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Chapter 56: Tony – A Bad Hollywood Screenwriter
🕑 Added 2025-04-08 13:29:14 +0000 UTCIf Luo Chen were present, he would be utterly shocked by Tony Stark and Nick Fury's analysis. With just a few words, these two top-tier minds had pieced together a theory that came astonishingly close to the truth.
You could say they were within ten steps of it—if the full truth were a hundred steps away, they were already past ninety. But the last ten steps were critical.
They believed that the poor rely on mutation and the rich rely on technology—so logically, Luo Chen must rely on mutation too. But in reality, Luo Chen didn’t rely on mutation at all.
He relied on cheating.
And you can’t deduce cheating through logic alone.
This is why, despite their brilliance, Tony Stark and Nick Fury made critical errors. They were missing the most important piece of the puzzle.
“He has access to a level of information we can’t even begin to comprehend,” Tony Stark said seriously, his expression grim. “And that kind of advantage—an information edge—can push him unimaginably far in terms of personal power.”
Tony had always had a deep sense of crisis—sometimes bordering on paranoia. To him, Luo Chen might appear like an average, cheerful young man on the surface. A sunny outsider.
But what about the future?
What happens when someone like that obtains power far beyond any known standard?
And most importantly, they couldn’t stop him. Luo Chen’s growth was inevitable. With the opportunities he had access to, he could choose any path to power—any adventure, any artifact, any ability.
Take, for example, how he had, in just a few short months, acquired power equivalent to the pinnacle of human industrial wisdom—the Iron Monger’s tech.
It was clear: this guy would only keep growing stronger. And even if Luo Chen hadn’t yet shown any signs of instability or threat, just the possibility was enough to give Tony a massive headache.
“That is a problem,” Nick Fury agreed, nodding gravely.
The protection surrounding Luo Chen made S.H.I.E.L.D.’s long-term strategy of recruitment completely useless.
They couldn’t even approach him directly, let alone reveal the truth about the diary. All they could do was speculate from the shadows.
“But for now, he’s still a decent guy,” Tony said. “We still have a chance to influence him, make sure he doesn’t turn into a super-criminal.”
“After all, he’s already calling himself Superman, isn’t he? A street-level hero. That’s a positive sign. As long as we don’t interfere or push too hard, things might stay on track.”
“In any case,” Nick Fury said seriously, “we need to work together when it comes to him. If either of us gets new intel, we share it—especially considering the world is only going to get more terrifying.”
“Agreed,” Tony nodded. That was exactly what he had in mind. “Also… I’m starting to seriously consider your ‘super boy group’ idea.”
He realized now that going it alone might not work forever. The future promised chaos—dozens of super-criminals, rising powers, unexpected threats.
He had barely made it out alive in the fight against Obadiah. And no amount of genius or bravado would have saved him if Luo Chen hadn’t stepped in.
“Again,” Nick Fury interrupted, visibly exasperated, “not a ‘super boy group.’ It’s called the Avengers Initiative.”
Just then, J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice chimed in.
“Sir, I must inform you that Luo Chen’s diary has just updated.”
Tony’s brows furrowed, and Nick Fury said, “You don’t mind if I take a look too, right? I imagine our copies are identical.”
“Go ahead,” Tony said without hesitation.
Together, they turned to Tony’s diary and read the latest entry:
“The truth is—I am Iron Man.”
No one could have predicted how one sentence would open such a glorious era.
It began with that line, and it ends with that line.
Whether it’s the old generation retiring or the new generation rising,
That era… is finally over.
“He still holds you in high regard,” Nick Fury commented. “He believes your first declaration kicked off an entire age of heroes.”
“But that it also ends with that same line,” Tony said, lips curling into a half-smirk. “What a cliché. Can’t Hollywood screenwriters come up with a better ending?”
He scoffed. “Let me guess: a long, dramatic tracking shot. Me, old and gray, standing solemnly while saying, ‘I am Iron Man,’ before fading into the distance. The camera zooms out… symbolizing retirement. Then bam—cue the second generation of Iron Man. Or the third. Like those so-called successors Luo Chen mentioned in earlier entries. What a boring concept!”
