Chapter 71: Is That You, Pikachu?

Luke had Christina scan the area and found that all the soldiers descending from the sky were ordinary Iron Soldiers. Whiplash had not arrived yet.

Evidently, Whiplash was remotely controlling an Iron Soldier and speaking to him from afar. What Whiplash said answered Luke’s earlier doubts: why were there now at least twice as many Iron Soldiers as the thirty-some shown in the movie?

This, he realized, was the butterfly effect. His appearance—showing up in Monaco last time and knocking Whiplash out with a single punch—had prompted Whiplash to prepare more Iron Soldiers in advance, clearly accounting for his presence.

Understanding this, Luke snorted disdainfully. Whiplash was merely the main villain of the Iron Man 2 arc, not someone he took seriously. His ambitions reached for the stars and the sea!

“I’m a man preparing to face Thanos head-on! Threaten me?”

Lying in the cockpit of his mech, Luke flexed his fingers, pondering which method to use to teach this opponent a lesson.

War Machine, Rhodey, had regained his freedom and control of his suit. Now, he stood back-to-back with Tony, vigilant amidst the swarm of Iron Soldiers.

“Is that your friend?” Rhodey asked, referring to Luke.

“I don’t know him,” Tony replied flatly.

“He’s the Apostle? Why is he so much bigger than last time?”

“If you’re interested, you can ask him yourself,” Tony grunted, “but be careful—he’s tricky.”

“Tricky?”

“This guy has no limits, loves pranks, and is an expert at profiting at others’ expense,” Tony said bluntly.

“And you say you don’t know him?”

“I don’t know him.”

“Looks like we’re in for a tough fight,” Rhodey remarked, glancing at their surroundings.

Tony fell silent. He was still curious about what weapon the Apostle’s massive mech would use this time. Even more perplexing was the powerful energy attack he’d seen earlier. Tony wanted to know where that energy had come from. At the time, he’d been focused on evading his pursuers, only noticing a sudden flash of dazzling light on the ground, followed by Jarvis’s urgent alarm.

The energy shockwave had exceeded Jarvis’s readings; if Tony hadn’t seen its source himself, he would have assumed only a navy destroyer’s main electromagnetic cannon could produce such force.

But the Apostle’s suit obviously didn’t carry such a large-caliber main gun.

As Tony mulled over this, the Iron Soldiers opened fire, surging forward. More than thirty Iron Soldiers split into two groups: the majority targeted Tony and Rhodey, while a third focused on Luke.

The wetland park erupted instantly in a blaze of fire. Fierce gunfire and violent explosions rang out, the brilliant fireworks from exploding Iron Soldiers stretched in endless succession.

The Mark VI’s palm pulse cannon fired repeatedly, destroying each Iron Soldier with a single shot. War Machine, loaded with heavy weaponry, was designed purely for combat—its name said it all. With the six-barrel Gatling gun and large-caliber firearms on both arms, Rhodey’s firepower rivaled that of an assault squad. Combined with armor thick as a tank, he might struggle against tough enemies, but dealing with cannon fodder was easy.

The two quickly became embroiled in heated battle with the Iron Soldiers. Meanwhile, Luke’s actions vividly illustrated to them what it meant to defy convention.

Under Tony and Rhodey’s puzzled gaze, the six-meter-tall War Lord stomped toward the Iron Soldier that had spoken earlier, its heavy steps thundering across the ground.

Luke’s disguised voice boomed through the mech’s speakers.

“You dare threaten me? Stop hiding. Come out. Bring your electric whips and face me!”

Without hesitation, the Iron Soldier fired two Ex-Wife missiles from its shoulder launcher at close range.

The gigantic War Lord was unexpectedly nimble—it sidestepped, letting one missile brush past and explode behind him, splintering a tree. The next missile followed, but the War Lord swatted it away with a backhand, sending it flying and exploding with a roar nearby.

Under the barrage from surrounding Iron Soldiers, the War Lord strode up to the Iron Soldier. Towering over it, the size difference was almost comical.

War Lord reached out, grabbed the Iron Soldier, and lifted it high, shaking it vigorously.

Luke’s voice echoed from the mech: “Pikachu, is that you, Pikachu?”

After a few shakes, Luke slammed the Iron Soldier to the ground, stomped on it, and deployed the mech’s giant sword.

When Tony saw Luke inexplicably produce a 6.5-meter-long mech sword, he was dumbfounded.

The Apostle had such a massive sword on him?

Where did this bizarre thing come from?

“This is the main weapon of the Apostle’s massive mech?” Tony found it utterly irrational. As he fought off enemies, he rolled his eyes. “What kind of logic is this?”

He and his father Howard were champions of cutting-edge technology. If others lacked a technology, they’d be the first to use it; if others had it, they’d use better materials to make it superior.

People like them couldn’t comprehend Luke’s choice to use cold weapons when he had hot ones available.

The War Lord raised the giant sword high and slammed it down—not a slash or chop, but a smack.

“Smack, smack, smack!”

With each thunderous blow, the intact Iron Soldier was flattened by Luke with the broad, heavy blade, reduced to a heap of scrap metal in moments.

War Lord picked up the wreckage, inspected it closely.

Its eyes flashed. “Pikachu, what’s wrong, Pikachu?”

After a few glances, he tossed it aside like trash, landing with a dull thud.

War Lord stepped onto the Iron Soldier’s remains, legs spread, back straight.

The single thruster beneath the mech’s crotch suddenly began to spew fire.

A torrent of scorching flame burst forth from Luke’s crotch.

M-3 flamethrower!

Within seconds, the Iron Soldier’s remains were charred black, almost unrecognizable.

Luke continued to spray fire, babbling, “Pikachu, say something, Pikachu?”

The Iron Soldiers fighting Tony and Rhodey all turned their guns toward Luke.

Rotus raised a tentacle inside the mech: “On point. I’m giving you a B for this round.”

Luke chuckled. “I never realized how hard it is to act shameless—it’s exhausting. I need to consult someone, ask for tips on how to be properly shameless.”

The flames finally ceased. Luke controlled the War Lord, bent down, and picked up the now pitch-black wreckage.

He grabbed what used to be a leg, spun it around like Thor’s hammer a few times.

Then, with a mighty throw, Luke hurled it at the other Iron Soldiers.

“It’s decided—you’re up. Go, Pikachu!”