Chapter 102 Sending You a Thank You Card
Both possibilities made Iron Man feel an unpleasant chill crawl up his spine.
A man powerful enough to physically dismantle a Leviathan…
Yet completely indifferent toward the Tesseract.
Either answer was terrifying.
"Hey, big guy."
Tony forced his usual casual tone back into place.
But the dryness in his throat remained obvious.
"At least give us a name."
"So next time I can send you a thank-you card properly."
The masked figure tilted his head slightly.
That tiny motion somehow radiated overwhelming condescension.
"You do not require my name."
The cold mechanical voice echoed softly across the rooftop.
Then—
Without warning—
His body leaned backward.
And fell.
Straight off the top of Stark Tower.
Hundreds of meters high.
"He—!"
Captain America rushed toward the rooftop edge instantly.
Below—
New York burned beneath drifting smoke and scattered Chitauri wreckage.
The black-clothed figure plummeted rapidly through the urban canyon between skyscrapers.
Smaller.
Smaller.
Then—
Gone.
Not crashed.
Not hidden.
Vanished completely.
Inside the Mark armor—
JARVIS tracked the descent continuously.
"Sir."
"The target signal became unstable at approximately fifty meters altitude."
"Thermal signature dispersing…"
"…tracking lost."
Tony's eyes narrowed sharply.
Because Stark satellite systems could follow a mosquito through blind spots if necessary.
Yet this person had disappeared into thin air.
What nobody knew—
Was that the moment the surrounding buildings blocked external sightlines—
Lynn activated [Biological Symbiotic Adaptability] instantly.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
The terrifying 1.95-meter war-machine physique shrank rapidly.
Shoulders narrowed.
Muscles compressed inward.
Facial structure softened.
The square executioner-like face transformed once more into the gentle refined appearance of Doctor Lynn.
The entire process lasted less than three seconds.
The black combat suit folded neatly into a compact square and disappeared inside the white coat.
The blank white mask followed afterward.
By the time Lynn landed silently upon Fifth Avenue—
Only the familiar doctor wearing gold-rimmed glasses remained.
He calmly walked back toward the battlefield medical pod carrying himself exactly like an exhausted civilian physician.
Then paused slightly at the entrance.
The blast door hung crookedly.
Earlier—
He had accidentally kicked it off its track while launching toward the Leviathan.
Troublesome.
After entering—
The first thing Lynn did was pour another cup of coffee.
Then he walked quietly toward the corner of the medical pod.
Spiderweb-shaped cracks covered the alloy floor there.
Evidence left behind from transforming and exerting excessive force earlier.
Lynn crouched silently.
Then retrieved a plasma welding torch from the equipment cabinet.
For the next two minutes—
He calmly reheated and re-smoothed the damaged alloy floor manually.
When finished—
Only faint palm impressions remained hidden within the repaired metal surface.
Completely inconspicuous amidst a battlefield environment already filled with explosions and structural damage.
Acceptable.
The coffee remained warm when footsteps approached outside.
Knock. Knock.
Polite.
Controlled.
Lynn pressed the open switch.
The damaged blast door slid aside slowly.
Captain America stood outside.
His combat suit looked shredded.
Blood seeped faintly through fresh abdominal bandages.
Dust and dried blood covered half his face.
Yet Steve Rogers still stood perfectly straight.
"Dr. Lynn."
The moment Steve saw him standing there unharmed—
A visible trace of relief crossed his expression.
"It's good you're alright."
"We couldn't contact you earlier…"
"Overclocking-radiation shielding interference."
Lynn sipped coffee leisurely.
"That large bug outside fired a beam that nearly destroyed my medical pod."
Steve glanced around the interior.
Broken equipment.
Scattered glass.
Overturned machinery.
Clear evidence of severe battlefield impact.
He nodded slowly.
Then asked the real question.
"Doctor…"
"Did you see him?"
"Who?"
"That masked man."
Steve carefully chose the wording.
"The one wearing black with the white mask."
"He disappeared somewhere near this area."
Lynn adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses calmly.
"Captain."
"I have remained inside this medical pod for the past two hours treating wounded civilians."
His tone sounded completely natural.
Even carrying slight post-battle nervousness regarding unknown superhuman threats.
"What masked man are you referring to?"
"Has another monster appeared outside?"
Too natural.
Far too natural.
Nothing about this refined doctor remotely resembled the monster who had punched Hulk across Manhattan barehanded.
Steve looked at him silently for two additional seconds.
Then slowly shook his head.
"…Maybe my people saw incorrectly."
A pause followed.
Then Steve spoke sincerely.
"Thank you, Doctor."
"You saved a lot of lives today."
"Saving people is my profession."
Lynn glanced toward the blood-soaked bandages across Steve's abdomen.
"But if you continue running around like this…"
"…your lung sutures will rupture before aliens manage to kill you."
Steve smiled helplessly.
Then turned and left the medical pod slowly.
As he stepped through the damaged doorway—
He glanced once more toward the twisted blast frame with strange suspicion lingering faintly inside his eyes.
Lynn watched him disappear into the ruined avenue outside.
Then calmly took another sip of coffee.
Perfect.
…
Post-war New York resembled hell.
But the city's greatest chaos no longer came from burning buildings or alien wreckage.
It came from the global search for the masked man.
Nick Fury mobilized nearly every intelligence asset available to S.H.I.E.L.D..
Satellite imaging.
Facial recognition.
Thermal tracking.
Movement analysis.
Manhattan was searched almost meter by meter.
The result:
Nothing.
Every ground surveillance network had already been destroyed earlier by Chitauri EMP disruption.
The aerial footage captured only combat sequences.
And the blank white mask plus black combat suit provided zero usable biometric data.
Voice analysis concluded only:
Synthetic mechanical modulation detected.
To every intelligence agency on Earth—
The masked figure seemed to have materialized from nowhere.
Then vanished back into nowhere afterward.
Fury became increasingly irritated.
Then—
Three hours after the battle ended—
Something even more troublesome occurred.
He arrived personally at the battlefield medical pod alongside Black Widow.
A holographic communication projector floated beside them.
Inside the medical pod—
Lynn calmly stabilized the fractured leg of an injured civilian.
Without looking up—
He spoke casually.
"Director."
"What seems to be the issue?"
Nick Fury's holographic projection stared at him with a single cold eye.
The pressure inside his voice resembled heavy stone pressing downward.
"Dr. Lynn."
"I have several questions."
"Please proceed."
Fury's gaze sharpened immediately.
"First."
"During the period when the masked individual appeared…"
"Why did every vital-sign scanner inside your medical pod temporarily lose your biological signal completely?"