Hearing Su Ye's words, Helen Cho was instantly speechless.
'I'm charming? Uncle Su, are you joking?!'
'If I'm so charming, then why have you known me for so long and never tried anything with me?'
'If I'm so charming, why did you "bless" two Dragon Nation girls but never think of me?!'
'If I'm so charming, do I really need a freaking robot to prove it?!'
'Only a lunatic would fall in love with a robot, right?!'
'What's the damn point?!'
Su Ye shrugged noncommittally. "Anyway, Ultron definitely isn't here for me!"
Very soon, Helen Cho found out why Ultron had come to South Korea. It was indeed for her, but not because of her "charm"—rather, it was for her Regeneration Cradle.
With the Regeneration Cradle, Ultron could create a strong and powerful metallic body that closely resembled a human. At that point, it would no longer just be a program housed in a mechanical shell, but a true life form.
"The Regeneration Cradle… is actually this powerful?"
Helen Cho had never realized that her technology could actually create mechanical life. With this achievement, applying for a Nobel Prize in Biology shouldn't problem, right?
Wait, no—it involves mechanics, so should she apply for a Nobel Prize in Physics instead?
Helen Cho's mind suddenly became a bit muddled.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Ultron, who had infiltrated Helen Cho's lab with the help of its mechanical army, turned its head to look at Su Ye.
"Uncle Su, you're here too?"
Su Ye nodded. "I didn't expect you to come here either."
This was pure nonsense—Su Ye not only knew that Ultron was coming to South Korea, but he even knew exactly when Ultron lubricated its mechanical body.
Ultron's robotic face showed a subtle change in expression.
Its database came from J.A.R.V.I.S., which contained a lot of information that Tony had collected on Su Ye's abilities.
Of course, it wasn't a complete record—no one had ever truly witnessed the full extent of Su Ye's abilities. Many of the details in Tony's files were based on speculation and inference.
But even so, this data alone was enough to make Ultron take him extremely seriously.
According to its calculations, even if it successfully activated the body it was creating in the Regeneration Cradle, it would still struggle to gain an advantage over Su Ye.
After all, this was a super-powerful individual who could single-handedly take down the entire Great Wall Guardians—an invincible force.
This was how Tony Stark had defined Su Ye, and this definition had been imprinted in Ultron's database like a mathematical theorem.
Fortunately, Ultron 'knew' that Su Ye's ideals—or rather, the reason he had founded the Great Wall Guardians—were to maintain world peace and save as many suffering people as possible.
This was what was in Ultron's database. Whether it was true or not didn't matter.
As long as the whole world believed it, as long as the Great Wall Guardians believed it, that was enough.
So, based on Su Ye's 'ideals,' Ultron devised a special contingency plan.
"This place is very close to the Dragon Nation. Uncle Su, you wouldn't want this country to be destroyed here, would you?"
Ultron spoke with absolute confidence, but as it said this, it either failed to notice or deliberately ignored the nearby island that had already been reduced to wasteland.
Then again, even if he remembered, it didn't matter. This place wasn't "waste"... not yet.
As Ultron spoke, dozens of girl group members were still trembling in a corner of the laboratory.
Meanwhile, outside the lab, in the city center of South Korea's capital, a group of Iron Soldiers was performing flashy aerial maneuvers, almost like an air show.
At first, when the locals saw these Iron Soldiers, they were delighted. After all, seeing Iron Soldiers naturally reminded them of Iron Man—something that had become common knowledge worldwide.
The local citizens were no exception, and seeing these Iron Soldiers even gave them a natural sense of familiarity.
After all, given their country's relationship with the other side, even their leaders had to call the other nation's leaders "Daddy" when they met.
Calling them "Daddy" didn't guarantee they'd be taken along to get rich, but it did provide them with "protection"—the kind where they handed over their weapons, left themselves defenseless, and let the other side do whatever they pleased.
If that could even be called protection.
Of course, they could have said no to this arrangement. They could have chosen not to live this way, not to accept it.
But the thoughts of the ruling class often didn't align with those of the common people.
The ruling class sought to protect its vested interests.
The common people, on the other hand, just wanted to safeguard their livelihoods.
But no matter how much the people protested, it was ultimately the ruling class that controlled the narrative.
And in many places, the ruling class manipulated and guided public opinion to serve its own agenda.
So, when it came to reverence for their "Daddy," it wasn't just the ruling class—even the common people had long accepted it as a matter of course.
So, when they saw the Iron Soldiers, there was no hesitation—just kneel down and shout "666" in admiration!
But just as the citizens were cheering, thinking that "Daddy Tony" had sent Iron Soldiers for an acrobatic performance, the flying soldiers suddenly turned their weapons downward—as if someone had hacked their command system—and launched an indiscriminate attack on the crowd below.
Palm-mounted repulsors, shoulder-mounted machine guns, even mini-missiles—an array of weapons instantly rained down on the civilian district below, toppling entire buildings and leaving countless people sprawled on the ground.
In an instant, the city had turned into a living hell.
Screams of agony and explosions rang out in chaotic waves.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack! Mobilize the army immediately—prepare to resist!"
The military responded quickly, deploying the weapons they had purchased from "Daddy." But just as they were about to fire, every electronic control panel suddenly displayed an unfamiliar metallic face.
At the same time, Ultron's synthetic voice echoed.
"Pitiful ants, I'll be taking these weapons—thank you very much!"
As a powerful artificial lifeform, Ultron's consciousness broke through all of the military's firewalls in an instant, taking full control of their advanced weaponry.
These high-tech weapons, which they had purchased at exorbitant prices from "Daddy," had ultimately been taken back by "Daddy" himself.
When all of their electronic systems and weapons turned against them under Ultron's control and began an all-out bombardment of their own forces, both the military and the ruling class knew—they were doomed.
