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A New Identity Every Week - Chapter 95: Showing Off! Iron Man Ain’t Worth a Damn?
🕑 Added 2025-10-16 14:42:50 +0000 UTCThe Bugatti sped down the highway.
Along the way, countless pedestrians turned their heads—after all, for most people, spotting a top-tier luxury car like this was a once-in-a-lifetime sight.
More than half an hour later, Herman saw Tony Stark’s circular villa in the distance.
It sprawled across an entire mountainside.
As soon as he pulled the Bugatti up to the villa, Herman spotted Tony Stark by the outdoor pool. Wearing his Iron Man armor, Stark was performing a stunt—trying to shove ten doughnuts into his mouth at once—for the young models. They laughed with delight, though Pepper Potts’ expression was far less amused.
“I can still eat even more in one go!” Stark reveled in the applause, looking smug beyond measure. “Because I’m Iron Man! The one and only Iron Man in the world! No one can take my armor from me!”
It was obvious he had been drinking heavily. His words were already starting to slur, perfectly showcasing how outrageous a self-indulgent billionaire could be.
Around the massive pool, extravagant decorations had turned the place into a scene of excess that could bankrupt even the elite.
Loud music boomed from the villa, carried throughout the mountaintop estate by Jarvis’s audio system. Neon lights flashed inside, and Herman could vaguely make out men and women swaying to the rhythm.
Waiters in spotless white suits—clearly professionals—pushed carts among the guests. Beyond the abundance of models, many of Stark’s so-called “friends” were present as well—businessmen who made their living off Stark Industries.
Of course, his closest friend, Air Force Colonel Rhodes, was there too. The seemingly frail officer, one of the few in the military still holding onto a conscience, stood beside Pepper, both watching Stark’s antics with complicated expressions.
“Iron Man! Iron Man!”
The models around him screamed in excitement, chanting his other name. They didn’t care in the slightest whether his behavior was ridiculous. Each one of them only wanted a chance to climb into Stark’s bed tonight—it would be their shortcut to skyrocketing in value.
“Look at me! See how popular I am!”
Stark raised a bottle of liquor and chugged it greedily. His bleary eyes swept over the crowd. Every model’s face was lit with adoration, which pleased him immensely.
“I’m nothing special... I just protected the whole nation.”
His tone carried not a hint of humility. Suddenly, his voice rose with exaggerated emphasis.
“Or maybe I protected all of humanity—who’s to say?”
Stark had clearly not yet grown into a true superhero. His biggest flaw was still glaring—his arrogance.
“Iron Man, I love you!”
“You’re so damn cool!”
The models and the so-called “business partners” eagerly showered him with praise, which only fed his ego further.
The roar of the crowd made Stark’s smug expression grow even prouder. This was exactly what he wanted—adoration, worship, the center of attention.
Wealthy, handsome, charismatic—Tony Stark had always believed himself to be the protagonist of a real-life power fantasy.
But then came Afghanistan.
Only then did Stark face a brutal truth—he was just an ordinary man, luckier than most.
“Bullshit protagonist!”
Stark closed his eyes, basking in the spotlight. Deep down, he knew his days of living like this were numbered.
The palladium poisoning continued eating away at him, and drinking chlorophyll did nothing to stop his body’s decline.
Take off the Iron Man armor?
He had tried, but couldn’t. The sheer panic crushed him with a suffocating sense of death closing in.
“Anyone want to see how Iron Man takes a piss?”
Tony Stark let loose with reckless abandon. The moment the words left his mouth, a chorus of whistles erupted from the young models. He began showing off his tech, demonstrating how advanced the Iron Man suit’s filtration system was.
“It can even recycle directly.”
Stark then drank the filtered urine and even gave it a “pretty good taste” review.
The models and the surrounding elites screamed in shock and amusement.
Not far away, Pepper and Rhodes stood watching, both wearing expressions of helpless resignation.
“How long has he been like this?”
Suddenly, a curious voice sounded beside them. Without either of them noticing, Herman had already parked and walked over.
“Herman Chu,” Pepper greeted in surprise. She had heard before that he preferred people to use his Chinese name.
