Chapter 19: What? My Dad?!
"A solution?"
Arthur looked at Tony's face, which was filled with a desire to live despite his attempts to remain calm. He stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning forward slightly.
"Of course I have one."
"In this World, if even I can't save you, then you can go ahead and have Jarvis order a coffin for you."
"Preferably one with a sliding lid, so it's easier for you to come out for some air."
Tony: "..."
Although this guy had a sharp tongue, Tony had to admit it.
The moment he heard that affirmation, the heart that had been hanging in his throat finally settled back into his chest.
"Fine, fine, I get it, you're amazing, big guy."
Tony breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the door of his Audi R8, that billionaire swagger returning to him.
"So, tell me, what do you want?"
"Don't tell me you're doing this for love and peace, and don't say you're an Angel sent by God to save me. That's too ridiculous."
"Whether it's new armor technology or building a temple for you on the roof of Stark Tower, as long as you can solve this damn timer in my chest, I'll agree to anything."
That was Tony Stark.
Even when facing Death, he spoke as if he were negotiating a business deal.
Arthur smiled.
He liked dealing with smart people.
"What I want is very simple, Tony."
Arthur extended a finger and wagged it gently, his eyes filled with unashamed honesty.
"You know, my goals are quite simple and unpretentious."
"My greatest wish is to make a lot of money, then wake up every day in a mansion with a Hollywood actress on my left and a Victoria's Secret supermodel on my right."
"Of course."
Arthur changed his tone:
"In front of the public, I have to say it's to help them, to protect the justice of this World."
"After all, without money, how can I maintain justice? How can I give out relief funds to those suffering civilians?"
"Am I right?"
Tony listened, stunned.
He couldn't help but roll his eyes and complain:
"I actually thought everything you said earlier about the motherland and home was serious."
"Turns out you're just like those damn politicians in Washington, all for the votes and public opinion?"
"Your public persona collapsed way too fast, didn't it?"
Instead of getting angry, Arthur chuckled.
He stepped forward and adjusted Tony's collar like an old friend.
"This is America, isn't it, Tony?"
"I mean, those politicians sitting in the White House, the things they do are far more hypocritical than me."
"Their mouths are full of ideals, but their hearts are full of business."
"And isn't this land filled with exactly this kind of thing?"
"One way in public, another way behind closed doors."
Arthur patted Tony's shoulder, his tone incredibly matter-of-fact:
"Since I'm called Homelander, I should naturally inherit and promote this spirit!"
"It's a form of cultural heritage!"
Tony looked on, speechless.
Even though it sounded like something a bastard would say, if you thought about it carefully...
It actually made a damn bit of sense?
This was America!
"Fine, you win."
Tony shrugged helplessly.
Dealing with this guy who had god-like power but a mind full of worldly desires actually made him feel more at ease.
Desires were good.
Desires meant they could trade.
"Since you're being so honest, I'll be blunt too."
Tony pulled a checkbook from his pocket and, without even asking for a price, uncapped his pen.
"How much do you want? A billion? Two billion? Or do you want me to open a secret account for you in Switzerland?"
"As long as I can get this damn toxin out of my body, this is all pocket change."
However.
To Tony's surprise.
Arthur looked at the checkbook and shook his head.
"No, Tony, you've misunderstood."
"I don't want money."
"What?"
Tony's hand froze, and he looked at him as if he were a lunatic.
"Are you kidding me? You just said you wanted to make big money, and now that I'm giving it to you, you don't want it?"
"Did the lack of oxygen while flying fry your brain?"
Arthur reached out and pressed down on Tony's hand as it prepared to write a number.
"Tony, that's dead money."
"What good is a little bit of cash to me? Once it's spent, I have to earn it again."
"What I want is the hen that lays the golden eggs, a continuous stream of cash flow, high-quality assets!"
"That's how money makes more money!"
Arthur leaned in closer, showing his true colors:
"I want shares in Stark Industries."
"I want dividends."
"And, I want more original shares."
Tony was stunned for a moment, then his eyes narrowed.
Well, well.
This appetite was quite large.
But on second thought.
Without Arthur, he probably wouldn't have many days left to live anyway.
Dying with unspent money would be the ultimate tragedy.
Moreover, if he could completely tie such an absurdly powerful "human nuclear bomb" to the Stark Industries chariot...
Who would dare touch Stark Industries in the future?
S.H.I.E.L.D.? HYDRA? The Military?
They would all have to step aside!
No matter how you calculated it, this deal was a massive win!
"Fine, you're smart."
Tony put away his checkbook and gave Arthur a long, admiring look.
"You're not just a superhero; you're a born capitalist."
"I'll have Pepper draft a contract later to convert your current holdings into core shares and add an additional 10% stake for you personally."
"That's something even that bald guy Obadiah only dreams of having."
"Deal?"
"Deal!"
Arthur nodded with satisfaction.
10%!
Combined with the shares he had bought earlier at the bottom, he was now the largest individual shareholder of Stark Industries besides Tony!
In the future, even if he did nothing, the dividends alone would be enough for him to squander for several lifetimes.
This is how knowledge changes fate!
Knowing the plot felt so good!
"Alright, the money's settled. Now let's talk about my life."
Tony pointed to his chest with some urgency.
The toxins there were like a time bomb, causing him constant anxiety.
"What exactly is your solution?"
"Are you going to use that Heat Vision of yours to burn the poisoned blood out of me?"
Arthur gave a mysterious smile.
"No, nothing so violent."
"Tony, the reason you're being poisoned is that you can't find an energy core to replace the Palladium."
"You've tried every combination on the periodic table and failed, right?"
"That's right," Tony said, somewhat dejectedly. "I've tried every known element. Not a single one can replace Palladium."
"But what if..."
Arthur pointed to the sky, then to Tony's head.
"That element isn't on the periodic table?"
"What if the answer was hidden by your father, Howard Stark, in something you've seen countless times but never truly understood?"
"What?!"
Tony's whole body shook, as if he'd been struck by lightning.
"My dad?"
"How is that possible? That old man who only knew how to sell weapons..."
"Don't be so quick to deny it."
Arthur interrupted him, dropping a bombshell:
"Go back and look through the things your father left behind."
"Especially that model of the Stark Expo he left in 1974."
"It's not just a model, Tony."
"It's the key to the future he left for you."
"It is—the atomic structure of a new element."
A bolt of lightning instantly flashed through Tony's brain.
Countless fragments of memory began to reassemble.
That old model he had dismissed, the thing he had played with as a child...
"You mean... that structure..."
Tony's expression shifted from confusion to shock, and finally to wild joy!
He was a genius!
With just a little hint, he instantly grasped the key!
"Oh my god... that old bastard..."
"He actually hid a new element in there?!"
"Damn it! Why didn't I think of that!"
Tony didn't even have time to say goodbye. He turned, pulled open the car door, and jumped into the R8.
Vroom—!!!
Chapter 20: Nick, Searching for Homelander's Weakness
"Vroom—!!!"
As the roar of the V10 engine faded, Tony Stark drove that R8 away, leaving only the afterimage of its taillights in the blink of an eye.
This filthy rich guy sure runs fast.
Arthur stood in the underground garage, looking at the empty driveway.
He was still clutching the keys to that golden apollo.
"He's just gone?"
"Leaving me here all alone?"
"Is this how billionaires treat their guests?"
The corner of Arthur's mouth twitched slightly.
Although he knew Tony was in a hurry to save his own life,
this feeling of being used like a tool and then discarded still made him very unhappy.
"Forget it, for the sake of that 10% stake, Daddy forgives you."
Arthur pressed the button on the key in his hand.
Beep beep.
The headlights of that extravagantly styled, all-gold apollo supercar suddenly lit up, like an awakening golden Beast.
He had to admit, though Tony's taste was flashy, this car was truly cool.
Arthur pulled open the scissor door and sat in the driver's seat.
The leather seats provided a strong sense of enclosure, smelling of the fragrance of money.
However, just as he was about to start the car, an awkward problem arose.
"Wait..."
"Where's the party?"
Arthur was stunned.
He had been so busy acting cool and talking business that Tony only mentioned going to a party without giving him the address at all!
Where the hell was he supposed to go to have fun?
Just then, an elegant British accent suddenly came through the car's speakers.
"Good evening, Mr. Arthur."
"I am Jarvis."
"Mr. Stark has preset the navigation for you. The destination is Mr. Stark's private oceanfront Villa in Malibu."
