Chapter 20 I refuse

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"I refuse."

Before Killian could finish his pitch, Indra decisively cut him off.

Indra stood up, stretching lazily. "I've always been a lone wolf. I don't like teaming up with anyone. So, I think you've got the wrong person."

Killian's face fell, a hint of sadness crossing his features. "Of course, you have your choice... I apologize if I was too presumptuous." He looked down, almost talking to himself. "Still, I am grateful to you. You gave me hope. I thought, since you had a conflict with Captain America, you might be like me. Clearly, I was mistaken. You have your health and incredible strength. How could you possibly be like a cripple like me?"

Indra chuckled softly. If he didn't know Killian's true intentions, he might have been swayed by his words. Each statement was true. As a man who had lost his legs and been scorned, seeking revenge was understandable. But it had nothing to do with Indra.

"Regardless, thank you for your time, sir," Killian continued. "I've booked a room for you in this hotel. Feel free to stay as long as you like. If you need anything, let me know. I still hope you might help me."

Killian's words snapped Indra back to the moment. He shook his head, smiling. "I don't really need anything." With that, he turned to leave but then paused, looking back at Killian. "I know what you're thinking, and I understand your story. You're pitiable, but also despicable, no matter who actually did those things. I suggest you stop capturing people for your Extremis experiments. Otherwise, you'll face serious consequences."

Killian looked momentarily taken aback, then nodded sadly. "Of course, sir. I know it's wrong. I'll tell them to stop."

Indra was aware that "them" referred to dangerous individuals led by the Mandarin, who harbored a deep hatred for the Avengers and sought their destruction at any cost. S.H.I.E.L.D. likely had these terrorists under investigation already, and the Avengers were probably mobilizing.

Indra wasn't a saint, nor was he an irredeemable villain. Killian's goal was to fight the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D., which had nothing to do with Indra. Though Killian was a villain, it was the arrogance and hubris of the heroes that had created him. They could deal with their own mess. Indra had no reason to preemptively take down Killian or the Mandarin, as it offered him no benefit. Similarly, he had no reason to collaborate with Killian.

Giving Killian one last glance, Indra left the room. He didn't expect to reform a villain but didn't feel the need to kill a defenseless cripple either. However, if anyone decided to cross him, he wouldn't hesitate to fight back, no matter who it was.

Watching Indra leave, Killian's smile froze on his face. Who did that man think he was, relying on the very serum Killian had developed to gain his strength? What right did he have to judge him?

Killian's gaze grew cold, and he muttered to himself, "It's because I'm not strong enough yet!"

Suddenly, he slammed his fists against his numb legs, reminding himself who had turned him into this crippled state. Years ago, he had been obsessed with Tony Stark, believing him to be the greatest man alive. He had worked tirelessly to gain an audience with Stark, eager to show him his research.

But what did he get in return? Nothing but cold indifference. He had waited on that rooftop all night, only to be utterly dismissed by that arrogant, self-centered man. If it weren't for Stark, he wouldn't be in this pathetic state, feeling like a useless piece of trash.

Now, Killian's only desire was to become powerful, to crush everyone beneath his feet.

"Doctor," a man in a black suit entered the room. He looked tense, glancing at Killian as he spoke, "Should we deal with him?"

Killian sneered, "Do you think you have the ability to handle him?"

The man trembled, shaking his head. Killian slapped him hard across the face, yelling, "Useless! What good are you?"

The man bowed his head, full of silent resentment, but he dared not fight back. He knew all too well the terrifying power of the Extremis virus. It was potent, yet unpredictable.

Killian lifted his chin, taking a deep breath. "Tell those idiots to stop capturing people for experiments," he ordered. Then, reconsidering, he added, "And stop those so-called terrorist bombings for now."

The man looked puzzled, asking hesitantly, "Doctor, are we abandoning the Extremis research?"

Killian's eyes blazed with fury. "Did I say that?! Those fools are making too much noise with their explosions and kidnappings. Do they want the whole world to know about us?"

The man's body shook with fear. "Then... what about the experiments?"

Killian snorted. "Move the experiments to a new location. I'll decide who to use for testing. The priority now is to perfect the serum."

The man seemed to want to say something but was cut off by Killian's sharp command, "Get out!" He fled the room.

Killian frowned as the door closed behind him, his rage subsiding into a cold calculation. The man might be skilled, but he was essentially a ghost, his background untraceable. In a city where survival was expensive, how long could he last without resources? Besides, the prototype serum he had been injected with had severe side effects. He would come crawling back, Killian was sure of it.

With that thought, Killian's confidence returned. He straightened his tie, a smug smile playing on his lips. "You lose again, Mr. Caleb," he murmured.

Meanwhile, Indra, unaware of Killian's machinations, continued on his way, unconcerned with the schemes of the broken man he had left behind.

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