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Under normal circumstances, if someone wanted to control Henry Brown, they would control his children, parents, or at the very least his wife in order to trust his loyalty.
But Henry was like someone who had appeared out of thin air.
No family. No relatives.
The only leverage available was a girlfriend.
And even that felt unreliable.
Could they use the "Tinkerer" identity against him?
Not really.
At a high enough level, the stains from the Tinkerer's past barely mattered. Even murder charges weren't a big deal—unless the victim was someone important.
The case that once had the best chance of destroying him was the one involving California State Assemblyman Mike Liddell Horton.
But after the FBI ran into a wall during that investigation, they quickly found a scapegoat and closed the case to appease the media.
Reopening it now would be extremely difficult.
Just like the Sony explosion case.
The FBI themselves had closed it and cut off the evidence chain.
If they reopened it, the entire Los Angeles office could be accused of dereliction of duty.
And who would volunteer for that?
Facing such a slippery opponent as Henry Brown, even a centuries-old schemer like Gitano Dragoneiti found him troublesome.
Still, spiders didn't expect prey to be caught instantly.
They simply waited for the prey to stick one leg to the web.
Then during the struggle—
another leg.
One hand.
Then both hands.
Eventually the whole body would be stuck.
A clever spider would even wrap extra silk around the prey and store it for later consumption.
And after centuries of accumulating resources, surely his clan could afford one gamble.
Acting like miserly bankers—investing one dollar to demand two back immediately—wasn't how immortals behaved.
Real vampires took risks.
And if they were cheated?
They simply killed the swindler and confiscated everything.
That was how vampires accumulated wealth.
So Dragoneiti showed no disappointment about the lack of guarantees.
He simply smiled and shifted tactics.
"Perhaps asking for your girl gave you the wrong impression," he said smoothly.
"But cooperation should benefit both sides."
"I have resources in Hollywood."
"Helping elevate your girlfriend's career would be trivial."
"Many stars already cooperate with us."
"If I told you their names, you would probably be surprised."
"This is what I meant earlier—everyone gets what they want."
"And if you personally don't feel that girl deserves heavy investment, that's fine too."
He gestured toward the hall outside.
"Anyone here you like—you can take them home."
"Male or female."
"Or perhaps a celebrity."
"Just say the name. Tomorrow she will appear wherever you want."
"Don't underestimate our power."
"The things we can accomplish are far beyond your imagination."
"Even your current boss—Tony Stark—looks like an inexperienced child from our perspective."
He leaned forward slightly.
"So go ahead."
"Tell me your wish."
"We may not be able to shout 'Abracadabra!' like a genie and grant it instantly…"
"But there are very few things we cannot accomplish."
Henry listened carefully.
Then he thought seriously for a moment before cautiously asking:
"Do you happen to have a mature, commercially viable miniature nuclear fusion technology?"
Energy crisis solved.
Dragoneiti froze.
"…Hmm."
Henry continued.
"Then how about a nuclear-powered submarine capable of diving to at least 1000 meters?"
"And I don't just want command authority."
"I want full ownership."
"And I don't accept supervision."
Great.
Now his underwater lab problem would be solved too.
Dragoneiti fell silent again.
"…Hmm..."
Compared to the fusion reactor, the submarine request was actually more realistic.
But still—
Who on earth casually owned a nuclear submarine?
Even if you somehow obtained one, you still needed:
maintenance facilities
trained crews
spare parts
nuclear safety management
Even wealthy vampire clans rarely bothered with such burdens.
At best, some owned commercial or research submarines for secret transportation routes.
But nuclear submarines?
Even if they could acquire one—
Why would they hand it to a mutant stranger?
Seeing both requests ignored, Henry lowered his expectations again.
"Fine."
"Then let's return to Hollywood."
"Give my girlfriend a lead role in a film that lands in the year's Top 10 box office."
This time Dragoneiti didn't even bother responding.
A female lead role in a big-budget movie?
Easy.
But guaranteeing Top 10 box office of the year?
You'd need a fortune teller to predict which movies would succeed.
If that were possible, Hollywood studios would never lose money.
Three requests. Three failures.
Henry had no interest in proposing a fourth.
He sighed lightly.
"Mr. Dragoneiti…"
"You're not expecting me to ask for things I could obtain myself, are you?"
"How would that demonstrate your indispensable value?"
Dragoneiti frowned slightly.
"Money. Power. Women."
"Don't those tempt you?"
Henry shrugged casually.
"They do."
"But not enough for me to pay a special price."
"I can obtain those things on my own."
"And honestly, I'm satisfied with what I already have."
"I don't have that many ambitions."
If he truly cared about those three things, this story would already be titled:
"The Kryptonian Business Empire: Crushing the World with Iron Fists."
One day beating Bill Gates.
Next day beating Warren Buffett.
Whenever bored, squeeze them like rags and drain their wealth.
While Dragoneiti showed a rare hint of difficulty—and Henry looked relaxed—
One of the vampires under Dragoneiti suddenly moved.
With lightning speed.
Before anyone could react—
He snapped a mutant power-suppressing collar around Henry's neck.
And activated it instantly.
Henry had actually noticed the movement.
But he still allowed the collar to be placed on him.
Because he wanted to see what would happen next.
Was this the will of all the vampires present?
Or merely the action of a particular faction?
Sure enough—
Compared to Henry wearing the collar,
Dragoneiti himself looked far more shocked.
Though the displeasure on his face disappeared in an instant.
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