"Specifically, the famous 10880 City of Freedom Way."
Arthur raised an eyebrow and touched the steering wheel with some surprise.
"Wow, Jarvis is even installed in this car?"
"Just how high is Tony's dependence on AI?"
"Since I know the way, that makes things easy."
Arthur floored the gas pedal.
Boom!
The engine let out a beastly roar, and the golden supercar instantly catapulted forward.
Turning into a golden lightning bolt, it rushed out of the underground garage.
Although compared to his own flight speed, this car was as slow as crawling,
this feeling of 'flying' close to the ground with the G-force pushing him back into the seat still had its own unique charm.
Especially on a night like this, having just saved the World and enjoying the spotlight.
This is the life of the Homelander!
...
Meanwhile.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters, the Triskelion.
Inside the Director's office.
Nick Fury sat behind his desk, his single eye staring intently at the computer screen in front of him.
Playing on the screen was the satellite surveillance footage of Arthur "tearing the warship apart" in space earlier.
Although the image was somewhat blurry, those two Heat Vision beams that looked like divine judgment,
and the terrifying image of him flying while standing on a nuclear missile, still made the King of Spies' scalp tingle.
"So this is... the Homelander."
Fury's finger lightly tapped the desk, his brow furrowed deeply.
This kind of power was completely beyond the control of S.H.I.E.L.D.
It couldn't even be compared to nuclear weapons.
If this Arthur was in a bad mood one day and wanted to kick the Earth like a ball...
Who could stop him?
That alien prince with the hammer? Or that green big guy who only knows how to smash things?
Probably neither.
"Director."
The office door was pushed open, and Agent Maria Hill, dressed in a tight uniform, walked in.
Her expression was equally solemn.
"The target has left Stark Tower."
Hill reported, holding a tablet:
"According to traffic surveillance, he is driving one of Tony Stark's sports cars toward Malibu."
"It looks like he's going to attend the party hosted by Stark."
Fury turned off the screen and rotated his chair, his dark face appearing even deeper in the shadows.
"He went to a party?"
"One moment he's in the Himalayas looking for that mysterious sorcerer, and the next he's back to party?"
"This guy..."
Fury felt he couldn't see through this John Gilchang at all.
He wasn't as pure as Captain America, nor as flamboyant as Tony, and certainly not as evil as Loki.
He was like a freak who possessed the power of a god but was full of worldly desires.
"Director."
Hill hesitated for a moment before asking:
"Considering the target's extreme danger, do we need to initiate the 'Countermeasure Protocols'?"
"Or... continue maintaining the highest level of surveillance?"
Though she knew the so-called "Countermeasure Protocols" might be a joke in front of this man.
Fury was silent for a few seconds, then waved his hand.
"No."
"Now is not the time."
Fury stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the night outside:
"Tony just sent me a message."
"He said this Arthur has agreed to join the Avengers."
"What?" Hill was stunned for a moment. "He agreed? On the rooftop, wasn't he still..."
"That's exactly Tony Stark's talent."
Fury snorted coldly. Although he didn't like Tony,
he had to admit that the playboy had a knack for handling interpersonal relationships—especially with 'fair-weather friends'.
"Although this doesn't mean he's one of ours,"
"at least it means he's temporarily willing to stand on our side, or rather, on Earth's side."
"As long as he doesn't go crazy, we cannot take the initiative to provoke a bull that can shatter the Earth."
Saying this, Fury turned around and picked up the black leather trench coat hanging on the rack.
"Hill, get the car ready."
"Director, where are you going?"
"Malibu."
Fury put on his sunglasses, covering that calculating single eye:
"Since it's an Avengers party, as the founder, how could I be absent?"
"And..."
Fury added in his heart.
He had to personally come into contact with this Homelander.
Not just to assess his psychological state,
but more importantly, to find...
A weakness.
All mortals have weaknesses, and gods are no exception.
As long as it's a living creature, there must be something that can restrain it.
Some kind of radiation? Some kind of substance? Or some kind of psychological defect?
If he didn't find this "Achilles' heel," if he didn't find the "Kryptonite" for him,
he, Nick Fury, would never sleep peacefully for the rest of his life!
Chapter 21: Dare to have a drink with me?
Malibu Beach, inside Stark's cliffside mansion.
The ghostly blue light of the holographic projection shone on Tony Stark's face.
He stared fixedly at the rotating atomic model in the air.
His large, caramel-colored eyes were filled with unbelievable ecstasy at this moment.
"Is this what that old guy left for me?"
Tony muttered to himself, his fingers trembling as they passed through the model of the never-before-discovered new element.
That's right!
Everything that guy named John Gilchang said was true!
Inside that damn, old-fashioned Expo model, the key to the future was truly hidden!
"Jarvis! Tell me the results of the theoretical simulation!"
"Sir, according to the preliminary deduction, this new element can completely replace the palladium element, and the energy output efficiency is more than 20 times the current level."
"Yeah!!!!"
Tony punched the air violently.
The Death countdown that had plagued him for so long, the toxin flowing in his blood, finally had a cure!
If it weren't for the fact that the current equipment still needed adjustment, he would have wanted to rush into the laboratory right now and build this thing.
"Hoo—"
Tony took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the excitement in his heart.
No rush, no rush.
Anyway, the God of Death has already been kicked out the door; tonight is a time for celebration!
"Jarvis, crank up the party music! Tonight, I'm going to drink every last drop in the wine cellar!"
...
Meanwhile, at the entrance of the Villa.
Boom—!
That golden Apollo supercar let out a low roar and stopped steadily at the entrance.
The car doors rose.
Arthur, dressed in a black suit, stepped out.
"Welcome, Mr. Arthur."
Pepper was already waiting at the door. Although her face still carried the exhaustion from the great battle, she maintained a proper smile.
"Good evening, Ms. Potts."
Arthur nodded slightly, revealing that standard Homelander-style smile—sunny, confident, and full of aggression.
"Just call me Pepper."
Pepper stepped aside to lead the way, "Tony is waiting for you inside, along with several other Avengers."
Walking into the hall of this extremely luxurious Villa.
The first thing that caught the eye was the huge floor-to-ceiling window and the pitch-black sea outside.
The hall was already filled with all kinds of expensive drinks and food.
Although the atmosphere was not exactly lively, it was still quite harmonious.
Thor, that big guy, was sitting on the sofa.
He was holding a beer mug in his hand, grinning foolishly at the news being replayed on the TV.
"Haha! Look at that hammer strike! This is the power of Asgard!"
Meanwhile, at the bar.
Natasha, in black tight-fitting casual wear, and Hawkeye Barton, who was wiping his fingers, turned their heads almost at the same time.
As top Agents, their alertness was carved into their bones.
The moment they saw Arthur walk in, both of their eyes narrowed slightly.
Although back on the top floor of Stark Tower, the atmosphere had been a bit stiff for the sake of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director's face.
But it was undeniable.
If it weren't for this man, New York today would probably have already turned into ruins.
"Hey, looks like our protagonist has arrived."
Barton stood up first and walked over with a smile.
Natasha also put down the wine glass in her hand.
Her charming eyes swept over Arthur, and then she walked over gracefully.
"Very happy to see you again, Mr. Arthur."
Natasha extended her hand, her face wearing that signature, enigmatic, charming smile:
"Or should I say... Homelander?"
Arthur looked at the fair palm extended in front of him.
He wasn't in a hurry to shake it.
His gaze unscrupulously wandered over Natasha's body.
Must say, Black Widow is indeed Black Widow.
The curves outlined by this tight-fitting suit, especially the scale of her chest, indeed possessed the capital to drive countless men crazy.
But...
Arthur sneered inwardly.
A product of the Red Room, wandering between countless men and missions.
The mileage on this car is probably higher than that of a S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet.
Too dirty.
He is Homelander, and he has a cleanliness obsession.
This kind of public bus, looking is fine, but actually wanting to eat it?
Forget it.
"Just call me John."
Arthur reached out and took Natasha's hand.
It felt slightly cool, soft, and boneless.
If one ignored the thin calluses on her palms from long-term gun use, it was indeed a beautiful pair of hands.
Arthur's fingers lightly rubbed the back of Natasha's hand.
With a hint of obvious flirtation, then he quickly let go.
"Hello, Agent."
Natasha's eyebrows raised imperceptibly.
She was a professional; this level of groping couldn't even count as a tickle to her.
