A man wearing a clown mask—**Joey**—stood in front of the table where **Yang Xu** should have been, barking orders at the hostages:
**"Hurry up! Don't waste time! What's more important—your money or your life?"**
A woman, urged by both her husband and the robbers, reluctantly surrendered millions of dollars' worth of jewelry—diamond necklaces, earrings, and rings.
One by one, the hostages shuffled forward, piling the table with priceless treasures.
Meanwhile, Yang Xu lingered on the terrace's edge, seemingly lost in New York's glittering skyline. But his attention was fixed on the system notifications flashing before him:
**[Hostages taken: +100 reputation with Tony Stark]**
**[Hostages taken: +30 reputation with Happy Hogan]**
**[Hostages taken: +1 reputation with Guest A]**
**[Hostages taken: +1.1 reputation…]**
Yang Xu's brow furrowed. **"The wealthy give far more reputation than ordinary people. Tony's makes sense… but Happy? Because he used to be head of security?"**
His thoughts were interrupted by a commotion near Joey.
**"P-Please! I don't have money or jewelry—I'm just a waiter!"** A young man trembled, his voice breaking under the barrel of a gun.
Yang Xu strode over. **"Problem?"**
Joey leaned in. **"Boss, this guy's broke. What do we do?"**
Yang Xu's eyes narrowed as he approached the shaking waiter. **"No money? That's… inconvenient."** His voice turned icy. **"If I let you go, how do I convince the others to pay?" Maybe I should make an example of you."**
He raised his gun, pressing it against the waiter's forehead.
**"I—I—!"**
**"Wait!"** A voice cut through the tension. **"Don't shoot. I'm Tony Stark—I've got money. A lot of it. Just don't hurt anyone."**
Tony stepped forward, hands raised, though his confidence wavered under Yang Xu's cold stare.
Yang Xu smirked. **"Ah, the famous Tony Stark. Arms dealer turned hero, huh?"**
Tony forced a grin. **"I just don't want corpses haunting my nightmares. And killing him won't profit you, right?"**
Yang Xu stayed silent, his gaze flickering between the terrified waiter and Tony's sweating face. Finally, he spoke: **"Fine. A hundred million. Play the hero."**
Tony blinked. **"That much?"**
Yang Xu's smirk vanished. **"Boring."**
**"No, no—deal!"** Tony backpedaled. **"You'll get your money. Just don't hurt anyone."**
Satisfied, Yang Xu nodded. **"Good. Someone get Mr. Stark a… cake."**
Joey shoved a slice into Tony's hands.
**"I—I don't usually accept food from—"**
A gun pressed against his temple.
Tony swallowed his pride—and the cake.
With the "poor" waiter spared, the robbers worked faster. Soon, Joey reported: **"Boss, we're done."**
The masked men hoisted bulging sacks of loot. Yang Xu murmured, **"Take them to the safe house. I'll handle the rest."**
As Joey and the others slipped away, Yang Xu grabbed a microphone.
**"Thanks for your cooperation! We were going to leave, but Mr. Stark here offered a hundred million to save the staff. So, applause for his generosity—and my mercy!"**
The hostages stared blankly until—
**BANG! BANG! BANG!**
Screams erupted. Under cover of chaos, the robbers vanished.
Five minutes of forced applause later, Yang Xu signaled silence. **"Mr. Stark? Your phone."**
Tony, clutching his stomach, retrieved his device.
Then—
**BANG!**
A bullet grazed his scalp.
Yang Xu's voice was calm. **"Five minutes. No money? That cake's your last meal."**
He tossed Tony an anonymous account number.
Tony, his head still ringing, started typing furiously.
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