Chapter Ninety-Seven: Wakanda

After several minutes of supersonic flight, Wang Jing successfully arrived at the border of Wakanda.

As soon as he landed, he was confronted by the border tribe coming to intercept him. "Hey! Iron Man, you’re not welcome here," the tribal chief shouted at Wang Jing.

"I'm here to trade, and I'm not Tony Stark!" Wang Jing replied, opening his helmet to show his face—both to express goodwill and to prove his claim.

Seeing that the person inside the armor was not the Tony Stark from the records, the tribal chief frowned slightly and said, "Whether you are Tony Stark or not, you’re not welcome here, and we don’t do business!"

"What if the trade item is Ulysses Klaue?" Wang Jing asked, then suddenly vanished from sight. When he reappeared, he was holding a man bound tightly with thick chains—none other than Ulysses Klaue, whose base Wang Jing had recently dismantled.

Seeing Klaue gagged and bound with thick iron chains, everyone from the border tribe exchanged surprised whispers.

Upon seeing the tribal chief, Klaue’s eyes widened, and he began to struggle wildly.

He knew all too well what he had done, and if he fell into the hands of the Wakandans, the rest of his life would be sheer misery.

"How did you catch him?" the tribal chief asked. The reason he was so certain the man was Klaue was because the hatred for Klaue was deeply ingrained in every Wakandan heart, so a single glance was enough for the chief to recognize the man Wang Jing held—the very Klaue they had been desperately searching for.

"What do you want to trade?" the tribal chief pondered for a moment before asking.

"Trade cooperation," Wang Jing answered.

The chief hesitated for a few seconds before saying, "That requires the king’s personal decision."

"Fine, I’ll wait here," Wang Jing replied. He then relaxed his grip, and Klaue fell face-first to the ground with a muffled grunt from hitting his nose.

The tribal chief glanced over but said nothing, turning to speak with a burly man beside him, who then walked away to deliver the message.

After his subordinate left, the chief swirled the vibranium cloak over his right shoulder and approached Wang Jing alone.

Thanks to his armor, Wang Jing’s height matched that of the chief, and the two faced each other without fear.

Finally, the chief was the first to speak: "What is your name?"

"You may call me Wang Jing."

—

"I am Wakabi, chief of the border tribe. How much do you know about Wakanda?"

"Everything. I know you use an energy shield to hide your real city. I know your king is T’Chaka, the prince is T’Challa, and the princess is Shuri, who also heads the royal tech development center."

"I also know there’s a vibranium meteorite beneath your city that you’ve been mining for over a thousand years and still haven’t finished."

"Enough. Who exactly are you, and how do you know so much about Wakanda?" Wakabi asked, his face wary.

"Don’t be nervous. I mean no harm. I’m not from this world—I come from a parallel Earth. When I disappeared earlier, I returned to my own world," Wang Jing explained.

Wakabi was so surprised by this that he didn’t know what to say—the information was overwhelming.

At that moment, the kimoyo bead on Wakabi’s wrist vibrated slightly. Though subtle, Wang Jing noticed it and glanced at the bead. "Connect it. Maybe the king has news."

Embarrassed by the reminder, Wakabi turned and activated the holographic communication.

Soon after, Wakabi ended the call and said, "The king wants to see you."

Wang Jing smiled faintly, bent down to pick up the now-silent Klaue, and followed Wakabi toward the city concealed behind the energy shield.

As they walked, Wakabi suddenly vanished ahead. Knowing it was the energy shield, Wang Jing was still amazed.

With each step forward, subtle ripples appeared where they touched the shield, though the waves faded after a few oscillations.

Just as Wang Jing was curious and wanted to watch longer, a border tribe soldier reminded him to keep up.

Inside the shield, instead of endless desert, there rose a futuristic cityscape with towering skyscrapers and flying vehicles hovering above.

Wakabi tapped a few buttons on his kimoyo bead, and a small flying craft swiftly arrived. Surrounded by attendants, Wang Jing boarded the ship.

The flight was remarkably quiet, leading Wang Jing to suspect the craft was powered by vibranium energy.

Soon, the ship landed in front of the royal palace. Wang Jing stepped off and saw two rows of royal guards standing in perfect formation, with T’Challa clad in his Black Panther suit at the front.

Despite the grand welcome, Wang Jing calmly carried Klaue off the ship.

—

Perhaps because the ships were small, or maybe intentionally, Klaue’s head repeatedly struck the ship’s threshold and steps as Wang Jing disembarked.

The pain and fear made Klaue wail pitifully.

Yet, watching this scene, T’Challa and the royal guards showed no intention of stepping forward to intervene; instead, they seemed to take cruel satisfaction in seeing Klaue so helpless he couldn’t even scream.

Reaching T’Challa, Wang Jing casually tossed Klaue aside and extended a hand with a smile. "Prince T’Challa, on behalf of the United Government, I wish to discuss mutual trade openness."

T’Challa, worthy heir to the future throne, returned the firm handshake with a kind smile. "I hope your talks with my father go well."

"Thank you," Wang Jing nodded, then glanced at Klaue writhing on the ground. "This is my gift to King T’Chaka. I hope he likes it."

"I’m sure he will," T’Challa replied politely.

After the formalities, T’Challa looked at the armor Wang Jing wore. "Weapons are forbidden inside the palace. I hope you understand."

Wang Jing nodded and controlled his armor to open from the back. He stepped out, then vanished in a flash as the armor returned to his home dimension.

The speed of this disappearance caused Okoye, captain of the royal guard behind T’Challa, to frown and signal to the other guards. Immediately, the entire guard adopted a more alert stance.

Curious, T’Challa asked, "Did you just send your armor back to your world?"

Wang Jing nodded. "Yes, and so far, I’ve established relations with eight worlds."

"Those worlds must have many fascinating stories," T’Challa said calmly.

"Indeed, some are wonderful, but others are tragic—some worlds have suffered mass human extinction, resource depletion, alien invasions, and so on."