Alien invasion? Luckily, I'm Superman.

"Damn it."

Killian slammed his fist on the table, the sound of his fist hitting the metal surface making a dull thud.

He then turned and shut down the computer. Looking up, he shouted to the lab staff in white coats, "Delete all experimental records, immediately."

Then he got up, pushed open the hidden door behind him, and disappeared down the corridor.

The battle in the front yard continued. The Extremis soldiers were constantly being killed; the ground was littered with bodies of those knocked unconscious by Su Mo, those shot down by Eagle Eye, and those pierced by Natasha's dagger and then exploded.

But the remaining soldiers continued their charge, fearless and relentless. Their limbs, shattered by explosions, could grow back; their bones, broken, could be set. Their final weapon was death. Every unstable soldier of the Extremis would explode before dying, orange fireballs repeatedly bursting in the front yard, forcing the Avengers to retreat, dodge, and reorganize their defenses.

While attacking, Su Mo used his X-ray vision to scan the interior of the laboratory. His gaze passed through the walls and corridors, and in a secret passage, he caught sight of a figure moving quickly.

Killian walked with hurried steps, but not entirely panicked. His photo could be seen on AIM's official website; Su Mo wouldn't mistake him.

"Iron Man!" Su Mo shouted to Tony, who was kiting Sal in the air, "Killian is trying to escape! Don't linger here, go and take care of him!"

Tony hovered in mid-air, his palm pulse cannon aimed at Sal, who was repeatedly getting up and being knocked down by him on the ground.

He heard Su Mo's voice, nodded, and said nothing more. The thruster nozzles turned, the blue flames changed from blue to blazing white, and his body drew an arc in the air, flying rapidly in the direction Su Mo pointed out.

Su Mo withdrew his gaze and used even more power. His fist was twice as fast as before, and the force had doubled. Before a charging soldier could even see his movement, he had already taken a punch to the temple, and his body went limp to the ground as if his bones had been removed.

Just as another was about to pounce, Su Mo's elbow was already pressed against his throat, and he fell to the ground, his eyes rolling back. Then came the third, the fourth… Within seconds, there were no enemies left standing around Su Mo.

Then he turned and grabbed Sal's ankle as he tried to follow Tony.

Sal's ankle cracked in Su Mo's palm. Su Mo exerted force and slammed him to the ground. Sal's back slammed into the paving stones, shattering them. His ribs snapped repeatedly, and his right thigh bone broke in the middle, the broken pieces piercing his combat uniform and revealing the white bone fragments.

Blood gushed from the wound, but stopped within seconds. The broken bones writhed beneath the muscles, joined together, and healed; fragments were absorbed by the body, and new bone cells grew rapidly at the break. The Extremis virus's regenerative abilities were working frantically, piecing his body back into human form.

Su Mo looked down at the gruesome scene, feeling a pang of pity. His eyes turned red, and two beams of heat shot from his pupils, precisely piercing Sal's skull.

Sal's body twitched, then remained completely still. The vitality of Extremis virus carriers is extraordinary; as long as the brain isn't dead, even if only the torso remains, they can "revive." Therefore, the brain must be destroyed.

While Su Mo killed Sal, the others weren't idle either. Hawkeye seized an opening in Allen's defenses during a barrage of shots.

Allen's attention was drawn to Captain America's shield, and he didn't notice the two arrows flying from his side. The first explosive arrow detonated right in front of him, the orange flash and smoke obscuring his vision. The second explosive arrow struck his calf precisely; the shockwave from the blast caused him to stagger, lose his balance, bend his knee, and fall backward.

Captain America seized the opportunity. He strode forward, slamming his shield down on Allen's shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

Allen's back was pressed against the cracked floor tiles. He tried to get up, bracing himself with his right elbow, but Captain America's fist had already slammed down. The first punch landed on Allen's temple, and his head snapped to one side. The second punch struck his other eye socket, causing the whites of his eyes to roll back and his pupils to dilate.

Black Widow approached from the side, the blade of her specially crafted dagger gleaming coldly. She bent down, the dagger slicing into Allen's neck. Allen's hot skin was as hard as porcelain; the dagger sawed back and forth three times at the carotid artery before finally cutting through. Blood spurted out.

Soon, Allen followed in his companion's footsteps. His head was severed by Black Widow and rolled to the side.

Su Mo shook his head as he watched the cruel scene. But he wouldn't say anything. Being too kind to villains is cruel to ordinary people and superheroes.

Thinking this, he took a deep breath, and icy breath poured out. A white, frigid current swirled in the night sky, engulfing the ordinary Desperate soldiers who were still struggling. They were quickly frozen in the cold, like statues.

Once Iron Man develops the antidote, then let the law punish them.

"Come on, keep up with Iron Man, Avengers."

Captain America rose from Alan's body, slung his shield back over his arm, and glanced at Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Su Mo. His breathing was still a little rapid, but he quickly regained his composure.

Although Su Mo felt that Tony probably didn't need support, he didn't say anything. He followed behind Steve.

Meanwhile, following Su Mo's directions, Iron Man located the helicopter in the night sky. It was fleeing southeast at top speed.

The side door of the cabin was open, and Killian sat in the doorway, one hand gripping the edge of the door, the other palm down, orange light flickering between his fingers.

Enemies meeting are bound to be filled with hatred. Tony didn't say a word; he simply fired his palm pulse cannon. The blue-white beam drew a straight line across the night sky and struck the helicopter's tail.

The tail section exploded, sending metal fragments flying through the air. The helicopter shook violently, and the rotor emitted a piercing metallic scraping sound.

Killian's palm suddenly lit up, and a ball of high-temperature flame shot out from his palm. Tony dodged the flame, rolled half a circle in the air, and re-ignited his thrusters to stabilize his posture.

Killian's hands chased after him, flames like two orange whips, lashing out in long arcs across the night sky, relentlessly pursuing Tony's flight path. Tony spun, dove, and climbed, the flames always just a few meters behind him, the heat scorching the back of his armor, and the temperature alarm in the cockpit flashed yellow.

Killian burst into hearty laughter as he watched Tony scramble to avoid him.

"Ha! Tony Stark, you've finally met your match!"

His voice carried on the night wind, a frenzied outburst of resentment finally finding an outlet after more than a decade of suppression: "Regret? Blame it on that night in 1999!"

Tony's voice came from the armor's loudspeakers, echoing in the air with that signature tone that made you want to punch his lousy mouth.

"Oh, who are you? Sorry, I only remember the woman I slept with. As for who you are, sorry, I really don't remember."

Tony actually remembered who he was. But he knew that taunting would make the opponent lose their temper, make mistakes, and defeat them more easily. It was an effective tactic.

Sure enough, Killian's eyes turned red, and bloodshot rage filled the whites of his eyes. His flames burned even more fiercely, but his aim clearly declined; his anger had driven his opponent to madness.

"Turn around!" Killian yelled at the helicopter pilot. "Get closer!"

The driver hesitated, glancing at the erratic instrument panel ahead, then at Killian's face, contorted with rage. "But, sir, the tail fin is damaged—"

"I said move closer!"

The pilot dared not speak again. He pushed the control stick, and the helicopter tilted and turned, flying towards Tony's direction.

Tony smiled smugly behind his mask. His gaze swept across the distant horizon. In that direction, where the night met the city lights, a dozen or so points of light appeared. The points of light rapidly expanded, growing brighter and more numerous.

That was the massive army of mechs that Iron Man had been designing and building over the past six months, working tirelessly through the night. Silver-red, pure silver, black, and camouflage-painted, they stood in formation, like a flock of migrating giant metal birds, pressing down from the night sky.