Chapter 76: Counterattack

The attackers' gunfire fell silent, and the distinct sound of magazine changes could be heard; Tony Stark, as if possessed by a war god, burst out from beside the cabinet, firing single-handedly at the gunmen who had entered the villa.

Though he very much wanted to keep playing dead, the fact that this guy—bearing the fate of a protagonist-level superhero—had charged out left Henry no choice but to stop hiding.

Shared life-and-death experiences count as debt too; normally, it's not easy to get someone of this caliber to owe you a favor.

Besides, if Tony died here, who knew if old Stark might fly into a rage and wipe out everyone connected to this villa?

Those with wealth and power might still buy themselves a chance at survival; someone like me, with no influence or clout, could only rely on my abilities to flee for my life.

The time to weigh pros and cons lasted only an instant; as Tony charged out, Henry stood up from behind the cabinet.

Every time Stark fired a shot, Henry watched whether the bullet's trajectory hit anyone; if it did, he shot at targets not yet aimed at; if it missed, he provided covering fire.

This might sound fantastical, but given Kryptonian neural reaction and thought speeds, such feats were effortless.

Henry's body functioned like a dial: the more he focused, the faster his reactions became. He could process more thoughts and still move normally within this domain… relatively speaking.

To outsiders, Henry appeared to enter some kind of speed zone; to himself, the world had nearly frozen still.

When he worked part-time as a stunt or action actor, this ability had allowed him to safely perform many moves others deemed impossibly difficult. So this wasn't some last-minute improvisation.

Now, using this ability to shoot people, hitting every target was the bare minimum; no one could possibly hit him—not even the most skilled sniper.

In truth, with super-speed, Henry could punch a skull to pulp and endure bullets with his bare body; but he had no intention of exposing his powers. Using reaction speed to cheat was already an unbeatable advantage.

People say one should stay humble; Henry certainly had no need to unleash his full suite of superpowers against these harmless ordinary people. To avoid revealing his superhuman reaction speed, he relied entirely on acting.

This was the true Way of Superman. The difference between Superman and Clark Kent wasn't just a suit and a pair of glasses.

One trait of Clark Kent's persona was clumsiness. Those who knew both Superman and Clark Kent found it nearly impossible to imagine that the bumbling reporter could become the god among men when he donned the suit.

If Superman's human form weren't a reporter but an actor, he'd be an Oscar-caliber performer. Henry understood this deeply.

In practice, every time Tony fired, Henry would slowly follow up with one or two shots of his own—then deliberately miss, emptying his magazine, until together they brought down all the gunmen entering through the villa's front door.

Though not every shot was lethal, the fact that two men with two pistols had taken down six enemies was considered extraordinary by ordinary standards.

Tony Stark seemed to believe he alone had taken down all the enemies—one shot per kill—and he glanced at Henry with a mocking, boastful look.

To be fair, Young Stark's pistol accuracy was already quite high. At roughly ten meters, four out of six hits, two of them fatal—he had every right to be proud.

Henry tossed his empty magazine away, raised the spent pistol, and gave the proud young master a look. Then he stepped forward to check the fallen gunmen.

He didn't bother finishing each one off with a coup de grâce, but at least he disarmed them to prevent ambushes from behind. Henry picked up a short gun and fiddled with it.

Tony walked over, watching Henry's clumsy movements, and asked with a dark expression: "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to figure out how to remove the magazine and check the remaining rounds."

Tony pointed to the magazine release catch on the grip: "Press here—the magazine pops out."

Following his instruction, Henry pressed the catch, and the magazine ejected—but his other hand wasn't positioned beneath the grip to catch it.

So the magazine flew free, forcing him to scramble and snatch it midair. Luckily, he didn't let it drop.

Even reinserting it took two tries before it clicked into place. Same with racking the slide.

Only after completing the entire sequence did Henry assume a proper firing stance—during which Tony Stark's face darkened and his eyes rolled skyward. He reluctantly muttered: "You didn't engage the safety."

"Oh." Henry glanced around, finally locating the safety switch. The markings on the gun clearly indicated on/off, so he didn't need to ask again.

Tony Stark couldn't hold back any longer: "Have you ever used a gun before?"

Henry hesitated slightly, then said: "Uh… today's my first time." It was the truth. Including his life before the transmigration, Henry had only ever seen guns in TV and movies—today was his first time holding a real one.

Even in Alaska, he'd never played with John's shotgun.

Yet Henry's blunt honesty left Tony Stark's face black. He stopped looking at this seemingly unreliable ally.

If not for the fact that Henry could still distract enemies, Tony truly wouldn't have wanted to operate alongside him.

Tony strapped a short gun to his lower back, took a long gun, and made sure to remove its magazine to check the weight and confirm sufficient ammo.

As for the long guns, he didn't hand one to Henry. These captured rifles were all new models, with complex structures and operations.

Besides, long guns are ill-suited for indoor use. To avoid getting shot in the back, the unreliable ally should stick with a pistol.

For those still breathing or moaning on the ground, Tony delivered a clean, efficient blow with the butt of his rifle, knocking them out cold.

Watching Tony's restless glances and his ears straining for gunfire from other areas, it was clear he had no intention of holding position and waiting for backup.

Henry said: "Their target isn't you—it's that guy, Jash Hilton. Are you still going to fight them? Didn't you say support is coming in twenty minutes?"

"How do you know they won't kill everyone here to cover their tracks? If we don't strike back now while chaos reigns, once they secure the situation, we'll be lambs waiting for slaughter. Their gear—I doubt anyone else can hold out even twenty minutes."

Tony glanced at Henry and added: "If you're scared, you don't have to follow."

The Kryptonian fell silent.

(End of Chapter)