The capital of Morocco.

To be honest, this country with a population of tens of millions is on the edge of the world for most of its time, and not many people care about where its capital is, but what happened today has made the world's attention fall on this small North African country.

The presidential suite of Morocco's top hotel, Stark, who had a bruised nose and a swollen face, sat alone in the room alone, with his open collar revealing the strange patterns and scratched bruises on his chest eroded by palladium.

Opposite Stark, his steel suit stood, and the armor on the surface was almost completely destroyed, especially his arms and waist were cut out neatly deep scars. It is hard to imagine that this armor made of super titanium alloy and has super strong defense would be injured to such an extent.

Stark's bright eyes rarely lost his spirit. He did not suffer much damage from his attack today, but this incident had a much heavier blow to his mental level than the certain bruise on his body.

Today's enemies are not just technical imitations. Ark is the core of the steel suit, and the other party actually completely replicated the Ark reactor.

"I underestimate the world."

Stark leaned tiredly on the sofa. The lights in the room were very dark, and Stark's face was even worse. If he was still healthy, he would never be afraid of challenges. But the problem is that he has not been alive for a long time, at most two months.

Perhaps, I can only support him to celebrate his birthday again...

"I heard you... were beaten up today?"

The lights in the room suddenly became bright, and Soro walked in and sat next to Stark. He had a special ability to make the other party hate him in just one sentence.

Faced with this way of greeting that made people feel itchy, Stark turned his head coldly and snorted from his nostrils.

"Damn it, do you want to fight?"

Solo looked back at him, then tilted his head and said very seriously, "I have no interest in beating you now! Look at your distraught look, beating you? I have no sense of accomplishment at all."

This malicious answer made Stark snort coldly. He turned his face and ignored Solo who was smirking, but there was no doubt that the gloom in his heart had decreased a lot, and a complex look flashed across his face.

"Soro, a new enemy has appeared..."

He murmured to himself, "Although the craft is rough, he completely copied my technology, which is very terrible. Solo, if his technology is used, it is very likely that he will most likely create a very powerful empire of horror."

"Ha? It's all my business. If someone comes to provoke me, then punch back!"

Soro sat lazily next to him as if he was not concerned about his own affairs.

In fact, Soro and Stark are both smart people, so they can easily see what the consequences of this attack will bring.

At the military hearing two days ago, Stark played with many officials of the Ministry of Defense with an unscrupulous attitude, and then made a high-profile declaration to the media around the world, and bluntly stated that the technology of steel war suits is ahead of the technology of this era.

Iron Man will not be a threat, but will win precious peace for the whole world with powerful strength and Stark's selfless and risky spirit.

Stark's declaration that day was reported by major media, and just two days later, in the Moroccan car field, Stark was slapped in the face by a sudden whip rope.

Although the whip rope failed, he pulled Iron Man off the altar in a mess in front of people all over the world, letting the public know that Iron Man is not that powerful and will be injured or even die. In just a few minutes of the scene, Stark went from a hero of the whole nation and a favorite of the media to a target of criticism by all people.

"But I'm very interested in the guy who beat you up! It's a pity that I wasn't there at the time, so I could only watch you being beaten from the live broadcast. By the way, don't you want to talk to him?"

Soro went straight to the subject, and these words made Stark's mouth twitch, but the next moment, his expression immediately became subtle, he pondered for a moment,

"Yes! I want to meet him."

...

At this moment, Ivan Vanke, a single cell in the police station, was lying on the hard bed, squinting his eyes at the ceiling above his head.

He is tall and burly, with rough skin and dark red skin that is unique to Russians in extremely cold areas, with Orthodox tattoos on his body, wearing dirty ripped jeans, and exposing his upper body.

If you just look at the appearance, this guy holding a toothpick in his mouth looks like a Russian street-drinking violent person, and it really has nothing to do with physical scientists.

Although he was imprisoned and awaiting the trial of local laws in Morocco, Ivan did not look sad on his face. Instead, he was in a very good mood. The whistle in his mouth blew the unknown tunes on the streets of Russia.

"KaKa..."

The sound of the door of the cell sounded, and the door opened. Ivan Vanke sat up and saw a man in black walking in. He was not tall, but he was clean.

Short black hair and a very friendly smile on the face, but this eager smile with a hint of hypocrisy can easily remind people of some animals, "foxes" or "jaggies".

The man in black took out a few brand new bills from his arms with a cheerful look and handed them to the guard who brought him in. The latter kissed the bill enthusiastically, then grinned and showed a yellow teeth to the man in black, smiled humbly, owed his body and walked out, and closed the door.

"Mr. Ivan Anton, I am from Washington, and I'm here for you."

The man smiled slightly, speaking incredibly pure Russian. He stretched out his hand, Ivan looked at the palm of his neatly manicured nails, raised his hands above his head, and his face was indifferent.

This made the man in black a little embarrassed, but the embarrassment was fleeting, and his hand turned to the other side.

"So, let's go straight to the point! Mr. Anton, we have something to talk about."

Ivan did not refuse, but just sat on the bed with a meaningful smile on his face, looking at the man standing opposite him, and croaking at himself.

"I know that your father, physicist Mr. Anton Ivan, has been in trouble soon! And you personally have great resentment towards Iron Man! But unfortunately, your current situation obviously will not satisfy you."

"What do you want me to do?"

Ivan Anton held a toothpick in his mouth, then looked up at him, and asked in Russian, his squinting eyes slightly opened. Obviously, the other party had completely grasped his information.

"I came to see you on behalf of an organization. Fortunately, you were selected by the organization!"

The man in black became serious and serious.

"There is a "big man" who really likes your performance today. He thinks your knowledge and a lot of potential to be realized... That's a real big man..."

"And I am responsible for recruiting people. As for the big man, he comes from a place you dare not even think about, and you don't have to guess his identity. He asked me to tell you that he can meet any request you made."

Ivan Anton's interest was obviously raised. He tilted his head and said with a smile, "Oh? Then what do I need to do? Create a weapon for him to destroy the world?"

The man in black pursed his lips, he looked at Ivan Anton and said with a smile

"What the organization needs you to do has nothing to do with me, I am only responsible for recruiting people."

After saying that, the man in black took a deep breath, leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"Frankly, your presence surprised us very much. It was simply a gift from the Lord. You helped us. We provide you with the opportunity to defeat Stark directly. Isn't this what you want? Let the family that plagiarize your father's creativity pay a heavy price, and let him kneel before you and cry and repent."

"This is a fair deal, and you and I like this exchange, don't you?"

The man in black's voice is very sincere, which makes people feel unconsciously wanting to be convinced.

He smiled reservedly, and the man in black took a step back, looked around the empty cell, nodded, "Besides, your current situation also needs our help. According to Moroccan law, you may live in prison. You are ready to waste it like this, the talents and knowledge that your father has given you?"

Ivan's eyes trembled, and this touch of movement did not escape the eyes of the man in black. He whispered,

"You can't think of what kind of big shot you want you to send an invitation, but it doesn't matter. You just need to remember that he can meet any request you make, and luckily, you can just be paid."

He laughed, the man in black turned around and left casually. Before leaving, he turned his head and said to Ivan,

"First of all, as our sincerity, I will send someone to get you out of this ghost place!"

"By the way, the birds left by your father and the equipment you left in Russia, I have brought them for you..."

"If you have any other needs, I'm happy to serve you~"

The man in black bent slightly politely, and then he walked out of the prison door, and the sound of footsteps disappeared into the silent cell.
Chapter completed!