But this man's gaze...
That gaze, which was smiling but filled with disdain and playfulness, made her very uncomfortable.
It was like looking at a piece of merchandise that, while exquisite, one had no intention of buying.
"And me, Clint Barton."
Hawkeye also reached out his hand, helping Natasha out of the awkward situation.
"Thanks for last time on the rooftop."
"Small matter."
Arthur replied casually, not even looking at Barton directly, his gaze still lingering on Natasha.
Barton was also a sharp person and immediately sensed that something was wrong with the atmosphere.
He said half-jokingly:
"Hey, buddy, rein in that gaze."
"Natasha is not a woman to be trifled with; be careful, or she might sneak into your room in the middle of the night and give you a shot."
"Is that so?"
Arthur laughed, completely unconcerned.
He leaned forward slightly, looking down at Natasha from a height, his voice magnetic and low:
"That would be great."
"I am someone who is best at dealing with people who are hard to deal with."
"The thornier the rose, the more interesting it is to pick, isn't it?"
Natasha crossed her arms, looking at him with a half-smile:
"Save it, big boy."
"Don't think about those useless things; in our line of work, there's no room for feelings."
"Feelings?"
Arthur acted as if he had heard some kind of joke.
He picked up a glass of champagne from the side and swirled it gently.
His eyes stared straight at Natasha's proudest assets:
"Don't misunderstand, lady."
"I wasn't thinking in that direction either."
"After all, I know that as Agents, the number of people you come into contact with... um, is indeed quite high."
Arthur paused deliberately, his tone carrying a hint of undisguised contempt:
"I just simply think that your chest..."
"Is indeed broader and more eye-catching than I imagined."
The air went silent instantly.
Barton's mouth twitched, and he awkwardly turned his head away to pretend to look at the scenery.
This wasn't just an implication; this was a direct, in-your-face insult!
Natasha's smile stiffened for a moment, and a flash of cold light crossed her eyes.
This bastard!
Not only was he mocking her past, but he was also openly sexually harassing her!
Did he really think Black Widow was a pushover?
Although she couldn't beat him in a fight, but in other aspects...
Natasha took a deep breath, and a more brilliant and charming smile blossomed on her face again.
She proactively picked up a bottle of strong vodka and walked in front of Arthur.
"It seems Mr. Arthur is not only powerful but also has a sharp tongue."
"Since you are so interested in my 'chest'..."
Natasha slammed the bottle onto the table with a crisp "bang."
She looked at Arthur provocatively:
"Then why don't we play some adult games?"
"Dare to have a drink with me?"
"This is the strongest liquor from Russia."
"Consider it an apology for your 'compliments' just now."
Want to get me drunk?
Arthur looked at that bottle of vodka and sneered inwardly.
This woman probably didn't know that, given his current physique.
Even if he drank the entire wine cellar empty, it wouldn't be any different from drinking plain water.
However...
Looking at Natasha's unyielding attitude, Arthur became interested.
"Gladly."
Arthur took the bottle and took a direct swig.
Then he flashed an extremely 'friendly' smile at Natasha:
"I hope your alcohol tolerance is as big as your chest."
Chapter 22: Bottoms Up, Whoever Falls First Is a Coward
"Are you sure?"
Arthur shook the bottle of vodka in his hand, which didn't have much left.
He looked at Natasha, his smile still maintaining that flawless, impeccable perfection.
A drinking contest with a Kryptonian?
That's just like competing with Hulk to see whose pants are of better quality—it's purely asking for humiliation.
"Of course."
Natasha rested one hand on the bar, her bodysuit outlining her breathtaking curves, and she provocatively lifted her chin:
"What, our Mr. Homelander, are you afraid of losing a drinking contest to a mere woman?"
"Ahem!"
Just then, Hawkeye Barton, who had been silent the whole time, finally couldn't hold back.
He put down the rag in his hand and stepped between the two with a headache-inducing expression, looking like an exhausted, worried father.
"I say, you two, can you calm down?"
Barton pointed at the pile of priceless furnishings around them, then at the expensive cliffside Villabeneath their feet:
"This is Tony's territory. If you two get drunk and start causing a scene..."
"Natasha, do you know how tight S.H.I.E.L.D.'s budget is right now? If that one-eyed Director Fury sees the bill, he'll absolutely dock all our pensions!"
Barton was genuinely panicked.
Natasha was one thing; at most, she'd break a few chairs.
But who was this guy in front of them?
He was a tough guy who could treat a nuclear bomb like a skateboard at the slightest disagreement!
If he got drunk, even just a drunken hiccup would probably blast this Villa into the Pacific Ocean.
"Relax, Clint."
Natasha glanced at her old partner, a flash of cunning in her eyes:
"I know my limits, and I'm also very curious to see if the so-called Man of Steel is as invulnerable in the face of alcohol."
As an Agent, she never fought an unprepared battle.
Since she couldn't conquer this man through brute force, she would try to find a breakthrough via physiological functions.
Alcohol was often the best catalyst for making a man lower his guard.
"Fine."
Barton sighed helplessly.
He knew that once this Black Widow got an idea into her head, even S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Helicarrier couldn't pull her back.
"Then I can only pray that Tony bought massive home insurance."
Arthur watched this scene, finding it amusing.
Want to get me drunk? Looking for weaknesses?
This woman's little schemes were practically written all over her face.
"Since a beautiful lady has extended such an invitation, how could I refuse?"
Arthur casually tossed the wine bottle in his hand.
"Pop!"
The bottle landed precisely in a trash can over ten meters away.
"Then let's do it."
The two walked one after the other toward the bar.
"Jarvis."
Natasha tapped the marble countertop:
"Bring out all the good stuff Tony has in his collection; don't try to fob us off with that juice-like champagne."
"Very well, Agent Romanoff."
Jarvis's magnetic British accent sounded from above:
"Based on the current cellar inventory, I recommend the Spirytus from Poland, with an alcohol content of 96%."
"Or this house-brewed, reinforced Tequila, which Mr. Stark calls Rocket Fuel."
"I want both."
Natasha waved her hand, full of bravado.
"Zzzzt."
The mechanical arm behind the bar operated rapidly, placing several bottles of strong liquor, even the labels of which exuded a dangerous aura, onto the counter.
Watching that liquid, which was almost indistinguishable from pure alcohol, Barton's mouth twitched.
This is drinking? This is damn well risking your life!
"Hahahaha! Looks like there's some fun competition going on here?"
Just then, a hearty, thunderous laugh came from the sofa area.
Thor was carrying that empty beer mug, striding over.
His blonde hair was a bit messy, and his face had a tipsy flush; he looked to be in high spirits.
"A drinking contest?"
Thor slammed the mug onto the bar, his eyes burning with Asgardian competitiveness:
"In Midgard, I have yet to meet an opponent who can outdrink me."
"Count me in!"
Arthur shrugged, looking indifferent.
"I don't mind; the more the merrier."
Natasha, however, looked at Thor with some disdain.
"Big guy, drink if you want, but no one here is going to play the'smash the mug' game with you."
"Ha! That's for celebration!"
Thor didn't care at all. He looked at Arthur, a hint of fighting spirit in his eyes:
"We didn't get a chance to fight in the sky earlier, but now, at the drinking table, I must win it back!"
"In Asgard, my tolerance is something even Volstagg has to bow down to!"
Watching this increasingly out-of-control scene, Barton felt his scalp tingle.
A super Agent with abnormal physical fitness.
An alien Thor with superhuman constitution.
And a Man of Steel who was even more ridiculously strong.
These three guys gathering together for a drinking contest was practically a disaster scene.
"I'm in too."
Barton sighed and sat down at the bar.
"What?"
Natasha looked at him with some surprise.
"Why are you joining the fun?"
"Can't help it."
Barton smiled bitterly and spread his hands, taking a glass from the mechanical arm:
"You're all drinking, wouldn't it be boring if I didn't join?"
Of course, this was also a matter of male pride.
Even if I'm not good at fighting, when it comes to drinking...
I, Clint Barton, am at least a famous alcoholic at S.H.I.E.L.D.!
If worse comes to worst, I'll just drink all the alcohol here so you guys can't compete anymore.
"Interesting."
Arthur watched this group of fired-up Avengers, his smile deepening.
He picked up the bottle of Spirytus, not even bothering to use a glass, and poured himself a full cup.
The transparent liquid rippled in the glass, emitting a pungent smell of alcohol.
