Chapter 150: Chapter 150

The Joker Organization was a raw scar in Tony’s heart.

Even Pepper didn’t dare mention the name around him.

The five dumbass robbers had already pissed Tony off, and now they had the balls to rub salt in his wound by flashing that joker card. A killing intent surged inside him.

His hand repulsors powered down, and he clenched his fists.

*Boom!*

A deafening roar as his boot thrusters erupted, launching him forward.

The robber holding the joker card gaped as a red iron fist grew larger, smashing toward his face.

*Crack!*

A sharp snap. The fist caved in his face, sending him flying over ten meters.

He hit the ground, blood pooling, twitching briefly before going still.

Tony held the punch pose, exhaling slowly, his rage fading halfway.

“Shit!”

Seeing their leader one-punched to death by this iron freak, the remaining robbers bolted for their SUV, swapping mags and firing as they ran.

Tony stood still, watching the four jokers’ pathetic show.

They were panicked, pissed, desperate to fight back, but against his absolute power, their efforts were fucking laughable.

For a moment, Tony thought of himself back then.

Maybe in Jason’s eyes, he’d looked just as pathetic.

But thanks to Jason, he was reborn.

This feeling of raw power, of holding life and death in his hands, was intoxicating as fuck.

*Screech!*

Tires burned rubber as the SUV peeled out, speeding away from this dangerous bastard.

Tony watched the taillights, his eyes cold as ice. His boot thrusters roared, launching him skyward.

The Iron Man suit carved a long arc through the dark sky before diving.

The driver floored it, risking a crash to reach a crowded area.

His logic: this iron-clad fucker wouldn’t want to expose himself to civilians. Get to people, and they’d live.

Smart thinking, but he didn’t account for one thing—Tony wasn’t letting them get far.

*Boom!*

The suit slammed down from the sky, shattering the suburban concrete road.

The driver jumped, heart pounding.

But when he looked, he locked eyes with the suit’s cold, glowing stare.

“Go to hell!”

Heart racing, he floored the gas.

The engine roared, and the SUV barreled toward Tony.

“Come on.”

Tony smirked, standing tall like he was pushing a door.

As the car nearly hit him, he leaned forward, slamming both hands onto the grille.

*Bang!*

The grille crumpled, but the two-ton SUV still pushed Tony back, sparks flying from the concrete.

“Jarvis, crank the power.”

Instantly, his boots blazed white-hot.

The added resistance slowed the SUV, finally stopping it dead.

But Tony wasn’t done.

He smashed one hand through the hood, gripping the engine, while the other slid under the chassis.

*Whoosh!*

His hand and boot thrusters roared, and Tony slowly lifted the SUV into the air.

“AH!!!”

The four inside, dangling face-down toward the ground, screamed in terror and despair.

Tony powered up again, flipping the SUV and slamming it roof-first into the ground.

*Boom!*

A cloud of dust billowed outward.

The roof crushed, doors warped, trapping the four inside.

“Help!”

“Save us!”

Locked in, upside-down, they had no escape.

Tony heard their cries but didn’t give a shit.

Killing scum like this didn’t spark an ounce of guilt—just a righteous thrill.

The SUV’s gas tank ruptured, fuel spilling onto the ground.

Tony raised his right hand, firing a repulsor blast.

*Boom!*

The gas ignited, flames racing to the tank.

Tony turned and walked away, unfazed.

*BOOM!*

The tank exploded behind him, the SUV erupting into a fireball.

Tony bent his knees and rocketed into the dark sky.

…

Minutes later, Tony piloted the suit back to his Malibu beach villa.

He landed precisely on the smart floor, robotic arms rising to strip off the armor.

Pepper walked in from the upstairs dining room, carrying a dinner tray.

Seeing Tony, her expression didn’t flicker.

She set the tray on the table, sat on a high stool, and asked routinely, “Playing vigilante again? Any wins?”

Tony strolled over, not bothering to wash his hands, and forked a piece of duck into his mouth.

After chewing, he sighed. “Yeah, I got an alert. Robbery at the southside warehouse.”

“Too late, though. A middle-aged couple got killed by Joker fanatics. I avenged them—wasted all five robbers.”

“Oh my God!” Pepper frowned, her face sad.

She closed her eyes, silently praying for the strangers. “Poor souls. May God bless them.”

“God’s useless,” Tony said, scarfing more duck and sipping wine. “I gotta speed up the suit’s development. I’m gonna rip the Joker Organization out by the roots and restore some goddamn order.”

Pepper nodded, watching him quietly.

As a witness to the Iron Man suit’s creation, she believed in Tony, convinced he could pull it off.

Dreaming of future victories, Tony’s mood lifted.

To lighten the vibe, he half-joked, “Maybe you should start drafting a speech.”

“What?” Pepper caught his drift, barely believing it.

Tony looked at her, serious. “Without you, I’d probably be a drunk, whining mess, sinking into the shit the tabloids say.”

“Luckily, you never gave up on me, always there, pushing me. The Iron Man suit’s got your fingerprints all over it.”

“Hmm… I’d say about seventeen percent of the credit.”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

The first half had her touched, thinking he might confess his feelings, and she was debating whether to say yes. Then that last line…

Heh, classic Tony.

Pepper faked anger. “Oh, I’m so great, huh? Seventeen percent credit?”

Tony scrambled. “Uh, maybe nineteen. But I’m definitely the bigger share. I worked harder, so I’ll take… thirty-one percent.”

Thirty-one percent?

Pepper, curious, asked, “And the other fifty percent?”

Tony’s face fell.

He sneered, pointing at the TV. “That’s on him.”

Pepper looked up. The screen was airing live news about Tony’s southside takedown.

“Thirty minutes ago, L.A. police got a call from a couple. But by the time the cops arrived, the middle-aged couple was dead, killed by robbers.”

The screen showed the couple in a pool of blood.

The anchor continued, “But someone took out the robbers. It may not align with federal or California law, but I want to say to that unknown person: Thank you. You’re a hero.”

The anchor bent down, picking up a joker card.

Looking worried, she said, “Police found this Joker Organization card at the scene.”

“No doubt, this is another violent crime by Joker fanatics.”

“This marks L.A.’s 276th Joker-related terror case this month. Their followers are growing, and police forces worldwide are stretched thin. If this continues, I don’t know what the future holds.”

“God bless America!”

After the broadcast, Tony and Pepper fell silent.

As predicted after Jason’s Times Square speech, global terror attacks had exploded.

Joker Organization followers spread like a virus worldwide.

In just half a year, thousands of criminals waved their flag.

They’d caused tens of thousands of violent crimes globally, from theft and brawls to murders, robberies, and even suicide bombings. The Joker’s fanatics were bloodthirsty and evil.

The “Joker virus” has infected most countries.

Every nation faced police shortages, fueling the virus’s spread.

Tony, silent for a moment, downed his wine and slammed the glass down. “I gotta move faster. Unless God smites Jason with a lightning bolt, the Iron Man suit’s the only weapon to stop him.”

Pepper nodded, then smiled, patting his shoulder. “I know the suit’s important, but you need rest. If I catch you pulling another all-nighter, I’m smashing the lab’s breaker box.”

Tony’s heart warmed. He patted her hand. “Thanks, I got it.”

Their eyes locked, sparks flying.

In the past half-year, their bond had grown.

They were one thin layer from a full-on confession.

Then Jarvis cut in, cold as ice. “Sir, incoming call…”

.

.

.

.

You can read advance Chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.

pat reon.com/GreenBlue17

500 power stones.

Top 50. All time.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep