On the private jet.
With dynamic music playing, Tony Stark and Air Force Major James Rhodes were enjoying drinks.
A steel pole slowly rose from the cabin floor, and flight attendants, dressed in cool attire, danced around it.
Despite the destination being a war-torn hell, the plane remained a scene of song and dance.
This was very much in line with Tony Stark's style—living for the moment.
Regardless of James Rhodes being stood up by Tony for three hours before they could depart, he was now, fueled by alcohol, rambling on to Tony on the plane…
Su Ming was currently on a flight back to Manhattan, listening to Old Obadiah's complaints:
"Tony, that scoundrel, I kindly arranged such a powerful bodyguard for him, and he actually doesn't need him! So stubborn!"
Watching Obadiah's performance, Su Ming's expression was playful:
"Keep acting! Keep acting…"
Obadiah quietly set his intercom channel with Su Ming to private and whispered:
"Mr. Destiny, it seems the bodyguard mission was my wishful thinking.
But it doesn't matter, next I will arrange for you to go to Afghanistan, and you can directly start the second mission."
As he spoke, a cold glint flashed in his eyes.
Su Ming was thoughtful:
"Okay, Mr. Employer. But I need to depart after a while. Also, I need to know where Mr. Stark is."
A trace of hesitation flashed in Obadiah's eyes; to ensure Tony Stark's demise, he had already contacted the Ten Rings Gang in Afghanistan.
But this was a highly confidential matter; how could the future chairman of Stark Industries have any dealings with Terrorists?
Calculating in his mind, he confidently said aloud:
"Regarding that, no problem, I will inform you of his whereabouts in a timely manner through the mission phone.
Also, for depriving Mr. Destiny of the bodyguard mission… I am very sorry.
I will give you 500,000 U.S. dollars as compensation."
Su Ming looked at the bald man in front of him with some surprise; every wrinkle on his face now conveyed sincerity, as if he truly regretted that Su Ming hadn't earned a million U.S. dollars.
"Look~ This is a capitalist—bold enough to bet when profit is at stake."
If it weren't for his own powerful abilities, and if it weren't for the purpose of killing Tony Stark, Obadiah would never be so solicitous.
Su Ming expressed his gratitude and happily accepted Obadiah's compensation, while also promising—to ensure the completion of the mission.
【+500,000 U.S. dollars, account balance: 551,380 U.S. dollars】
…
Walking on the streets of Manhattan, looking at the suit store with "High-End Customization" written on it.
Su Ming thought it was time to get himself a decent outfit.
While the formal suits were luxurious, they would likely be ruined in a fight.
After explaining his requirements to the Old Tailor in the store and getting measured, he turned and left the store.
The Old Tailor, looking through his reading glasses at Su Ming's departing back, murmured:
"How long has it been since I've seen such a perfectly proportioned physique? Sportswear would be a waste!
Can't do it at all…"
…
In a blink of an eye, the day of departure arrived. This was after Obadiah had urged Su Ming multiple times before Su Ming finally decided to depart.
"What's the rush? Tony won't be escaping anytime soon."
He's busy hand-crafting his armor ~
Su Ming first went to the underground exchange to retrieve the finished throwing knives.
50 titanium alloy throwing knives, gleaming with cold light, were neatly inserted into a magic knife sheath.
He casually drew one; it had a slight weight, was slightly longer than his finger, and its smooth blade reflected his face. In Su Ming's powerful vision, the tip of the blade was extremely sharp and flat, without any flaws.
He nodded in satisfaction, but he didn't plan to try throwing one immediately; it wouldn't be good to scare these craftsmen.
Under the craftsman's explanation, a hint of surprise flashed across Su Ming's face as he put on the magic knife sheath.
The design of the magic knife sheath was ingenious, conceived and designed more for practical combat. Su Ming could easily retrieve throwing knives from different angles.
The sheath contained a full 50 titanium alloy throwing knives, densely arranged, which not only formed a defense but also did not affect Su Ming's movement at all.