“I’m truly sorry you had to see Tony like this... He wasn’t always this absurd. Well, though I thought he was already outrageous enough before.”
Pepper was worried Herman, as a major shareholder of Stark Industries, might be disappointed. She tried her best to salvage Tony’s image in front of him.
“I can vouch for it—he wasn’t this crazy before.”
Rhodes raised his hand as if swearing an oath. Though a mid-level Air Force officer, even he looked somewhat restrained in front of Herman, the tycoon who held America’s lifeblood in his hands.
“Ever since returning from Afghanistan, Tony’s been getting more and more reckless, like he’s trying to make up for all the indulgence he missed out on before.”
Rhodes clearly wasn’t happy about his friend’s downward spiral.
“Natasha, bring us some drinks!” Pepper called out to someone nearby, not wanting Herman to feel neglected.
“Natasha?”
Herman looked over in surprise. He hadn’t expected to see an old acquaintance... Black Widow. She was dressed in a black silk secretary outfit.
“Long time no see, director.”
Natasha approached calmly, carrying a tray of drinks. She handed a glass each to Pepper, Rhodes, and Herman.
“If I remember right, aren’t you Hollywood’s rising star—the next big thing?”
Herman hadn’t expected Natasha to be undercover in Stark Industries. He teased her lightly, addressing the woman who looked no different from her usual ageless self.
His relationship with S.H.I.E.L.D. had already reached a point of open confrontation, so there was no need for him to pretend he hadn’t noticed anything.
“Acting seems to have no future. I feel this secretary job will challenge me more,” Natasha replied with perfect composure.
“You two know each other?”
Pepper looked startled. She glanced at Natasha, then gave Herman a strange look—as if assuming he was just like Tony Stark, a womanizing playboy. Clearly, she misunderstood the nature of their relationship.
“Didn’t you know she acted in my TV series?”
Herman raised an eyebrow at Pepper. It wasn’t vanity—The Boys had become a phenomenon in the U.S.
“Uh, I did know Natasha used to be an actress. In fact, that’s how she... beat out her rival.”
“But I really didn’t know she starred in your show.”
“I haven’t had much rest lately, so I haven’t been keeping up with TV. Sorry, Stark Industries has been in too much chaos recently.”
Pepper gave an embarrassed little smile.
“I’ve seen it!”
Rhodes raised his hand. “So now when I see you, I just want to run away. I don’t need to experience how God loves the world.”
“...”
What a War Machine-style dry joke.
“...”
Herman didn’t know what to say either.
At that moment, Natasha stepped in to ease the tension.
“Do you want to talk to Tony Stark? He’s not in the best state right now.” She gave Herman a subtle hint.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was well aware of Tony Stark’s condition, but they had no real solution. Their experts were still studying palladium poisoning, with no telling when they might find an answer.
So S.H.I.E.L.D. had no choice but to pin their hopes on Herman. After all, the world’s largest biotech corporation, Umbrella Biotechnology, had always been one of his enterprises. When it came to biological and pharmaceutical research, the top scientists in the world worked under Umbrella.
“Of course I’ll talk to him.” Herman knew Tony’s current state—a self-destructive spiral born from despair. He still held high expectations for Tony Stark and could never just watch him die.
With that reply to Natasha, Herman walked toward Stark.
At the time, the playboy was putting on a show for a young model—using the Iron Man suit to rip a streetlight out of the ground beside the villa with one hand.
“See that? Can you find anyone stronger than me?” Stark boasted triumphantly, flaunting his strength to the models.
“You mean this kind of strength?”
Suddenly, a voice rang out, laced with challenge, completely out of place with the atmosphere. It made Stark instinctively frown.
“If you want to compare strength, you’ve picked the wrong opponent!” Stark was ready to teach a lesson to whoever dared try stealing his spotlight.
But the moment he turned his head, he froze. Just like the models, he was utterly stunned.
“Fuck!”
The curse slipped out before Stark could stop himself. It wasn’t that he couldn’t control his mouth—it was just that the sight before him was too much of a visual shock.