"Since everyone is in such high spirits."
Arthur raised his glass and looked around:
"Let's skip the formalities."
"Bottoms up; whoever falls first is a coward, how about that?"
"Good!"
Thor was the first to respond. Not wanting to be outdone, he grabbed a bottle of Tequila and poured it into his glass.
"For the glory of Asgard!"
Natasha gritted her teeth, a fierce look flashing in her emerald eyes.
"I'm in to the end!"
"Cheers!"
"Clink!"
Four glasses collided in the air, making a crisp sound.
Immediately after.
"Gulp, gulp."
Without any hesitation, the four of them tilted their heads back and downed the strong liquor that was enough to burn through their throats.
The moment Barton drank it, his face turned red, and he felt as if his whole body was on fire, baring his teeth and gasping for air.
"Cough, cough... This stuff... is really potent!"
Natasha, on the other hand, remained composed, her eyes only glazing over for a split second before regaining clarity.
This was the resistance trained into her by the Red Room; to her, alcohol was not much different from water.
Thor laughed loudly and wiped the liquor from his mouth:
"Refreshing! Now this is what you call liquor!"
Only Arthur remained.
He put down his empty glass, his face not even flushing.
That 96% Spirytus entered his body and was instantly broken down into water and carbon dioxide by his super metabolic system.
It didn't even have time to produce a single calorie of heat.
"Is that it?"
Arthur smacked his lips, looking at the empty glass with some disdain:
"The taste is average; it's a bit like industrial alcohol diluted with water."
"Jarvis, bring more!"
"I want to drink a barrel!"
As soon as these words were spoken, the whole place went silent.
Barton looked at Arthur's calm and indifferent demeanor, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.
A barrel?
Are you drinking this stuff like it's cola?
[Ding! Detected Hawkeye doubting his life, popularity points + 60!]
[Ding! Detected Black Widow deeply struck, popularity points + 80!]
"Great tolerance!"
Thor's eyes lit up, as if he had found a kindred spirit, and he cheered loudly:
"Worthy of the man who can ride a nuclear bomb! Is your stomach also made of steel?"
"Come! I'm in too!"
Thor, not wanting to be outdone, poured another glass and downed it again.
"I'm in too!"
Natasha's competitive spirit was thoroughly ignited; she refused to believe this man's body structure was truly made of iron.
Another glass went down.
Barton looked at these two lunatics, then at Arthur beside him, who was drinking as if it were water.
He gritted his teeth and stomped his foot.
"Damn it, I'm in!"
He also downed a glass.
However, this was just the beginning.
The mechanical arm worked tirelessly, filling glass after glass.
Arthur was like a bottomless pit, accepting everything, and even drinking faster and faster.
Although Thor had a divine body, he couldn't handle this method of drinking, and his eyes were already beginning to drift.
A flush appeared on Natasha's cheeks, and her eyes became somewhat unfocused, but she still stubbornly refused to admit defeat.
As for Barton...
He had already slumped on the bar counting stars.
Just as Arthur picked up the fourth bottle of vodka, preparing to drink straight from the bottle.
"Ding!"
The sound of the elevator door opening rang out.
Tony Stark, dressed in casual clothes with still-damp hair, walked up from the laboratory below.
He had clearly just taken a shower and was holding a towel to dry his hair.
He looked up and saw the lively scene at the bar.
The table was full of empty wine bottles, and there was a figure in a black suit holding a bottle and drinking wildly, along with three teammates swaying unsteadily nearby.
"Whoa..."
Tony whistled, tossed the towel aside, and approached with an interested expression.
"This party looks pretty lively."
"What are you guys doing? Drinking so enthusiastically?"
Tony walked over to Arthur, looked at the bottle in his hand that was already bottoming out, and raised an eyebrow:
"Mind if I join you?"
"Just my luck, I just solved a big problem, and I'm in a great mood right now."
Arthur put down the wine bottle and let out a burp full of the smell of alcohol.
He turned his head, looked at the expectant Tony, and revealed that signature, extremely "kind" smile:
"Of course, Tony."
"But let's get this straight first."
"Don't vomit on my suit later."
Chapter 23: Better Late Than Never, Nick Fury
Tony Stark reached out and took the glass that still bore Arthur's fingerprints.
He casually picked up the bottle of liquor and glanced at the label.
Tony's hand trembled slightly.
He took another look at the homemade tequila next to it, marked with a skull and crossbones.
Below it was a line of small print: 'Recommended for use as Rocket booster fuel.'
"What the fuck?"
Tony slammed the bottle down heavily on the bar, looking at the people in front of him with an expression that said they were all insane:
"You call this drinking? This is a goddamn group suicide pact!"
"I usually use ethanol of this purity to clean the spark plugs on my Mark armor!"
As he spoke, he pointed at Hawkeye Barton, who was slumped motionless over the bar like a dead fish.
"See? That's a cautionary tale right there."
"That's the fate of an ordinary human challenging chemical limits."
By now, Barton was completely blacked out.
He was still mumbling incoherently, things like "I can't go on" or "One more cup."
Beside him, Thor Odinson was still sitting, but even his divine eyes were starting to spin.
"Ha... this kick... is strong!"
Thor let out a belch tinged with electric sparks, his words slurring:
"On Midgard... this is the first time... someone's made me see two moons..."
Only Arthur and Natasha were still standing.
Arthur's complexion was rosy, his eyes clear, and he even elegantly adjusted his cuff.
This amount of alcohol was really no different from mouthwash to him.
In contrast, Natasha.
The battle-hardened female Agent, though still maintaining her standing posture.
Her charming face was now red as a ripe apple, the stubborn glint in her eyes slowly being devoured by drunkenness.
"Can you still drink, Agent Romanoff?"
Arthur shook the empty bottle in his hand, wearing that infuriatingly kind smile:
"You seem a bit unsteady. Do you need a hand?"
"Or you can admit defeat?"
"Don't even think about it..."
Natasha gritted her teeth, her hand braced against the bar.
"Again... I can still drink..."
"Enough, enough!"
Tony couldn't stand it any longer.
He stepped between them, waving his hands:
"What the hell is going on with you two?"
"Today is our victory celebration, not a game of Russian roulette!"
Tony looked at Arthur, his face full of helplessness:
"Buddy, you too, why pick a fight with a beautiful woman?"
"She's an Agent, she has her pride."
Arthur innocently spread his hands, wearing an 'I'm just along for the ride' expression:
"Heaven is my witness, Tony."
"This lovely lady insisted on challenging me to a drinking contest. You know, as Homelander, I never refuse a lady's enthusiastic invitation."
"Even if the invitation is a bit... lethal."
"Who... who likes drinking with you!"
Fueled by the alcohol, Natasha glared fiercely at Arthur.
Her eyes were full of gunpowder, as if she wanted to pull out a gun and empty a clip into him.
"Alright, alright, both of you, pipe down."
Tony felt a headache coming on.
If this kept up, and these two human weapons started drunkenly rampaging...
Who would he turn to if they tore apart his newly repaired Villa?
That black egg?
"Jarvis! Get all this industrial alcohol out of here!"
Tony snapped his fingers and commanded:
"Replace it with juice! Freshly squeezed! The kind with vitamin C!"
*Whirr, whirr, whirr.*
Robotic arms quickly went to work, storing all the dangerous spirits deep in the liquor cabinet.
In their place appeared several glasses of brightly colored mixed juice.
Natasha looked at the orange juice in front of her, shooting Tony a slightly reproachful glance.
But she knew there was no point in continuing.
Because the man in front of her hadn't changed one bit.
"Hmph."
Natasha snorted coldly, picked up her juice, and swayed as she turned and walked towards the outdoor pool.
Her retreating figure carried a hint of fleeing in defeat.
"What could I do?"
Watching Natasha leave, Arthur shrugged at Tony, looking innocent:
"You saw it, I was just playing along with her act."
"Seems she flubbed her lines."
Seeing the alcohol taken away, Thor looked bored and waved a hand:
"Forget it, forget it. Midgard's liquor is strong, but there are too many rules."
With that, the big guy plopped back onto the sofa and went back to watching TV.
Tony picked up a glass of chlorophyll juice, looking at Arthur with a headache:
"Listen, major shareholder, you show up and immediately get into it with Natasha like this."
"If they all pass out drunk later, how am I supposed to keep this party going?"
"I didn't plan on inviting just these few people."
