A person in American comics is forced to mechanically ascend in order to go home

"Boom"

There was a huge thunder,

Tony Stark suddenly woke up. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, trying to shake off the hangover dizziness and headache.

Next to him were two blonde beauties in cool clothes who were drunk and unconscious.

Two snow-white thighs pressed against his chest.

Tony took his legs away and sat up from the sofa with support.

He got up and rummaged around on the table full of wine bottles for a long time, finally found a bunch of lemonade, picked it up and drank it in one gulp.

The sky was already as dark as ink, and raindrops were hitting the floor-to-ceiling windows crazily, making chaotic crackling sounds.

Tony vaguely remembered that when the party started in the evening, the moonlight was still very clear, the clouds were as light as smoke, and there was no alcohol smell in the room.

Fortunately, there is no smell of smoke or the pungent smell of horse.

Tony doesn't like those things, so no one smokes them at his parties.

I glanced at the electronic clock on the wall with a faint red light, it was 3:30 sharp.

It was already midnight.

Tony walked to the window and began to daze.

As one of the busiest streets in the Boston area, the lights are still bright outside the windows.

But perhaps because of the heavy rain, there were only sporadic emergency lights flashing on the road that was constantly flowing all night.

Several bars on the street that were open until late at night have closed early, and the neon lights that used to shine brightly are like headless flies, spinning around in the pouring rain.

It's like the song ends and people disperse.

Now I am alone.

When he turned on the light, the pale light was dazzling, so he turned it off again.

Tony took out his phone and looked through his unread messages.

"It's raining heavily. Go home after the party. Do you need Jarvis to pick you up?" 22:04, Maria (mother)

"I'm still busy. I'll be back later. You stay at home with your mother. If you need anything, call me." 22:12, Howard (father)

"Come early tomorrow, new project." 22:18, Mr. Irvine.

"Tony, go home now!" 22:54, Maria (mother)

"You're still in your apartment in Copley Square?! The rain is getting heavier!" 23:27, Maria (mother)

"If you haven't set off, just stay there today. The weather station has just issued an orange rainstorm warning." 23:42, Maria (mother)

"I'm going to bed first, good night." 23:47, Maria (mother)

Tony opened the chat box with Mr. Irvine, returned an "OK" gesture, and then put away his phone.

He suddenly felt that sometimes the so-called adult concern was so cold and stupid.

There would be no taxis outside in such heavy rain, and the lazy taxi drivers in Boston would have gone home from get off work long ago. Maybe the situation would be different if someone developed a ride-hailing service, but unfortunately not. In the past two weeks, my driver had taken leave to go back to his hometown, but it was obvious that neither his father nor mother remembered it. Oh no, Howard wouldn't pay attention to such a small thing.

Tony didn't want to call his father or even send a message. Howard was a busy man and didn't pay attention to small things like where he went tonight or that he didn't have a driver. His father was either in the office of the president of Stark Industries or flying across the United States on business trips. He seems to be an important member of some mysterious organization.

Even though he knew that whenever he called, Howard would definitely send a driver or assistant to solve the problem for him.

"Father" is a model husband and father in the eyes of outsiders.

Even more than a model.

A world-renowned entrepreneur and one of the largest suppliers to the U.S. military. He loves his mother and himself very much.

The most common mantra he said to himself was "Tony, just tell me if you need anything, and I will help you solve everything."

It sounds great to have a father who can "solve everything" for you, what more do you want?

When he was still in elementary school, Howard asked him to participate in the most cutting-edge missile research and development, and sent two PhDs from MIT to provide special guidance.

When Tony applied for college in advance, he even found the principals of almost all the Ivy League schools to shake hands with Tony.

Everything sounds perfect.

A 17-year-old MIT genius and the son of a billionaire.

But Tony felt that this was not what he wanted.

He opened the window a crack, and the cold wind suddenly mixed in with raindrops like cannonballs, hitting Tony's body with a biting cold.

Less than a minute later, he slammed the window shut with a bang.

After wiping the rain on his face with a piece of paper, Tony walked to a black safe near the door and entered the password.

Inside is the computer given to him by Mr. Irvine.

In his opinion, this is definitely technology ahead of its time.

The latest model released by Apple a few months ago was a half-meter-thick cube desktop, and the one Mr. Irvine gave him could even fit into an envelope.

Tony walked into the back room, turned on the light, went to the table, turned on the computer, and opened the folder named "Miracle."

Among them are all the materials and experimental data that Mr. Irvine asked him to study.

Except for alcohol, only in the ocean of knowledge at this moment can he get a sense of accomplishment or other positive emotions.