Even though they had mentally prepared for the worst when the wasteland formed, when this moment truly arrived, they still found it hard to accept.
"Call Daddy!"
Inside a government office, a high-ranking official picked up the phone, dialed a number, and quickly got connected.
"Daddy, we have a situation here—it's Iron Man!"
The high-ranking official concisely explained the current situation to the person on the other end, "Slick Joe," but all he got in return was silence.
After a full thirty seconds, Slick Joe finally let out a long sigh and asked in a trembling voice, "Who… are you?"
"Sir, this is XXX, your second son from the East!"
Someone on the other end whispered a reminder to Slick Joe, who then suddenly realized, "Oh, it's you! How have you been? Doing well? Married yet? Any kids? That's great, that's great. When your kids grow up, you should send them here to study. The environment here is nice. If they stay, they don't have to go back."
The high-ranking official on the line had to suppress his inner rage and repeated the situation once again.
This time, Slick Joe understood, but he was utterly baffled.
"Iron Man? Tony Stark? He didn't go to South Korea. He just sent someone to report to me earlier, asking me to grant him some access permissions. It's definitely not him!"
"Then who is it? You should know that Iron Man is someone who contributes to the world. Without him, we wouldn't have been able to reap profits so easily… cough! I mean, he's saved us a lot on military expenses. He's done great things for Beautiful America. I won't allow you to speak ill of him."
Slick Joe wasn't confused anymore.
Over the years, it was businessmen like Tony Stark—these so-called "humanitarian merchants"—who had flooded the world with arms sales. They gave people with radical ideas the means to turn those ideas into action, making the world a colorful and chaotic place rather than a monotonous utopia.
And thanks to their existence, Slick Joe's predecessors had been given countless opportunities to bare their fangs and flex their muscles globally.
So, for them, protecting people like Tony Stark was equivalent to protecting their own authority.
On the other side, the South Korean high-ranking officials were already losing their patience.
"Open your damn eyes and take a good look at what our country has become! Those flying Iron Soldiers have almost turned our nation into the wasteland next door, and you're still laughing this off?"
"You think I won't fly down this phone line and twist your damn head off like a soccer ball? Screw you, you old bastard, Aishiba!"
The official was furious. Their country was on the verge of destruction, and this diarrhea-mouthed fool still had the nerve to ramble on? Just because they called him "Daddy," did he really think he was their dad?
Believe it or not, we could reconcile with our brothers in the North right now and plant some nuclear "mushrooms" in your backyard!
Even though the distance between them and the other side spanned over ten thousand miles, their chubby Northern neighbor's nuclear warheads might not reach that far.
But they were close enough to Alaska!
And didn't they have several bases near this area? They had all the blueprints for those bases. Believe it or not, they could wipe them all out right now!
The high-ranking officials were seriously considering this option. Their country was almost gone—what was the point of saving face? Might as well tear everything apart!
Meanwhile, on the other end of the call, Slick Joe was also enraged after being bombarded with insults.
"Do you know who you're talking to?"
These words carried an imposing presence, filled with authority.
But the South Korean official just laughed.
"You're asking me who I'm talking to? You don't know? Is your dementia acting up? If you're sick, go see a doctor. Stop coming out to harm others, you old piece of trash!"
After saying that, the high-ranking official slammed the phone down. Still unsatisfied, he grabbed an ornament from the desk and hurled it at the window.
As he smashed it, he kept cursing, "Ah, shit! Ah, shit!"
After venting his anger, his personal phone suddenly rang. The caller was someone he never expected—a young, chubby man.
He answered the call, and the young chubby man's relaxed voice came through.
"Ahwen, I heard your house got robbed?"
Hearing this voice, the official became even angrier. "Shut up, you little punk! I'm only nine years younger than your dad, and you dare act all high and mighty with me?!"
Hearing the official's outburst, the young chubby man on the other end remained unfazed.
"Cut the nonsense. We hold the same position, so naturally, we should speak as equals. Calling me a little punk is a bit much—should I start calling you Old Dog Wen instead?"
The official took a deep breath and snorted, "If you have something to say, say it! If you have gas, fart it out already!"
"Oh, it's like this."
The young chubby man chuckled and spoke casually.
"Just now, one of our prototype little mushrooms suddenly went out of control and flew towards your place. You know me—I don't usually send out untested products. If it were some amateur firework, people would laugh at me, right?"
"But this time, it's like something possessed it—it just flew off on its own! I tried to stop it, but I couldn't!"
"But don't worry. Our mushroom bomb is only a prototype. Its power can only flatten one city, and its range? At best, it'll reach your capital."
"So, relax. Even if your capital gets wiped out, the rest of your vast territory won't be affected, right?"
"Oh, and after you all leave, we'll take good care of that land for you. We'll make sure it's well taken care of."
"You gotta trust me on this!"
"I trust your grandma's claws!" (An insult meaning "I don't believe you at all!")
The high-ranking official smashed another phone in frustration. Then, like a madman, he shouted at his subordinates.
"Get the cars ready! We're leaving! The Northern mushroom bomb is flying over!"
"These bastards! We told them not to mess with this thing, but they wouldn't listen! And now they've lost control, and it's flying toward us?! These motherf***ers! Ah, shit!"
"Yes, sir!" A subordinate escorted the official out while asking.
"Sir, what about the city?"
The official shook his head. "Can we even care about that now? Survival comes first! Who's going to care about the city at a time like this? Every man for himself! Ah, shit!"
As they were talking, a sudden explosion echoed from the distance.
They kept running but couldn't help glancing back. Suddenly, a bright white light shot into the sky. The Iron Soldiers in mid-air were instantly frozen and crashed to the ground with loud thuds.
"What is that?"
"I don't know… but it looks like a superhero!"