Arthur chuckled, reaching up to adjust his tie:
"So they're drunk, so what?"
"True warriors can dance even in their dreams."
"And besides..."
Arthur pointed towards the door, his ear twitching slightly, a knowing smile spreading across his face:
"I think your cavalry has arrived."
"Huh?"
Tony was momentarily stunned, then his eyes lit up as if remembering something.
"You mean..."
Before he could finish his sentence.
The Villa's front door swung open.
A wave of fragrant perfume wafted in.
A group of stunningly hot, scantily clad blondes, clicking in on high heels, chattered excitedly as they poured inside.
It was the cover model squad from *Maxim* magazine!
A full dozen of them!
"Surprise!"
Tony spread his arms wide, the gloom on his face completely gone, replaced by the smug grin of a top-tier playboy:
"Now *this* is a party!"
"What do you think, Homelander? My taste isn't bad, right?"
Arthur looked at the wave of curvaceous women, all batting their eyelashes at him wildly, and the corners of his mouth shot up.
Not bad!
Not bad at all!
*This* was the life he wanted!
All that fighting and killing was so boring; *this* was the treatment a superhero deserved!
"You're the man, Tony."
Arthur gave a thumbs-up, praising sincerely:
"When it comes to aesthetics, you've really got it nailed down."
"Damn right I do!"
Tony lifted his chin proudly, then snapped his fingers:
"Jarvis! Let the music play! Let the dancing begin!"
"Turn off that godawful jazz, put on the sickest EDM you've got!"
Pulsing music instantly blasted through the room, and colorful lights began to flash.
The blondes shrieked and rushed onto the dance floor, starting to gyrate wildly to the beat.
The previously lifeless Villa instantly transformed into a top-tier nightclub.
Even Thor, sprawled on the sofa, was jolted awake by the commotion.
He opened his eyes, took in the scene, and his jaw dropped.
"Oh! By the All-Father!"
Thor slapped his thigh and stood up excitedly:
"Your mortal revelry is almost on par with my father's feasts in the Heavenly Palace!"
"Now *this* is the treatment a warrior deserves!"
With that, the big guy forgot all about being a god and charged straight into the crowd of women.
Arthur and Tony exchanged a glance, sharing a knowing smile.
"Shall we?"
"Let's go!"
The two of them slid onto the dance floor, one after the other.
With his handsome face and the explosive physique his suit couldn't quite conceal,
Arthur instantly attracted two or three of the boldest women.
Surrounded by the chirping, fluttering beauties, Arthur felt utterly content.
To hell with S.H.I.E.L.D., to hell with aliens!
Tonight, he was the Malibu Dance King!
Time flew by amidst the alcohol and music.
Before they knew it, an hour had passed.
Just as the party reached its peak,
the Villa's front door opened once more.
This time, it wasn't beauties who entered.
It was a bald head, gleaming darkly even under the flashing lights.
Nick Fury, clad in his perennial black leather trench coat, stood in the doorway. Better late than never.
Chapter 24: Avengers Code of Conduct
Nick Fury stood at the doorway, his one eye scanning the chaotic, wild party scene.
The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, perfume, and hormones.
Natasha, that crazy woman, was currently sitting on a lounge chair by the pool, staring blankly at the moon in the sky, lost in thought.
Barton was slumped over the bar, his hand still gripping an empty glass tightly, twitching occasionally to prove he was still alive.
As for Thor... that guy was holding a giant beer barrel, struggling against two speakers taller than himself, trying to make out what the heavy metal rock music was actually singing.
"It seems I've come at a bad time." Fury adjusted his trench coat collar and strode inside.
Behind him, Dr. Bruce Banner followed, looking somewhat uneasy. He pushed up his glasses, looking at the extravagant scene, feeling like he didn't know where to put his hands and feet.
"Director, I don't think this kind of occasion... is really suitable for us." Banner whispered, "Especially you. You know, with your face here, it's like a strict headmaster suddenly showing up at a Halloween party."
Fury's black face twitched.
"Get used to it, Dr.," Fury replied expressionlessly. "In this World, someone always has to be the bad guy who ruins the fun."
The two walked one after the other through the crowd, arriving at the edge of the dance floor.
In the center of the dance floor, Tony Stark was holding a hot blonde, dancing wildly to the music.
When Fury walked by, Tony's gaze clearly swept over him.
But the next second, that guy acted as if he had seen thin air, turning his head directly. He even deliberately increased the intensity of his movements, loudly flirting with the blonde.
"Hey! Baby! Your dance moves are even more flexible than my armor!"
Fury: "..."
"Tony!" Fury shouted.
No response.
"Stark!" Fury raised his volume.
Still no response.
Tony even leaned his ear toward the blonde's lips and shouted, "What did you say? The music is too loud, I can't hear you!"
Beside him, Banner felt so embarrassed he wanted to crawl into a hole.
It was too awkward.
This blatant disregard was like rubbing oil on Fury's bald black head.
"Childish." Fury snorted coldly, no longer seeking to embarrass himself.
His gaze moved past Tony to the other side of the dance floor.
There, Arthur was embracing women on both sides, his two large hands roaming quite dishonestly over the waists of two cover models.
A brilliant smile hung on his handsome face, enjoying this imperial treatment.
"Arthur!" This time Fury didn't shout, but walked straight over, his one eye staring fixedly at him.
Arthur, who was enjoying life, paused.
He slowly turned his head, looking at that bald head reflecting under the lights.
The smile at the corner of his mouth retracted slightly, but the disdain in his eyes was not hidden in the slightest.
"Tsk." Arthur cursed inwardly.
This black bald guy was like a sticking plaster, he was everywhere.
He let go of the two beauties in his arms and patted their... well, bouncy parts.
"Be good, go play over there for a while, brother will come find you later."
After saying that, he adjusted his slightly messy suit and walked up to Fury, looking down at him.
"Yo, isn't this our Director?"
Arthur picked up a glass of wine, not intending to hand it to Fury, but took a sip himself:
"What? Does S.H.I.E.L.D. not work overtime at night?"
"Or is it..." Arthur's eyes turned cold:
"You still haven't given up on that stupid assessment plan?"
"If it's still for that, you can get lost right now."
"My patience is limited, Fury."
Fury was not deterred.
He shook his head, his tone still steady:
"It's not for that."
"Then what is it for?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"I want to talk to you alone." Fury pointed to the balcony nearby.
Arthur glanced over, then looked at Fury's face, which was written with "this is important."
"Fine." Arthur shrugged.
He casually pointed to two other blondes on the dance floor and said to Banner, who was standing awkwardly to the side:
"Hey, Bruce, these two are yours."
"Don't be polite, enjoy yourself."
Banner: "???"
Before Banner could refuse, the two enthusiastic ladies were already clinging to him like octopuses.
"Oh! Is this the big guy who transforms? He's so solid!"
"He looks so cute when he's shy!"
Banner's face instantly turned as red as a monkey's butt.
He thought of Betty, who was far away, and felt the soft sensation on his arms.
The guilt and instinctive agitation were fighting wildly.
In the end, he could only be passively pulled into the dance floor by the two beauties, twisting stiffly.
...
On the balcony.
The sea breeze was cool.
Arthur leaned on the railing, looking at the pitch-black sea below, swirling his wine glass.
"Speak, what is it?"
"Don't tell me you're here to borrow money from me."
Fury stood beside him, not looking at the sea, but at Arthur's profile.
"The assessment matter is cancelled." Fury said:
"Tony told me you have agreed to join the Avengers."
"That's right." Arthur nodded and said matter-of-factly:
"After all, I am a superhero full of justice, how could such an organization protecting Earth be without me?"
Hearing this, Nick looked at him:
"Since you have joined, as a member of the Avengers, we need to let the public know."
"Tomorrow morning, S.H.I.E.L.D. will arrange a press conference for you."
"To officially announce your identity."
Arthur's eyes lit up.
This black bald guy is quite sensible!
Isn't this just sending him popularity points?
"That's exactly my intention." Arthur snapped his fingers, his smile becoming more sincere:
"It seems we do have a common language, Director."
"However..." Fury changed the subject, his tone becoming serious:
"Apart from that, I have only one request."
"Since you have worn this badge and enjoyed this honor, you must abide by the rules of this World."
"What rules?" Arthur narrowed his eyes.
Fury took a document from his pocket and handed it over.
"This is the 'Avengers Code of Conduct.'"
"There are many clauses in it, but there are only two core ones."
