46: Chapter 46: I'm a little envious, I really want to rob them.

As the old saying goes, since you're already here, you have to take something with you. After all, one shouldn't leave empty-handed.

You say this is stealing? No, no, no. Fu Haoran had zero psychological burden when it came to fleecing capitalists.

He didn't rush to leave, instead following Obadiah into the assembly workshop next door.

A suit of iron-gray combat armor, over three meters tall, stood in the center. Its limbs were thick, its chest plate was heavy, and two six-barreled machine guns were mounted on its shoulders.

However, the welding seams were as rough as if they had been chewed on by a dog, and the hydraulic pipes at the joints were exposed and stained with oil, looking exactly like a piece of construction machinery cobbled together from scrap metal.

"Iron Monger." Obadiah patted the leg of the combat armor, his voice brimming with pride. "How about it? Isn't it bigger and stronger than that flashy suit of Tony's?"

Fu Haoran glanced at it, quickly evaluating it in his mind.

"If we're purely comparing battlefield survivability and firepower projection, this thing is indeed more practical than Tony's early combat armor."

"The heavy front armor is suitable for holding the line, and the simple structure means it's easy to mass-produce."

But he was here to ask for money today, not to act as a critic. How do you get a sucker to open his wallet? The answer was simple: get him worked up.

"Garbage." Fu Haoran spat out the word.

"What did you say?" Obadiah's smile froze, his expression darkening. "This is Stark's finest craftsmanship! The junk Tony built in that cave doesn't even compare to half of this!"

"That's why you can't beat him." Fu Haoran continued to twist the knife.

"This is just a bloated, heavy monstrosity with little technological substance. The missile power is mediocre, and more importantly, it can't hit anything at all. The weapon system is even more backward."

"You even left some key electronic components exposed." Fu Haoran shook his head, his disdain practically written all over his face.

Obadiah's expression was grim. "This is the best craftsmanship Stark has to offer right now!"

"It's your best, not Tony's best." Fu Haoran turned to look at him. "Tony built combat armor; you built an iron coffin."

Obadiah's face alternated between shades of green and white, but he did not refute the claim.

"Can you build something better?" He stared at Fu Haoran.

"I can." Fu Haoran answered succinctly. "But it requires real industrial support, not this kind of manual workshop."

"What do you want?"

"Access to all of Stark's shut-down military production lines," Fu Haoran said without hesitation. "Including the backdoors to the CNC systems, dispatch rights for the raw material warehouses, and at least one complete heavy assembly line."

Obadiah narrowed his eyes. "You have quite an appetite. How do I know you're not just trying to pull a fast one?"

Fu Haoran pulled a tablet from his coat and brought up a 3D structural diagram that he had asked the Tech-Priest to prepare the night before. While it wasn't exactly cutting-edge, it was still technology from tens of thousands of years in the future... even if it was common knowledge by now.

Obadiah flipped through it quickly, growing more shocked with every page. After ten seconds of silence, he gritted his teeth and nodded. "I'll have my assistant send the keys to you. If you're playing any games, don't even think about walking out of New York."

Obadiah signed the authorization on the tablet. As he turned to leave, a flash of ruthlessness crossed his eyes. "Once the prototype is finished and Tony is dead, none of these arrogant outsiders will be left alive."

Watching Obadiah leave, Wade leaned in. "My Lord, are we really going to help him?"

Fu Haoran's lips curled into a sneer. "We're just using his resources to get what we need. Soon, those factory production lines, equipment, and materials will all be ours."

"Eventually, we'll have our own military factory."

... Three days later, a few inconspicuous entries appeared on the top-secret logistics list of Stark's procurement department: extremely rare Vibranium raw materials, a pitifully small amount of Adamantium alloy, high-precision Laser Gun components...

"I've already charged all the expenses to Obadiah's specially approved project for you," Lucifer said.

"Fleecing the capitalists feels so good. It won't be discovered anytime soon, right?"

The next second, Lucifer cast a disdainful glance his way. "What do you think?"

Fu Haoran smiled, knowing he had asked a stupid question. He opened the system interface. 【World Line Deviation Rate: 23.3%】

Fu Haoran frowned. It was too slow.

"I want a tsunami."

"But how do I change the world line?"

Fu Haoran reviewed his information and realized that there wasn't much content related to the Marvel world.

