NOVEL NEXT Chapter 235: Clown Rhodey
The entire place was buzzing with laughter and energy, but Rhodey wasn't having any of it.
As the liaison between the military and Tony Stark, he was growing increasingly frustrated. Lately, Tony had been busy with racing, teaming up with Smith to roll out Whiplash, and doing anything but focusing on national defense. The higher-ups were displeased — and as a man with a military mindset, so was Rhodey.
Thinking about his orders from above, Rhodey went straight to Tony's basement lab. After punching in the code, he stepped inside.
One look around and he saw them — an entire row of Mark-series armors lined up like trophies. Rhodey marched right up, picked one, and tried to suit up.
It didn't work.
Without Tony's authorization, he couldn't even open the armor, let alone wear it.
After a few failed attempts, he gave up and headed back upstairs to the party.
What he didn't know was that JARVIS had reported everything to Tony through the armor's comms.
Tony, still wearing a suit on stage, heard the update without anyone else noticing.
And it ticked him off.
Sure, they were friends, and sure, he understood Rhodey's position. But just walking into his lab and trying to take an armor without asking? That crossed a line.
Even Smith Dole had never asked to "play around" with a suit, despite having his own arc reactor. Bulma and Ivan Vanko never built themselves a Mark-series either.
Tony still had one suit Bulma had worn in the past, waiting for the right moment to give it to her.
But Rhodey's little stunt? That convinced Tony to change the lab's password immediately — and left him deeply disappointed.
When Rhodey came back upstairs and saw Tony dancing the Charleston on stage, his anger boiled over.
"Tony, you should be where you belong — at your post!"
The DJ instinctively stopped the music. The room went silent.
Smith, realizing Rhodey had failed to steal a suit, looked at him with mock amusement and said,
"Tony, I didn't know you had a side gig in the Air Force — to the point where they're stripping you of your right to celebrate your own birthday."
Some high-profile guests chuckled, with Ivan Vanko laughing the loudest.
Pepper was about to step in and defuse the situation, but Bulma stopped her with a look and whispered,
"Pepper-neesan, let's see what Rhodey's trying to pull. Today's Tony's birthday — there's no way he doesn't know that."
Pepper hesitated. She'd been swamped since taking over the company, but Tony hadn't done anything outrageous at this party. Why should Rhodey come in and ruin it?
Tony rubbed his face.
"Last I checked, I don't hold a position in the Department of Defense or the military."
Rhodey jabbed a finger at him.
"You're not worthy to wear the Iron Armor. Take it off."
Tony, still smiling, tried to smooth things over.
"This is my good friend Rhodey. He's just under a lot of stress lately… maybe had too much to drink."
He turned to the DJ.
"Godestein."
"Yes, Mr. Stark?"
"Give my brother something with some kick."
The DJ obeyed, blasting a new track as BGM.
Rhodey stormed the stage, grabbed Tony from behind, and barked,
"I said take it off!"
Yelena frowned.
"Is this guy insane?"
Ivan Vanko shrugged.
"Who knows? No normal person does this."
Tony gently pried Rhodey's arms off.
"Buddy, it's my birthday. I'll pretend you're drunk. Go home and get some rest."
Rhodey snapped back,
"The Iron Armor is for protecting civilians, for maintaining America's security — not for you to mess around with at parties. You're not fit to wear it like this."
Smith's brow furrowed, and he cut in sharply,
"Tony Stark is Iron Man. But he's also himself — a billionaire, a scientist, a playboy, a genius. The Mark-series is his creation. As long as he's not using it for evil, even if he uses it to set off fireworks to impress a woman, that's his choice."
Tony's eyes lit up — fireworks with the armor? Brilliant idea. But more than that, he appreciated Smith's reminder that he was more than just Iron Man.
Realizing the eyes on him, Rhodey muttered,
"Sorry, I got carried away. But Tony, since the Monaco race, you haven't been out in the suit protecting America's peace."
With that, he left the villa.
Smith was left speechless — was this moral blackmail?
One minute trying to steal the armor, the next accusing the owner of not doing enough? Hypocrisy at its finest.
Tony felt the same way. He'd been working nonstop — researching a replacement element for the arc reactor, upgrading the Mark-series, creating an insanely expensive suit made of adamantium, planning a private satellite for remote support, and developing modular armor for rapid assembly.
With all that going on, patrolling the country every day wasn't realistic — and besides, wasn't Whiplash filling that role now?
With the mood wrecked, Tony waved his hand.
"Keep the music going, keep the dance going."
The crowd cheered again, but the earlier energy was gone.
Before leaving, Smith handed Tony a box.
"Tony, this is from me and Bulma. I think you'll like it."
(End of Chapter)
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