"First, before any large-scale operation, you must notify S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Second..." Fury stared intently at Arthur's eyes and said word by word:
"If you can avoid killing, don't kill."
"I know you have the ability to turn enemies into ash, but we are law enforcers, not executioners."
"If you burn every criminal to ash, it will be very difficult for me to explain to the Security Council."
"It will even cause public panic."
"Subdue, understand? We want them subdued."
Arthur took the document, didn't even glance at it, and tossed it onto the table to the side.
"Is that it?" He smiled disdainfully.
"No problem." Arthur agreed quickly:
"I am the most law-abiding person."
"As long as those criminals behave, I am of course happy to send them to prison."
"But if I encounter those heinous, irredeemable scumbags."
"Then I won't be able to control my eyes."
"At that time, don't blame me for not giving you a heads-up."
Fury gave him a deep look.
"If that happens, you'd better report it to me in advance."
"So I can have the PR department prepare the drafts."
"OK." Arthur made a gesture, looking relaxed:
"Anything else? If not, I'm going back."
"The beauties over there are waiting for me to save them."
Fury shook his head: "Nothing else."
"See you then."
Arthur turned and left, not even taking the document.
Watching the dashing retreating figure, Fury let out a long sigh.
He felt his headache getting worse.
This guy, he agreed nicely enough.
But that nonchalant attitude was practically writing "I don't care about you" on his face.
"I hope you don't cause any big trouble that I can't clean up..."
Fury rubbed his temples.
He felt that his job as Director was becoming more and more stifling.
...
This night was destined to be a sleepless one.
But for Arthur, this was an extremely pleasant night.
Fine wine, music, and...
The next morning.
Sunlight spilled through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows into the luxurious master bedroom.
The large velvet bed was a mess.
Arthur opened his eyes and stretched lazily.
His bones made a popping sound.
This is the physique of a Kryptonian; even after three hundred rounds last night.
He was still full of energy the next day, feeling like he could go another round.
He glanced to his side.
Two blonde beauties were curled up in the quilt, sleeping soundly, with faint red marks on their exposed fair skin.
"Heh, the physique of mortals." Arthur shook his head, looking proud.
Just then.
"Mr. Arthur."
The invisible speakers in the room suddenly broadcasted Jarvis's voice, which gave Arthur a start.
"Although I really don't want to disturb your rest."
"But Mr. Stark asked me to remind you."
"There is only half an hour left until the press conference S.H.I.E.L.D. has prepared for you."
"If you don't want to be late, I suggest you get up now."
"Also, Ms. Potts is waiting outside the door."
"Holy shit?!" Arthur sat up abruptly.
The press conference!
That was a great opportunity for him to reap popularity points across the U.S.!
If he was late, how many popularity points would he lose?
"Damn it! Why didn't anyone wake me up earlier!"
Arthur instantly sprang up from the bed, putting on the suit he didn't know where he had thrown last night at a speed incomprehensible to ordinary people.
Before leaving.
He glanced at the two beauties still sleeping on the bed.
He leaned down and kissed them gently on their foreheads.
"Goodbye, sweethearts."
"Homelander is going to save the World!"
Chapter 25: This Is the Real Homelander!
Arthur pushed open the door, and Pepper was already waiting in the hallway.
She held a tablet in her hand, rapidly processing the mountain of emails from Stark Industries.
Hearing the door open, Pepper looked up and flashed a professional smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Arthur."
"Tony is already waiting for you in the garage, and his patience... well, you know how it is."
Arthur shrugged and straightened the slightly wrinkled collar of his suit.
"That wealthy jerk is always so impatient."
"Let's go, let us save the World... or rather, let us save that damned press conference."
The two walked all the way to the underground garage.
Tony was sitting in his flashy Audi R8 convertible, wearing sunglasses, his fingers tapping impatiently on the steering wheel.
Seeing Arthur sauntering over, Tony took off his sunglasses and rolled his eyes.
"Whoa, look who it is?"
"Has our Sleeping Beauty finally woken up?"
Tony pointed to the priceless Patek Philippe on his wrist:
"Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"The press conference starts in twenty minutes, and we are still half a Manhattan away from the Plaza Hotel!"
"Get into that Apollo! Your new uniform is already waiting for you over there!"
Arthur yawned, looking completely indifferent.
"What's the rush?"
"The protagonist always arrives last, doesn't he?"
Although he said that, he still pulled open the door of the golden Apollo next to him and got in.
The feeling of being enveloped by the leather seats was still as comfortable as ever.
Just then, Pepper handed over a thick document.
"Director Nick Fury asked me to pass this on to you."
Pepper's expression was somewhat subtle:
"He said this is the 'Avengers Code of Conduct' and insisted that you read it before the press conference begins."
"Especially the chapter on 'Maintaining Public Image'."
Arthur took the document, not even bothering to open the cover.
"Code of Conduct?"
He scoffed and carelessly tossed the thick document onto the passenger side floor mat.
"This paper is too stiff even for wiping my ass; save it for that one-eyed dragon to read himself."
"My rules are the rules."
Vroom!
The engine roared.
The golden supercar shot out like an arrow from a string, following closely behind Tony's Audi.
...
Half an hour later.
Manhattan, Plaza Hotel.
The hotel entrance was already packed solid.
Cameras with long and short lenses filled the entire square, and reporters from all over the World were fighting tooth and nail to secure a good spot.
On the perimeter, tens of thousands of fanatical fans had gathered.
They held signs printed with "Homelander" and "Superman," chanting slogans.
The time for the press conference had arrived.
But Homelander, the protagonist, was nowhere to be seen.
To prevent the situation from spiraling out of control, S.H.I.E.L.D. had no choice but to push that centenarian out.
On stage.
Captain America Steve Rogers, wearing that classic blue, white, and red uniform, stood before the microphone with a righteous expression.
"Ahem."
Captain America cleared his throat, his resolute face filled with sincerity:
"The victory in the Battle of New York is not just the victory of the Avengers."
"It is the victory of all humanity uniting as one to fight against a common enemy!"
"We have proven that as long as we hold justice in our hearts, even an alien legion cannot break our will!"
A burst of enthusiastic applause and cheers erupted from the audience.
It must be said that Captain America is truly professional when it comes to inspiring people.
Fortunately, he was busy helping S.H.I.E.L.D. clear post-war debris yesterday and didn't attend the party. Otherwise, there wouldn't even be anyone on stage today who could speak.
Just as Captain America was still on stage delivering a speech about freedom and courage.
Backstage entrance.
Two luxury cars screeched to a halt, stopping steadily.
Tony and Arthur pushed open their doors and got out.
Nick Fury, who had been waiting for a long time, walked up with a dark expression.
That single eye stared fixedly at Arthur, as if he wanted to eat him alive.
"You guys finally made it!"
Fury roared in a low voice:
"Five more minutes and this press conference would have turned into Captain America's personal talk show!"
"Do you have any idea how many eyes are watching from outside right now?"
Tony took off his sunglasses and pointed innocently at Arthur next to him:
"Don't look at me, blame this guy for sleeping in."
"You know how it is, young people always have a rich nightlife."
Arthur straightened his suit, showing not a hint of apology, and instead turned the tables:
"How is this my fault?"
"If you had let me fly over directly, I would have arrived long ago."
"It was this tin man who insisted on driving, talking about enjoying the pleasure of driving."
"And what happened? Why didn't he talk about pleasure when we were stuck on the Brooklyn Bridge?"
Tony rolled his eyes, too lazy to argue with this unreasonable guy.
"Alright, alright, hurry up and go change!"
Fury waved his hand impatiently and summoned a few staff members:
"Take him to the dressing room! Make it quick!"
Surrounded by staff, Arthur arrived at his exclusive dressing room.
As soon as he entered.
He saw that brand-new uniform hanging in the center of the room.
It was the one Tony had Jarvis rush to make overnight.
A deep blue high-polymer material bodysuit, with a faint metallic luster flowing across its surface.
On the shoulders were pure gold eagle epaulets, shining brilliantly under the lights.
The huge golden "A" on the chest was even more imposing.
And what satisfied Arthur the most.
Was the long red cape printed with the Stars and Stripes pattern.
"Tsk tsk tsk."
Arthur reached out and stroked the cool texture of the battle suit, unable to hide the fanaticism in his eyes.
"Now that's right."
"This is the kind of style Homelander should have!"
