Chapter 32: Accepting the Interview

As one of the main protagonists in this battle, the white mech that had originally made its appearance at the Monaco Grand Prix and helped Iron Man subdue a terrorist was now, for reasons unknown, locked in combat with Iron Man himself. The reporters, burning with curiosity, had a thousand questions they longed to ask the people involved.

Since Tony was unwilling to answer, they had no choice but to turn to the other participant. Judging from the earlier fight, however, this man—who had just torn apart a fighter jet with his bare hands—did not seem the easiest person to approach. He looked downright terrifying…

Nevertheless, there are always those bold enough to defy danger. Sure enough, an intrepid reporter stepped forward to interview Luke.

“Excuse me, sir up in the sky, may I ask you a few questions?” a naive young female reporter called out, waving an amplifier at Luke hovering above.

Since the reporter was rather attractive, Luke decided to descend and accept the interview. With a flourish, the aerial combat mech landed gracefully, instantly attracting a swarm of reporters and cameras.

The female reporter quickly signaled to her cameraman to get ready, then beamed as she hurried over to Luke.

“Thank you for agreeing to the interview,” she said. “My name is Laura, I’m with the French News Network. First, let me just say—I personally think your robot is adorable.”

“Hello, Laura. Thank you for the compliment.”

“How should I address you?” she asked.

Looking straight into the camera, Luke replied with great solemnity, “I have borne many titles throughout my life.”

“Oh?”

“They have called me the Adventurer, the Frail Warrior, King of Can Openers… Later, they called me the Hope of Karnina, the Holy Guardian, the Undying King Borodin… And after that, everyone rallied behind me and honored me as the Conqueror of Antuen! The Immortal Monarch of Hebron! Protector of the Orcs! The Dragon’s Majesty! The Chosen One!”

Laura wiped the sweat from her forehead. “So, I should…”

“But those are all past glories, nothing worth mentioning. These days, you may simply call me the Apostle,” Luke said.

“…Alright, Mr. Apostle,” Laura replied. “Am I speaking to you directly, face-to-face? I mean, are you inside the suit, like Iron Man, or are you remotely controlling this robot?”

“Of course,” Luke said.

Laura waited for him to elaborate, but when he remained silent, she asked, “Of course… what?”

“Of course, that’s the next question,” Luke said.

Laura was at a loss for words…

“Very well… Do you have any personal grievances or misunderstandings with Iron Man?” she tried another question.

“No.”

“Then why did you two come into conflict here? Not long ago, at the Monaco track, you worked together to subdue a terrorist. Could you share what caused your falling out?”

This was a crucial question, not just for the reporters but for countless viewers around the world watching the broadcast. Online, debates raged, theories abounded, and all manner of speculation flourished.

Some said the white mech was just passing by and had never met Iron Man before. Others believed Iron Man and the white mech belonged to the same secret organization and were simply sparring. Still others claimed Tony had cuckolded the owner of the white mech, and the latter had come for revenge upon learning the truth. Given Tony’s reputation, this wasn’t entirely impossible. Quite a few online supported this theory…

Laura sensed she might be on the verge of a major scoop.

Luke’s answer was, “Because he can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Laura’s eyes lit up, and she thrust her microphone forward: “Oh? Could you elaborate?”

Luke’s next words were like a bombshell: “He touched my foot.”

Laura: “…”

“And he hugged me,” Luke added.

“…”

Nearby, Tony’s face turned a sickly green. Perhaps the palladium poisoning had worsened…

“I protest! He’s slandering me!” Tony said.

As Iron Man spoke up, all the cameras immediately swung in his direction.

Luke gave an indifferent snort and looked at Tony. “Are you going to deny that you touched my foot, or that you hugged me? Do you dare swear to the heavens you didn’t do either?”

“I… did not.”

Tony’s face was now as black as Nick Fury’s. Definitely a symptom of palladium poisoning…

Thinking back, Tony realized he had indeed done those things—he’d grabbed the mech’s foot and hugged it to pull it down.

But why describe it in such a sleazy way? Why use the word “touched”?!

“You see, Miss, even he admits it,” Luke said, shrugging his mech’s shoulders.

“I did not!”

“Did not what? Did not deny it, or did not touch my foot?”

“Would you stop using that word, OK?”

“Which word? Foot?”

“…”

Tony had never felt such an urge to punch someone. “You want to fight again? Huh? You still want to go?”

“Do you think I’m afraid of you? Who was the one who just got his lights punched out?”

“Got his lights punched out? Are you talking about yourself?”

“I’m talking about you.”

Laura covered her forehead. Were these two grown men or just big kids?

“Gentlemen! If you’re going to fight, at least let me finish the interview first,” she interjected.

Tony turned to the camera and announced, “I must clarify that my sexual orientation is perfectly normal. Everything this man is saying is baseless. In fact, I feel compelled to prove it.”

He gave Laura a righteous look. “Beautiful lady, I would like to sincerely invite you to join me for dinner tonight—and, of course, for whatever may follow after.”

Laura’s mouth fell open: “…”

Inside the mech, Luke nodded in approval—this French beauty was indeed quite stunning. Blonde hair, blue eyes, porcelain skin, elegant fashion sense. Tony certainly had an eye for women.

“A transnational invitation, and so brazen about it too. That’s so Tony,” Luke thought, somewhat admiring Tony’s style.

Laura’s face flushed red, then purple. She wanted to say: This is a live broadcast—couldn’t you have picked a better time to ask?

Deep down, Laura was quite pleased at the prospect of spending a beautiful night with the famous Tony Stark. What woman wouldn’t be?

Alas…

“I’m sorry, ahem. I think I should finish this interview first…”

Laura felt a little breathless and loosened her already loose collar, revealing a generous expanse of fair skin.

This wasn’t her first time dealing with troublesome interviewees like Tony and Luke. She was confident that her professionalism would see her through.

After regaining her composure, Laura continued, “Mr. Apostle, how do you explain the fact that you just shot down a French Air Force Rafale fighter jet?”

“Regrettably, in that situation, I had no choice but to act in self-defense,” Luke answered.

“Self-defense?”

“The fighter jet opened fire on me first, so I retaliated. I have a dashcam recording to prove it,” Luke said indignantly.

He was, in fact, referring to an actual dashcam he’d scavenged from a scrapped car.

“Could you share that with us? I mean, your evidence?” Laura asked.

Inwardly, she thought: Dashcam? What the heck? Is that a grammatical error?

“No problem. I’m sure that once everyone sees it, they’ll agree with me. I really was the victim here; my actions were purely in self-defense,” Luke asserted. “Furthermore, I strongly condemn the French Air Force for this unprofessional attempt at extortion!”

“Extortion? What does that mean?” Laura was utterly confused; she’d never heard this term before.

Back in the French news control room, the chief director barked, “Quick! Look up the meaning of ‘extortion by faking an accident!’ I want an answer in one minute!”