The moment he saw Happy, a plan immediately formed in Roger’s mind.
Leaning close, he whispered into Happy’s ear,
“Listen, Happy! I need your help! The military definitely won’t let me accompany tomorrow’s weapons demonstration. But I have a bad feeling about it. I need you to get me a full set of protective gear. I’ll follow the convoy in secret and set up a second layer of protection.”
The instant Happy heard Roger’s plan, his inner actor awakened.
Such a perfect chance to prove himself—did this mean he might finally have a chance too…?
Seeing the misunderstanding on Happy’s face, Roger immediately frowned.
“No! You can’t. You’re way too conspicuous.”
Happy instantly looked crestfallen, making Roger chuckle.
This wasn’t some easy errand.
People would be shooting to kill tomorrow.
Why was this big guy so eager?
“Don’t worry, Happy. Help me this once, and I’ll talk to Tony about getting you the position of Head of Stark Security.”
Roger patted Happy on the shoulder encouragingly.
Happy was instantly fired up.
“Yes, sir! Happy will get it done!”
He grabbed the suitcases and hurried off, kicking up clouds of dust behind him.
Roger looked up at the blazing sun overhead.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps between his fingers and fell across his face.
The dazzling white light resembled the war that was about to arrive—fierce and dangerous.
Why did I come to this world?
To change the future filled with regret…
Or am I merely part of some game created by a god sitting high above, for their own amusement?
…
The next morning.
Roger and Happy watched Tony Stark’s convoy drive away.
The long line of vehicles kicked up endless clouds of yellow sand, stretching across the desert like a solitary plume of smoke.
“Okay then, Happy! Let me see what amazing stuff you’ve prepared for me.”
Roger clapped his hands together and smiled expectantly.
Happy gave him a mysterious grin before walking to the entrance of a warehouse.
With a loud clatter, he pulled the door open.
Inside, countless pieces of equipment gleamed with metallic brilliance.
The instant Roger saw the arsenal, he instinctively wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth before giving Happy a big thumbs-up.
…
Amid the endless yellow sands, a convoy of more than a dozen jeeps formed a long line, stopping in a remote, uninhabited region.
Several kilometers away, atop a hill, Roger hovered more than ten meters above the ground, scanning the surrounding area through a pair of binoculars.
He was now dressed in specially reinforced body armor, a ballistic helmet, bulletproof tactical pants, military goggles, and several thin titanium alloy plates concealed beneath his sleeves and pant legs.
With this loadout, as long as he stayed outside a missile’s blast radius, he was practically a walking light tank.
The weapons Happy had acquired for him were even more outrageous.
A Barrett anti-materiel rifle.
Two Desert Eagles.
Four Uzi submachine guns.
Six AK-47s.
Eight shoulder-fired rockets.
And a pile of high-explosive grenades.
As the saying goes:
The poor rely on tactics.
The rich carpet-bomb the battlefield.
As someone backed by Marvel’s wealthiest benefactor, Roger had painfully transferred one million dollars from Tony’s bank account to purchase all this equipment from the military base.
Combined with the composite bow Roger already carried, he now possessed enough firepower to blow Tony’s entire escort convoy to pieces.
Of course, Roger wasn’t here to wipe out his own allies.
Fortunately, all these weapons had originally been manufactured and sold by Stark Industries to this very base.
Otherwise, even Happy wouldn’t have had the authority to obtain them.
Suddenly—
A deafening explosion shook the heavens.
The terrifying blast wave spread like a tidal wave, flipping the airborne Roger over several times.
After finally stabilizing himself, Roger spat out a mouthful of sand and coughed repeatedly.
“Ptui, ptui, ptui! Damn… the Jericho missile is completely insane.”
Roger’s previous world also possessed MIRV technology, but something like the Jericho missile, capable of splitting into dozens of warheads, was something only Stark Industries could create.
Tony’s tragedy had begun because of the Jericho missile.
And Iron Man himself had been born because of it.
Without the palladium contained in those missiles, there was no guarantee Tony Stark would even have survived long enough to finish building the Mark I armor.
Though watching him escape carrying a giant car battery would definitely have been hilarious.
The convoy, having completed the demonstration, kicked up another trail of sand as it began its return trip.
The exciting battle was about to begin.
Roger quickly accelerated, flying above the convoy while searching the skies for any incoming threats.
Boom!
An explosion erupted below.
One of the jeeps was blasted several meters into the air.
The Ten Rings’ ambush had begun.
Roger paid no attention to the fighting beneath him.
As long as nothing unexpected interfered, Tony Stark’s protagonist luck guaranteed he’d survive this attack.
Roger was here to prevent the unexpected.
Through his binoculars, he suddenly spotted a portal opening about one kilometer away.
A black figure shot out of the portal at incredible speed, charging directly toward the battlefield.
[Friendly Reminder! After completing your first Real Exploration, Parallel Universe No. 12580 has begun intersecting with other universes within the Multiverse.]
[When two parallel universes intersect, characters from the other universe may randomly obtain information about this universe and invade it. Allowing them to spread chaos will lead to unpredictable consequences.]
[As a candidate nurtured by the gods, you are obligated to eliminate these invaders and ensure a safe environment for your own development.]
Listening to the system notification in his mind, Roger’s lips slowly curled upward.
His heart filled with both excitement and fear.
“It’s here… it’s really here!”
“I knew it!”
“There really are going to be invaders! Hahaha!”
Roger pulled out the massive sniper rifle, narrowed his left eye, took aim—
And squeezed the trigger.
BANG!
The tremendous recoil sent Roger tumbling through the air several times.
Yet he didn’t feel dizzy at all.
He stomped downward.
A burst of white vapor exploded beneath his feet.
Roger shot forward like a newly launched Jericho missile, trailing rings of white smoke as he charged straight toward the incoming Killmonger.
Meanwhile, Killmonger—Erik—heard the deafening gunshot.
A lethal sense of danger instantly enveloped him.
At the last possible moment, he threw himself sideways, rolling over a dozen times before finally stopping.
Looking up, he saw that the spot he’d occupied only moments before had become a massive crater.
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
He had brushed shoulders with death.
He had survived by pure luck.
Boom!
Roger slammed into the ground, sending sand flying everywhere and obscuring his figure.
“This isn’t a place you should have come to, Erik.”
The moment those words were spoken, Killmonger was visibly shocked.
Not only did the other man know his name…
He had literally fallen from the sky.
Just how monstrous was his body?
His thoughts immediately jumped to the anti-materiel rifle shot from moments ago.
Could… that have been fired by this guy too?
Taking several deep breaths to steady himself, Erik slowly stood.
“Who are you?”
“Why do you know my name?”
“And why are you trying to stop me from rescuing Tony Stark?”