Compared to the slightly cheap-looking original uniform.
This set produced by Tony was top-tier in both material and design!
Without any hesitation.
Arthur took off his suit and put on the battle suit.
The moment he was fully dressed and stood in front of the full-length mirror.
His entire aura changed instantly.
He was no longer the refined scumbag in a suit.
But a true god among men!
Man of Steel! Plus Homelander!
"Perfect."
Arthur looked at himself in the mirror, his lips curling into an extremely confident smile.
Pushing open the dressing room door.
Arthur strode toward the makeup room.
Although he didn't need makeup given his skin condition, going through the motions was still necessary.
However.
The moment he pushed open the door to the makeup room.
The female makeup artists who had been chatting away instantly fell silent.
"Sss—"
Immediately after, there was a collective gasp of air.
Those makeup artists, who were used to seeing big stars and celebrities, all covered their mouths, their eyes wide open.
So handsome!
So oppressive!
That overwhelming aura of masculinity was enough to make one's legs go weak!
[Detected extreme shock and admiration from the makeup artists, popularity points +100!]
Arthur enjoyed this kind of attention.
He walked straight to the makeup mirror and sat down.
Looking at the dazzling blond hair in the mirror, and the two arrogant and confident golden eagle heads on his shoulders.
He tilted his head slightly and flashed a "friendly" smile at himself in the mirror.
"This is the real Homelander!"
Chapter 26: Homelander Officially Joins the Avengers!
John Gilchang slowly stood up from the chair in the dressing room.
He faced the mirror, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.
"This level should be enough to make that crowd outside go crazy, right?"
Arthur straightened the heavy red cape behind him, printed with the Stars and Stripes pattern.
The cape draped to the floor, swaying slightly with his movements; every fold exuded the fragrance of a savior.
He stepped toward the backstage lounge.
Nick Fury, who was waiting somewhat anxiously, heard the footsteps and subconsciously turned his head.
In that instant, the king of Agents, who wouldn't even blink in the face of the God of Death, had his single eye constrict strangely.
His lips parted slightly, and the words he originally wanted to use to urge him along got stuck in his throat; he just stared blankly at the Arthur who walked out.
The Black Braised Egg was frantically greeting God in his heart.
"Fuck..." Fury cursed in a low voice.
"Wow—!!"
Beside him, Tony Stark let out a loud whistle, and his legs, which were originally resting on the armrest, were suddenly pulled back.
Tony circled Arthur twice, his eyes filled with self-indulgent amazement:
"Jarvis, did you see that? This is what you call a genius's aesthetic!"
"I knew it—Stark Industries' tailoring combined with my design inspiration; only this level of handsomeness is worthy of my major shareholder."
Pride flickered in Tony's caramel-colored eyes.
[Ding! Detected Nick Fury is extremely shocked, popularity points +100!]
[Ding! Detected Tony Stark's narcissism has exploded, popularity points +100!]
[Ding! Everyone backstage has been struck by the dimensionality-reducing blow of his looks, popularity points +100! +100!...]
Hearing the notifications chiming in his mind, the smile on Arthur's face became increasingly benevolent.
He nodded slightly to Tony:
"Thanks, Tony. Your craftsmanship is indeed good."
"Alright, since the protagonist has arrived."
Nick Fury forcibly regained his aura as the Director.
"Captain, you can end that boring old man's speech. The stage is his now."
Meanwhile, at the front stage.
Steve Rogers was somewhat awkwardly adjusting the height of the microphone.
To be honest, if he were asked to charge with his shield, he wouldn't even blink.
But making him chatter in front of these flashing lights made him feel like an outdated theater actor.
Fury's instructions came through the earpiece.
Captain America felt relieved; he took a deep breath, and his resolute voice spread across the square:
"Everyone, in that desperate battle yesterday, you must have seen a stream of light tearing through the darkness."
"Some say he is a god, others say he is Superman. But today, he has a name that belongs to this land, and to every one of you!"
Captain America stepped aside, elegantly gesturing toward the backstage exit with his right hand, his tone solemn and passionate:
"Let us welcome—the Guardian of New York, Homelander!"
The entire hotel square erupted!
The wave of screams was almost enough to lift the roof off the hotel.
Tens of thousands of people pushed frantically against the police lines, and countless phones and cameras all locked onto that exit at this moment.
Arthur stepped out.
At that moment, the sunlight seemed to have a spirit of its own, plating a sacred border onto his golden hair.
The heavy cape billowed backward under the airflow, the Stars and Stripes pattern snapping in the Manhattan wind.
He slowly walked onto the stage.
Every step on the red carpet felt like stepping on the heartstrings of his followers.
In the press section below the stage, a white-haired woman wearing a black slip dress with an incredibly hot body was nonchalantly shaking the admission ticket in her hand.
She was Felicia Hardy, the most dangerous and charming little cat in this jungle.
Originally, she had only come to scout out a few unlucky rich guys to see if she could swipe a few large diamond rings.
But when that figure appeared in her field of vision, the admission ticket in Felicia's hand dropped with a "snap" next to her high heels.
Her wild eyes widened, and her heart felt as if it had been struck hard.
"My God... this man..."
Felicia murmured to herself, her tongue subconsciously pressing against the roof of the mouth.
She had seen countless handsome faces, but she had never seen such a domineering beauty, so full of dominance.
That sun-like gentleness made the blood throughout her body scream.
[Ding! Detected Felicia Hardy is extremely moved, providing high-quality popularity points +200!]
Arthur's sharp gaze swept through the crowd.
Felicia? Black Cat?
Tsk, this little wild cat's gaze is certainly fervent enough.
He quietly withdrew his gaze and walked to the center of the podium.
Captain America looked at the approaching Arthur, felt the overwhelming pressure, and subconsciously handed over the microphone.
At this moment, he suddenly had an illusion:
In front of this man, his own uniform, which represented the honor of the old era, actually seemed a bit faded.
The Homelander before him seemed more like the incarnation of a nation than he did.
Arthur took the microphone but didn't speak immediately.
He just stood there, facing the tens of thousands of people, and gave that most lethal smile.
The originally noisy screams of the crowd miraculously quieted down quickly under the sweep of his single gaze.
This was a pure and ultimate idol charisma.
"Good morning, New York."
Arthur's voice echoed in everyone's ears through the amplification equipment, gentle yet magnetic.
"I know that everyone experienced an unprecedented nightmare yesterday."
He looked down at his palm, a hint of faint sadness in his tone—that acting was enough to sweep the Oscars:
"Many people asked me, 'Homelander, why did you fly into space while stepping on a nuclear bomb? Was it worth it? Weren't you afraid of death?'"
The crowd below held their breath.
Arthur raised his head slightly, the Stars and Stripes cape spreading behind him, his gaze becoming incredibly deep and firm:
"I want to tell you. I didn't do it to receive applause here, nor to show how powerful I am."
"I did it simply because behind me is my home, my motherland, and you—the most lovely people on this land!"
"I once swore that as long as I, Homelander, am still flying, the dignity of this land will not be trampled upon! Your safety is the only meaning of my existence!"
He suddenly clenched his fist, the golden eagle-head epaulettes gleaming in the sun:
"Some call me a hero, but I prefer you to see me as your family. I will always, always put the American people first in my heart!"
A mountain-shaking roar of cheers instantly exploded!
"Homelander—!!!"
"Homelander—!!!"
Those citizens who were still worried about post-war reconstruction were now frantically waving their arms.
Some shouted through tears, while others knelt on the ground in prayer.
[Ding! popularity points +1000! +2000! +5000!... popularity points are skyrocketing!]
As Arthur watched his popularity points soar, the sense of satisfaction almost made it impossible for him to maintain the smile on his face.
Yes, that's it.
Have blind faith in me, worship me! The more fanatical you are, the more invincible I become!
Just then.
Tony Stark, dressed in casual clothes and holding a microphone, strode over to Arthur's side.
Tony looked at the crowd below who were about to go crazy and provocatively winked in the direction where Nick Fury was.
He put his arm around Arthur's shoulder (though it was a bit of a struggle due to the height difference).
He announced loudly to all the cameras:
"Since everyone is so enthusiastic, I'll strike while the iron is hot and announce something!"
Tony pointed to the shiny golden "A" on Arthur's chest:
"John Gilchang, also known as your Homelander, from today onwards, officially becomes a core member of the Avengers!"
"Together, we will fight to the end to defend this Planet and to defend America!"