Fu Haoran pulled up the historical scan records of the Auspex. His finger swiped across the screen, stopping on an image. It was a capture of an accidental energy peak from three days ago.

At stratospheric altitude, a massive, irregular energy signature had briefly deactivated its optical camouflage. Its outline resembled a bloated metal whale. A Helicarrier.

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mobile base. It could hover at high altitudes, deploy globally, and was equipped with the most advanced technology and weaponry of this era.

"If I can take it, not only will it significantly increase the deviation rate, but it will also provide the Hive City with a ready-made orbital outpost."

"But how do I take it?"

"By force? That thing cruises at an altitude of ten thousand meters year-round, has a full suite of anti-aircraft defenses, elite agents, and an old fox like Nick Fury in command."

"Sending the current planetary guard to assault it would result in unacceptable casualties."

"Besides, I don't have enough transport aircraft."

"Infiltration? Joining Hydra? Too slow. The time I have in this world doesn't allow me to take things slowly."

"Wait, it seems there's another place that has Helicarriers."

Fu Haoran pulled up the Auspex's interface, entered commands to narrow the scope, and focused on the North American continent.

"I remember that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Helicarriers... there was more than one," Fu Haoran muttered to himself, his fingers tapping on the virtual keyboard. "And there was a whole batch of them. They should still be in the final stages of construction right now."

Relying on his vague memories, Fu Haoran added filter criteria, and the Auspex began a deep scan. A green light grid penetrated the rock layers layer by layer, filtering out mountains, mineral veins, and natural caves. Ten minutes later, the screen locked onto a region.

The full view of an underwater base was projected onto the screen. Fu Haoran's eyes lit up. Inside the dock, three unfinished Helicarriers were parked quietly. Each one was armed to the teeth.

"Six triple-barreled heavy cannons on the exterior of the hull. They'll have no trouble punching through armor."

"Secondary guns on the broadside for defense against flanking, plus close-in weapon systems and 21-cell anti-aircraft missile batteries on the deck."

"A sniper array on the underside, optical camouflage for stealth, and a hundred Quinjets standing by on the deck."

"Although they aren't much to look at in the Warhammer universe, they're decent as weapons platforms. As long as I replace the weapons and install a Void Shield, they'll have the strength to fight even if they encounter a small Titan."

Fu Haoran had made up his mind; he was going to take these three big treasures with him. But the next second, his eyes darkened.

The Auspex clearly indicated: there were ten thousand S.H.I.E.L.D. elites and thirty thousand personnel inside the dock. With layers of internal fortifications and an anti-detection electromagnetic interference system, it was as impenetrable as a fortress.

Fu Haoran leaned back in his chair, his fingertips drumming forcefully against the table, his brow furrowed. He was tempted—too tempted.

Furthermore, Fu Haoran believed that the system's post-mission rewards for stealing these three Helicarriers would be massive. But taking them by force? That was a huge amount of pressure.

"With ten thousand garrison troops, a direct assault is pure suicide." Fu Haoran's brow remained furrowed. "Sending tanks is useless. Unless I use a battleship to bombard it... Wait, a battleship?!"

Fu Haoran sat up straight, the confusion in his eyes fading to be replaced by a cold, fanatical intensity. "Although the destroyer I brought doesn't have heavy ground-bombardment cannons, the equipped lances are the most domineering 'can openers' themselves!"

A clear plan began to form: use the starship to tear open the dock's ceiling, creating chaos and a breach. But the next second, Fu Haoran frowned sharply. A new problem had arisen.

"No, the final step still requires a direct assault, and the casualties would still be massive. I need an assault team to clear out the defenders inside and act as the spearhead."

Fu Haoran opened the standard equipment list for his guards, glanced at it, and shook his head. "Laser Guns and plastiform armor are fine for fighting terrorists, but they probably won't cut it against S.H.I.E.L.D.'s heavily guarded positions."

"I need a unit that can advance through a hail of gunfire in confined spaces and ultimately seize control of the bridge."

Fu Haoran closed the equipment list and immediately activated his communicator, his tone grave. "Wade, bring Ivan Vanko here."

"Yes, My Lord. Is there a new mission?"

"Yes. We are going to use Obadiah's money and Stark's assembly lines to forge a unit that truly belongs to us... Stormtroopers."