convinced he was dead, called the others in and started inspecting the vault.

The so-called vault was a massive sealed metal box, made of the toughest alloy on the market.

For absolute security, Tony Stark had gone full psycho, building the vault’s six walls to a thickness of 120 centimeters.

A vault that solid wasn’t just for storing cash—it could double as a doomsday bunker.

The Iron Warriors were stumped.

A billion dollars in cash weighed dozens of tons.

No single person could move that.

Yet, somehow, in a matter of minutes, ten tons of cash had vanished from under the noses of a hundred-plus guards in a fortress-like vault.

Even the battle-hardened Iron Warriors were at a loss. This was beyond their pay grade. They called for backup.

Then, the guy they thought was dead—Jason—snapped his eyes open.

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