The whole place erupted again.
The flashing lights merged into a vast white ocean.
Arthur's face, with its perfect smile, was completely frozen as the cover of Time Magazine.
Standing in the crowd, Felicia Hardy pushed forward with force, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes staring obsessively at the man on the stage.
"Homelander joining the Avengers..."
She quietly calculated in her heart:
"It seems necessary to pay a visit to this handsome blond guy."
Chapter 27: God Bless America
"God bless America."
After uttering this highly inflammatory closing remark, Arthur did not spare another glance for the almost frenzied believers below the stage.
He nodded slightly and, amidst the thunderous applause and screams, turned and walked towards the backstage.
His steps were steady, his cape swaying.
Leaving behind a majestic and mysterious silhouette for the World.
Arthur knew very well.
As a superhero, especially one with more divinity than humanity like him, it was crucial to understand the art of leaving things unsaid.
If he were to linger on stage, babbling like a third-rate internet celebrity,
interacting endlessly with fans, his prestige would instantly plummet.
Mystery was the best preservative for maintaining high popularity points.
After all,
what the public worshipped was the flawless Homelander he spoke of, representing the purest will of America.
Not a John Gilchang who liked beautiful women, was keen on making money, and was even a bit petty.
As long as this facade wasn't broken,
he was the faith of this World.
He was the only true God.
As soon as he entered the backstage lounge, the clamor was blocked by the heavy soundproof door.
"Clap! Clap! Clap!"
Tony Stark leaned against the dressing table, clapping and whistling.
A signature playful smile on his face.
"Brilliant, truly brilliant."
Tony walked over, sizing up Arthur as if seeing him for the first time:
"Honestly, major shareholder, I think you should run for President."
"Based on that speech just now, the emotion, the rhythm of the pauses, it would be a loss to America's political scene if you didn't sit in that chair in the White House."
"I even want to cast a vote for you."
Although Nick Fury still wore his usual poker face, a complex look flashed in his single eye.
As the King of Agents, he had seen too many inspiring orators.
But someone like Arthur, who had both absolute power to back him up and such terrifying charisma...
He was the first.
"Though I really don't want to admit it,"
Fury said in a low voice, crossing his arms:
"But when it comes to stirring public emotions, you are indeed a genius."
Arthur unbuttoned a button on his collar, and the divine radiance instantly receded a bit.
"Keep it low-key, low-key."
He waved his hand and picked up a bottle of Water from the table.
Without twisting the cap, a light flick of his thumb sent the bottle cap flying.
"I just said what they wanted to hear, in a way they liked."
"That's called user thinking, understand, Director Fury?"
Just then,
Steve Rogers, who had been silently standing in the corner, walked over.
This former symbol of American spirit now looked at Arthur with an indescribable sense of approval and a hint of frustration.
"John."
Captain America looked at him sincerely:
"What you said just now was really good."
"About home, about protection, about responsibility."
"Honestly, even the me of back then, in such an occasion, probably couldn't have moved people's hearts like you did."
"I feel that today's young people are indeed stronger than us."
Arthur looked at this sincere old-fashioned man, feeling not the slightest guilt, but rather more inclined to smile.
This honest kid.
If he knew that Arthur was thinking about how to 'harvest' these 'leeks' more thoroughly, Captain America would probably smash his shield on the spot.
But on the surface, Arthur still showed a humble and respectful expression.
He reached out and gently patted the crimson Stars and Stripes cape behind him.
"No, Captain, you flatter me."
Arthur looked righteous, his eyes as clear as a college student's:
"How could I have any talent for public speaking?"
"I rely on it."
He pointed at the cape, his voice low and emotional:
"It's America."
"It's the spirit of this land, the freedom and indomitable will flowing in our blood, that makes me want to shout out."
"All of this is my sincere heart, without any tricks, purely emotion."
Steve Rogers: "..."
Looking at Arthur's 'I am proud of this' expression, Captain America opened his mouth, and finally, a thousand words condensed into a sigh.
"Well said."
He heavily patted Arthur's shoulder, his eyes full of gratification.
This is the Captain America of the new era!
This level of awareness is unmatched!
Arthur subtly accepted the pat, secretly pleased.
This move not only harvested popularity points from the public but also maxed out the Avengers' favorability towards him.
Killing two birds with one stone, a complete win.
"Alright, since the press conference is over, I should be going too."
Arthur didn't want to waste any more time with these big guys.
He adjusted his cape and waved to everyone:
"See you all later."
"If you encounter any aliens you can't handle, or particularly ugly monsters, remember to call my name."
Done.
He walked to the outdoor exit backstage.
The sun shone on him, and the golden eagle head epaulets gleamed.
Under the gaze of Tony, Fury, and Captain America.
Boom!!!
Without any run-up, without any warning.
The concrete beneath Arthur's feet suddenly cracked into a spiderweb of fissures.
Immediately after.
A deafening roar instantly erupted!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The air was instantly torn apart.
Only an afterimage remained on everyone's retinas.
And high above, three visible Mach rings burst open!
Instantly breaking three times the speed of sound!
A fierce wind rushed into the backstage, messing up Tony's hair into a bird's nest and making Fury's trench coat flap wildly.
"What... the fuck..."
Tony took off his sunglasses, looking at the lingering cloud rings in the sky, his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
"He just... took off?"
"Without even a warm-up?"
Nick Fury's single eye also narrowed into a slit.
This was the first time he had experienced such a close-up shock from pure physical power.
No technological assistance, just tearing through the sound barrier with sheer body strength.
Can such a monster...
truly be controlled?
...
Above Manhattan.
Arthur enjoyed the exhilaration of the cold wind whipping his face at high altitude.
[Ding! Detected deep shock from all Avengers members, popularity points +500!]
[Ding! Detected New York citizens witnessing the Mach rings, worship value skyrockets, popularity points +2000!]
Listening to the system's prompts, Arthur was in a great mood.
A few minutes later.
He landed on the ruins of his top-floor apartment, which now looked like it had suffered Syrian war damage.
It was noon, and the sun was scorching, but he felt warm all over, as if he had endless energy.
"Drip."
His phone rang in his pocket.
Arthur took it out and saw a bank transfer SMS.
[Your account received a transfer at 12:05 PM: $200,000,000.00. Memo: All-American Mutual Insurance Claim.]
"Heh."
Arthur sneered, looking at the long string of zeros.
"These spineless bastards."
"They only know how to write a check when Tony's legal team has a knife to their throats."
"Force majeure? In the face of capital and fists, there's no such thing as force majeure."
He casually put his phone back in his pocket.
With two hundred million in hand, plus his previous savings and Stark Industries stock dividends,
his current cash flow was frighteningly abundant.
"Since the house is destroyed, I'll just buy another one."
Arthur surveyed the surrounding ruins, shaking his head in distaste.
"But the feng shui here isn't good. This time I need to find a flashier, higher place."
"Before that..."
"I'll just make do in a five-star hotel for a few days; the presidential suite should be fine too."
Just as he was about to set off to find a Michelin three-star restaurant to reward his craving stomach,
"Hmm?"
Arthur's ears twitched slightly.
Super Hearing instantly picked up a discordant clamor.
He walked to the edge of the ruins and looked down.
Through layers of architectural obstruction, Super Vision instantly locked onto a main road a few blocks away.
There, a scene like a Hollywood blockbuster was unfolding.
A heavy armored cash transport truck was rampaging through the streets like a mad wild bull.
Inside the cab, several masked robbers were holding submachine guns, frantically firing at the police cars in hot pursuit.
"Tat-tat-tat-tat—!"
Gunshots, siren wails, and pedestrians' screams blended into a cacophony.
And the out-of-control truck, due to excessive speed, skidded violently while crossing an intersection.
Its massive body tilted sideways, with a screech of brakes, heading straight for the sidewalk!
And in that direction,
two young women, fashionably dressed and carrying shopping bags,
were terrified, their legs turning to jelly, completely unable to escape!
Watching as the multi-ton steel behemoth was about to crush them into pulp,
Arthur, standing a hundred meters high, a slight smile played on his lips.
"Pre-dinner dessert has arrived."
"This cliché 'hero saves the beauty' plot might be tacky, but..."
"Those two popularity points babies are quite good-looking, aren't they?"
Boom!
The next second.
The figure that had been standing at the edge of the ruins instantly vanished.
Only a circle of explosive air ripples remained, slowly spreading at the original spot.