LIGHTNOVELONLINE 32: You are more powerful this time
"Jarvis, play some music~"
"Sure Master Lyon," and with that 'Back in Black' started playing in the air.
The silver armor and the army-green missile seemed to merge into one.
They accelerated together, momentarily distancing themselves from the other missiles, tracing a massive arc in the sky.
♫Back in blackI hit the sackI've been too long, I'm glad to be backYes, I'm let looseFrom the noose.....♪♫
By this point, the other missiles had already begun to lose tracking precision, scattering in different directions rather than swarming after Lyon like a hive.
This was also a sign that the missiles were about to explode.
♪'Cause it's gettin' me highForget the hearse 'cause I never dieI got nine livesCat's eyes....♫
Lyon mentally calculated the time, releasing his grip on the armor at the precise moment and distancing himself from the side of the missile he had taken control of.
"Three, two, one, boom!~"
With a swift acceleration, Lyon finished the countdown, and right on cue, an ear-splitting explosion erupted behind him.
Boom! Boom! BooOOOoom!
Several missiles collided with the side of the missile Lyon had controlled, causing a premature detonation.
♫'Cause I'm backYes, I'm backWell, I'm backYes, I'm back...♪♫
The violent shockwave rippled through the air, triggering the remaining scattered missiles to explode as well.
The explosion's fiery glow instantly spread across the sky above the West Coast mountain range, covering nearly a kilometer in thick, rolling smoke.
The fighter pilots in the squadron stared in astonishment, unable to comprehend how the armor could so effortlessly evade the missile pursuit.
But they didn't have much time to be stunned.
Even the strong winds at high altitudes couldn't quickly disperse the thick smoke from the simultaneous explosion of dozens of missiles.
The entire fighter squadron had no time to react and plunged into the pitch-black smoke.
"Target lost, repeat, target lost!" the captain reported.
"Quickly break through the obstructed area and continue the pursuit. Do not let the target escape!" came the order from command.
However, Lyon did not take the opportunity to flee. Instead, he turned and flew directly into the explosion's aftermath.
"♪Hmm~ Humm~ hm! Ha hm hmm~ Now~ Based on the enemy's flight direction and speed, simulate their flight trajectory for me, Jarvis," Lyon ordered.
The projection on the face of his armor flashed, and immediately, several dozen trajectories were simulated in the smoky image.
Lyon, meanwhile, mentally calculated the estimated time and speed, then accelerated into the smoke.
He quickly closed in on one of the predicted paths.
"Prepare to change course, Jarvis!" Lyon called out.
Just as he finished speaking, a fighter jet suddenly emerged from the thick black smoke right in front of him.
Seeing that a collision was imminent, Lyon's armor performed a sharp deceleration and veered upward to avoid it.
The pilot inside the fighter jet widened his eyes in shock but quickly reacted, pulling up the plane while simultaneously pressing one of the hundreds of control buttons in the cockpit, opening the weapons bay and firing the machine guns.
"Target sighted by Unit Thirteen! Repeat, Unit Thirteen has eyes on the target!" the pilot reported.
"Attack! Attack!" the captain ordered.
Unit Thirteen closely pursued Lyon, firing several bursts of bullets that struck the Mark II armor, causing Lyon to stagger mid-air.
This made the pilot of Unit Thirteen even more excited. He pushed the throttle to the maximum, chasing Lyon at full speed.
Suddenly, the Mark II turned again.
The pilot hesitated for a moment, just about to follow, when another fighter jet suddenly emerged from the black smoke ahead.
"Fuck!" The pilot quickly pulled up the aircraft, but it was too late.
The two planes collided, their bottoms and tops scraping against each other. The high-speed friction immediately destroyed a large portion of both aircraft.
One fighter burst into flames, spewing black smoke, with its engine systems and exhaust systems critically damaged, rendering it unable to continue flying.
The pilot of Unit Thirteen, now out of options, pushed the control stick downward, allowing the plane to descend before pulling the ejection lever, launching himself out of the cockpit.
"Unit Thirteen has crashed! Pilot has ejected!" came the report.
However, the other fighter, caught in this unfortunate incident, fared even worse.
The fighter jet's glass cockpit was shattered in the collision, and the pilot immediately lost consciousness.
Fortunately, Lyon noticed something was wrong. "Hmm?"
He turned back, pulled the unconscious pilot out of the cockpit, and prevented him from crashing along with the fighter jet.
On the other side, the pilot of Unit Thirteen realized something was amiss. While descending in his parachute, he looked down and saw two planes falling at the same time. But there was no damage report from the seventh unit in his communication feed. Panicked, he called for help.