Even if there was an effect, it was only due to the heavier weight, but this weight was not a problem for Su Ming's enhanced body.
Su Ming rated it fast shipping, good quality, good looks, and great value, five-star review!
To be fair, at first, Su Ming thought that customizing throwing knives at the underground exchange was ridiculously expensive, and he must have encountered a black-hearted one.
But now it seemed that the high price had its reasons; the craftsmen indeed put a lot of effort into it.
Thinking of this, Su Ming began to look forward to whether his custom-made combat suit would be as eye-catching and irresistible as the throwing knives.
Not long after, Su Ming arrived in front of the Old Tailor at the suit store.
The Old Tailor now looked as if he had aged 10 years; his face was haggard, his eye sockets deeply sunken, and with two thick dark circles, he looked like a trainer from the Undercity.
When the Old Tailor saw Su Ming, he yelled:
"Wait one minute! Just one minute!"
Then he meticulously wielded a small hammer, working on something…
"A tailor not using scissors but a hammer?"
Su Ming was puzzled, but the Old Tailor's focused expression created an artisan's aura, which made Su Ming unable to utter his teasing words.
One minute later.
"Done! Haha~~"
The Old Tailor raised the item in his hand, excited like a child who had received a beloved toy.
Su Ming looked closely—it was a pure silver, cast-patterned half-face mask.
The exquisite patterns were carved by the Old Tailor, hammer by hammer, exuding an ancient and elegant beauty.
"This…"
Before Su Ming could speak, the Old Tailor shoved the mask into his hand.
Just as Su Ming was stunned, the Old Tailor took out a black box from the back studio and placed it on the workbench in front of Su Ming.
"Shhh!…"
Seeing that Su Ming was about to ask something, the Old Tailor put his finger to his lips:
"Less nonsense. Put it on and let me see! Hurry~"
His bloodshot eyes were full of anticipation.
Su Ming didn't know what was happening, so he just did as told—artisans always have strange temperaments!
Opening the box, what met his eyes was a blood-red fabric, and Su Ming was stunned.
"This is too different from what was agreed upon…"
Under the tailor's repeated urging, Su Ming put on the outfit.
"Good! Good! Hurry! Put on the mask! Put it on!"
As Su Ming gradually put on the clothes, the Old Tailor's eyes grew brighter and brighter, his thin arms trembling slightly with excitement, urging him loudly.
Looking at himself in the mirror, Su Ming had to admit—this Old Tailor, he had something!
Even he was thoroughly amazed!
A scarlet velvet-textured suit flowed with a liquid metal-like sheen under the bright lights.
The slim cut outlined sculpted lines, and the hand-sewn double-breasted amber buttons refracted a subtle glow, like medals on an ancient Roman warrior's breastplate.
Subtle dark patterns, outlined with golden threads, subtly appeared on the lapels, forming elegant vine-entwined totems.
The ivory-white silk shirt worn underneath had hand-embroidered nightingale feather embellishments on the collar, and the intentionally aged pleats at the collar stand added a touch of lazy nobility to the overall look.
The pure silver mask in his hand subtly echoed the low-key crocodile skin embossing on the side seams of the trousers.
This outfit was simply a relic of nobility from the Art Nouveau period.
The moment Su Ming put on the mask, his entire demeanor changed again—nobility infused with a hint of demonic charm.
As if the enchanting Lucifer, stepping on flames, was gracefully approaching from the depths of hell.
Most valuable of all, although it looked like a formal suit, it had astonishing elasticity and would not easily tear from vigorous movement.
The Old Tailor looked at the work before him—this was his most satisfying masterpiece in many years!
With a slight warmth in his eyes, the Old Tailor waved his hand at Su Ming, indicating he could leave.
When Su Ming wanted to pay, he heard the Old Tailor sigh without turning his head:
"Young man, thank you.
You gave me the opportunity to transform from a craftsman into an artist…
You may go…
Oh, and remember the name of this outfit
—Crimson."
Su Ming savored the Old Tailor's words, recalled his own codename, and murmured:
"Crimson Destiny, then…"