Chapter 84: The Military Order

Ever since Gwen arrived, Felicia had felt somewhat unnecessary. Yet she still walked in and said to Michael, “Boss, General Ross is here.”

Michael nodded, indicating he was already aware. He removed his lab coat, took off his gloves, and went out.

Upon entering the office, he found General Ross waiting impatiently. As a hawk within the Army, Ross had devoted his life to the super-soldier experiment. His son-in-law, Dr. Banner, was the project lead, but after Banner became the Hulk, he escaped. Now, with the advent of the Iron Suit, which seemed even more effective than super-soldiers, how could Ross possibly let it slip by? Seeing the Air Force already equipped with the Patriot, Ross was filled with envy, so he sought out Michael, the one capable of producing the Iron Suit.

“General Ross, good to see you,” Michael said, extending his hand politely.

Ross put aside his stern expression and responded with a smile. “Mr. Morbius, you’re younger than I imagined.”

“You flatter me. You’re quite young yourself,” Michael replied, unwilling to waste time on pleasantries and getting straight to the point. “You’re here about the Iron Suit, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’d like to discuss the possibility of cooperation.”

“Of course. I’d like to hear your terms.”

Michael seated himself behind his desk and took out paper and pen.

Ross deliberated for a moment and said, “I hope it can carry more large-scale destructive weapons, preferably ones effective against tanks and aircraft. Also, I’d like a discount if possible.”

Michael smiled. “What price are you hoping for?”

“Fifty million per unit. I’d like two hundred.”

Fifty million? Are you kidding me?

I charged Rhode two hundred million for a modification—and that was a friendly price. Now you’re offering fifty million. It reminds me of a certain dish—a load of nonsense.

“Fifty million? Without any weapons, only guaranteed flight, using battery modules, no reactor included.”

Ross chuckled. “The price is negotiable, but I want the best suit and the best weapons.”

Michael smiled. “General Ross, you know a single reactor costs over a hundred million. With your price, I really can’t afford to build it.”

In truth, the cost wasn’t that high—a missile’s components could suffice. The key was the technology: if you can’t make it yourself, I can charge whatever I want.

“Name your lowest price, and guarantee the supply of weapons.”

Michael pondered. He didn’t know Ross’s bottom line, but the man certainly had deep pockets. Fifty million was just posturing.

“Since you’re buying in bulk, two hundred and forty million per suit, no reactor provided. Weapons will focus on lasers and railguns, with micro armor-piercing rounds and Gatling guns. The suit uses my super batteries, each supplying two hours of operation. Additional battery packs will cost five hundred thousand apiece.”

“Is the reactor not for sale?” Ross frowned. He knew well that the reactor was the core of the suit—without it, there’s no suit.

“No, I must ensure the core technology doesn’t leak. Besides, my super batteries are extremely durable.”

Ross nodded. “All right, I accept. Let’s start with two hundred in the first batch.”

Michael frowned at Ross. Had he priced it too low? This guy wasn’t even flinching.

“Two hundred? Is General Ross planning to start World War Three?”

Ross smiled. “Impossible. In this world, true power lies in nuclear weapons; suits alone can’t overturn the existing order. I merely intend to sanction those terrorists who threaten other nations.”

Michael inwardly rolled his eyes. Who’s the real terrorist here?

“Pleasant cooperation.”

“Likewise.”

After signing the contract and paying the deposit, Michael watched as General Ross departed.

“May General Ross return triumphant.”

In fact, Michael had considered carefully before cooperating with Ross. He wasn’t Tony—he lacked powerful connections and Howard’s established network, which could smooth things over for Tony. Whether in reputation, wealth, or influence, Michael couldn’t compare. That’s why Ross sought him out.

So Michael decided to work with Ross. This way, he’d have ties to the military and avoid being sent to a military tribunal. Without obstacles from the military, Michael could save himself a lot of trouble.

Michael resolved to first design Ross’s order, then have the factory begin producing the external parts and internal skeletons. Two hundred suits—a massive undertaking.

He even made a video to teach workers how to assemble the skeleton and shell. As for the weapons, it was simple: use existing blueprints and let his arms factory manufacture them.

Michael exercised some cunning with the suits and batteries, adding anti-tampering devices to prevent technological leaks. He personally handled the final programming and weapon integration, skipping the paintwork altogether.

He produced external parts in gold, red, and blue, thus eliminating the painting step. For Ross’s batch, since the suits required battery installation on the back, there were no auxiliary wings or electromagnetic pulse devices. For speed and flight stability, he had to make them sleek and aerodynamically scientific.

After testing, Michael efficiently shipped them out.

He was just a businessman—making money, nothing to be ashamed of.

A month later, Michael received a call from Tony.

“Michael, why did you use gold and red on the suits you sold? Do you know how the media’s reporting it? They think I’m back in the arms business!”

Michael smiled. “Oh, my dear Tony, it’s an affirmation of your taste.”

“You’re framing me! Do you know what the Army is doing with those suits?”

Michael laughed. “Just playing judge in the chaos, what else?”

“Doesn’t your conscience hurt?”

Tony was shocked.

“Sorry, I’m not the one committing those atrocities.”

Michael continued, “Tony, you worry about weapons falling into terrorist hands, but have you considered that so-called ‘terrorists’ are defined by you, me, and America? Maybe, locally, they’re called rebels.”

“Tony, I know you’ve worked as a vigilante in the chaos, but I warn you—not all that’s legal is just.”

“And remember, that’s the Middle East. There’s no need to obey American laws and regulations. American intervention is just imposing its own ideology, and you’re doing the same.”

Tony pondered for a long time, finally realizing that perhaps he was no different from the American military—except he hadn’t targeted civilians.

Using Jarvis to hack the military’s system and reviewing international reports, Tony discovered America had been meddling repeatedly, often bombing innocent civilians under the guise of targeting terrorists.

Perhaps the suits weren’t the problem—it was the American military.

“Shit~”

Though aggrieved, Tony had no choice but to clarify that the weapons were produced by Angel International, not Stark Industries.