"Unit Seven and I collided! Both planes are going down! Unit Seven has no signal! Possibly under enemy attack! Requesting assistance! Mayday! Mayday!"
The enthusiasm with which he had shouted "attack" earlier was now matched by the intensity with which he screamed "Mayday."
Soon, Lyon heard the sound of the remaining fighter jets diving down through the clouds, clearly rushing to the rescue.
He wore a peculiar expression.
"Looks like this little show is over, huh?"
Looking down at the unconscious pilot he was holding, Lyon kindly pulled the man's parachute open before heading off toward Los Angeles.
"Good luck, buddy."
The fighter jet squadron was busy with the rescue, and although the command center saw the Mark II departing via satellite, they knew it was too late to pursue. All they could do was slam their fists on the table in frustration.
"Damn it! They got away!" General Ross fumed in helpless rage. "Send out more air squadrons!"
"It's too late, General," Rhodey bluntly analyzed from the side. "Judging by the speed the target displayed multiple times, there's no way we can catch up now."
"Fuck!"
…
On the other side, Lyon reunited with Tony.
The two flew back together to the beachside villa.
Given the size and speed of their Mark suits, as long as they weren't caught on satellite cameras, no one could trace them back home. And with Jarvis monitoring the satellites, they flew quite leisurely.
"I didn't use any weapons, right? Just like you requested—no direct conflict and no casualties," Lyon said. "Keke~ But, after seeing my moves, don't you feel like you've been taught a lesson?"
He emphasized asking Tony how he felt.
After all, this whole trip was about showing off in front of Tony—a plan he'd been brewing for a long time.
However, he was also considerate of Tony's position.
—At the end of the day, Tony still had strong ties with many in the military, and there was a good chance he'd publicly reveal his identity as Iron Man soon.
"So, to avoid causing any fallout between you and the military, I made sure to follow your orders the entire time—no proactive attacks. In the end, I even saved a pilot."
"…Alright," Tony was at a loss for words for a moment, as he was genuinely impressed.
Jarvis had been transmitting live footage of the Mark II suit to him earlier.
The precision with which Lyon controlled his speed, timing, and direction was something Tony couldn't match at this stage.
Tony hadn't even considered that combat in the suit could be as fluid and agile as Lyon had just demonstrated.
After all, he'd only recently gotten the hang of flying the suit and hadn't had much practice yet. But seeing Lyon maneuver like that made him think that was exactly how the Mark armor should be piloted—it was undeniably cool.
Of course, Tony couldn't admit defeat out loud.
"You must have used your own powers just now, right? That has to be it," Tony stubbornly insisted, trying to convince himself.
"Absolutely not. Jarvis monitors everything inside the Mark II. He can vouch for me," Lyon presented his evidence.
Jarvis immediately backed him up, "Indeed, sir. Master Lyon used only the suit's controls during that time. All the data was perfectly normal."
Tony knew this was true, but he was just being stubborn.
"But you did shoot down two jets without resolving things peacefully, so that's not entirely great," Tony said, trying to be critical.
"Heheh, now don't nag like a old lady." Lyon laughed, teasing Tony, "I didn't use any weapons or attack first. If they crashed by mistake, how is that my fault? Tony, you're not this strict with yourself."
"Alright, alright, my dear Lyon. Since you prepared dinner for me, I'll admit you were more impressive this time," Tony said, raising his hands in surrender.
"Thank you for the compliment! As long as you keep working hard, Tony, you'll be as excellent as me one day," Lyon said with a smug grin.
"But... what dinner are you talking about?" Lyon asked, confused.
Tony looked shocked. "Don't tell me you didn't prepare dinner like yesterday. I'm so hungry I could eat all the cheeseburgers in Los Angeles right now."
"In fact, I didn't cook anything. I went straight from my strength test to saving our big soldier Tony. No time to make dinner," Lyon replied, giving Tony an answer he dreaded.
"Then let's order takeout," Tony suggested.
"Agreed. And while we wait, maybe you could use the time to call Rhodey and let him know that the Iron Man causing all that chaos for the military today was you."
"Why would I tell him that?" Tony asked, bewildered. "That would expose my identity!"
"With your flashy behavior, you'll get exposed sooner or later. You might as well give Rhodey a heads-up so he can be mentally prepared and cover for you," Lyon said.
"Oh! That actually makes some sense. Lyon, since when did you become so savvy? Did you learn that from playing mind games with girls in school?" Tony teased.
"No, I learned it from stopping you from bringing strange women home when we were kids!"
"Then you really should be thanking me..."
Their playful banter gradually faded away with the wind.
Under the orange sunset, the ocean rippled like autumn maple leaves, and in the reflection, three suits of armor flew together towards Stark's mansion.
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