Chapter 82: December 16, 1991
As the document unfolded, Luca wore a solemn expression.
This was no ordinary document; its format was very unusual.
Luca had seen many kinds of document formats.
He had come into contact with classified reports from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the Central Intelligence Agency, and even the Department of Defense Pentagon.
But this thing before him, he had never seen before.
Most of the contents of the document were blacked out.
Furthermore, the edges of each blacked-out area were neat and tidy.
Only a few scattered pieces of information were not covered.
This looked very much like it was left behind on purpose.
The first place was the date column at the top of the document, which read: [Date: December 16, 1991]
Luca's fingers hovered in mid-air and stopped.
December 16, 1991.
He didn't need anyone to remind him what this date meant.
This was the day their parents had their accident.
That year, Tony was in his prime,
and he was also very young.
Human memories are vague, but some things are engraved into one's bones, clear as yesterday no matter how many years have passed.
He remembered that the servant woke him up that night.
He remembered the panicked footsteps of the adults everywhere and the muffled crying.
He remembered Tony standing in the living room with a flushed face, tightly gripping a telephone.
He remembered looking at them ignorantly, never crying out.
It wasn't that he didn't want to cry.
Rather, he was too young to understand what death really was.
Even though he was gifted, remembering all the knowledge his father taught him and every English word...
But death did not exist in his concept.
That night could be considered the first time he saw it.
By the time he truly understood what happened that night, it was many years later.
And by that time, tears were no longer enough.
Luca withdrew his thoughts and continued reading down.
The second place.
[Mission Codename: WS-1991 - D16-0347]
A meaningless string of codes.
Starting with the two letters W and S, followed by the year and date, and finally a set of serial numbers.
Luca memorized this string of codes, but temporarily could not judge what it represented.
The third place was a line of residual text.
[Target confirmed eliminated. Asset recovery.]
Followed closely by another line below.
[Collateral target: Female, dealt with. No witnesses.]
Luca stared at these two lines of words with cold eyes.
Obviously, this was not a car accident report, but rather looked more like a mission report.
Furthermore, it was an after-action report of an organized and premeditated assassination operation.
And their target referred to Howard Stark.
The collateral target female must be their mother, Maria Stark.
"Dealt with."
"No witnesses."
Luca's brows furrowed deeper.
Then, he saw the photos.
That's right, three photos were attached to the document.
The first was the back of a long-haired man.
The shooting angle of the photo was very tricky, looking like a frame captured from a concealed surveillance camera.
The image quality was not high, with obvious noise and a timestamp.
But fortunately, the content of the image was clear enough.
The content was the long-haired man choking a person's neck with one hand.
The choked person knelt half-way on the ground, their hands weakly grabbing the other's wrist.
Although the image quality was blurry, the facial features were still recognizable.
This was Howard Stark, their father.
Luca's breathing began to quicken, and the force field around his body trembled uncontrollably.
The second and third photos were of the vehicle wreckage.
A black sedan crashed into a tree by the roadside.
The front of the car was severely deformed, and the hood was dented inward.
But this wasn't the main point; Luca saw a mark on the side of the car body.
This didn't look like damage caused by a head-on collision.
There was an obvious impact dent on the right rear of the car body.
Judging from the angle and depth of the dent, this car was first hit from the rear-side by another car, and then lost control and rushed to the roadside.
Facts proved that this was not an ordinary car accident.
After all, if it were a car accident, it wouldn't leave an impact dent of this angle on the side of the car body.
Of course, the most important thing was...
Even more so, there wouldn't be a long-haired person choking the driver's neck.
Luca took a deep breath and looked at Tony.
Tony was very quiet, his gaze nailed tightly onto the photos.
But sometimes, quietness was the most abnormal state.
Tony had seen quite a few battlefield scenes.
In the caves of Afghanistan, he had seen scenes ten times more cruel than this with his own eyes.
But those were all strangers.
And in this photo was his father.
The man he both adored and resented, both wanted to surpass and gain approval from since childhood.
December 16, 1991.
He remembered every detail of receiving the call that night.
He was attending a school party.
The call was made by the butler, who said only one sentence.
"Young Master Tony, your parents have been in a car accident."
That's right, a car accident.
Everyone said it was a car accident.
The Police said it was a car accident, media reports said it was a car accident, and the forensic appraisal report also wrote it was a car accident.
He had never doubted it.
The young Tony Stark accepted this conclusion, then turned grief into anger, and anger into paranoia.
He threw himself into work crazily, developed weapons crazily, and proved himself crazily.
He wanted to prove one thing to his deceased father.
You never really looked at me your whole life, but I will become a greater person than you.
The later uninhibitedness, playboy demeanor, and the strong liquor gulped down alone late at night were all just to make his father see him.
But his father was no longer here.
This in itself was cruel enough.
And now.
Someone told him that the car accident that took his parents away back then was not an accident, but a murder.
Someone orchestrated all of this.
Someone deliberately murdered Howard Stark and Maria Stark, and concealed it for seventeen years.
Tony's heartbeat had begun to accelerate, his fists clenched tightly.
The two remained silent for nearly a minute.
Then, Tony spoke.
"Jarvis."
"Yes, sir."
"The sending path of the email needs you to analyze at full speed. Including every proxy node, IP hop, relay server."
"Track all of it. At all costs."
"Already executing, sir."
"Preliminary analysis results show that the email passed through nineteen proxy nodes in total, and finally disappeared in an offline server cluster in the Eastern European region. Complete tracking takes time."
"I don't care how much time it takes. Give me the result."
Luca heard the tremor in Tony's words.
He knew that Tony was very angry.
But fortunately, he hadn't lost his mind.
Getting angry now had no meaning, and smashing things couldn't solve the problem either.
Find that long-haired person, find the organization behind him, find the person who gave the order.
This was what meaningful things were!
"Tony." Luca spoke.
"Calm down first."
"I am calm." Tony replied expressionlessly.
"No, you're not. Your hands are shaking."
Tony looked down at his right hand.
Very slightly, but it was indeed shaking.
He took a deep breath, loosened his fist, clenched it again, and loosened it again.
Finally, Tony looked at Luca.
"Alright."
"Say what you want to say."
Luca nodded, suppressing his reddened eyes as he spoke.
"This email itself is problematic."
"You're right, and there's a big problem."
"Someone actively sent the document to your private email. So, what is his purpose?"
Luca pondered for a few seconds.
"First possibility. This person is an insider. For some reason, the information is only leaked out now. Perhaps a discovery of conscience, perhaps forced by helplessness."
"Second possibility. This person is a defector of some organization. He treats this document as a token of allegiance, wanting to establish contact with us."
Speaking of this, Luca paused, blinked his reddened eyes, and then continued.
"Third possibility. This person is an enemy. Deliberately leaking partial information, guiding us to investigate in the wrong direction. Or testing our reaction."
After listening, Tony fell silent for a few seconds.
"Which one do you lean towards?"
"I don't lean towards either." Luca shook his head.
"Too few clues, it's too early to jump to conclusions. But one thing is certain."
"The person who can bypass Jarvis's firewall and deliver the document directly to your private email must not have low technical skills."
"And someone who can master this level of classified documents definitely has a high rank."
"Someone who can use military-grade encryption and also comes with custom algorithms must have a non-simple background."
Luca paused.
"Such people can be counted on one's fingers around the World."
Tony was stunned for a moment, and thought carefully.
"You mean S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA?"
"It's possible," Luca said.
"Dad, as a national-level talent, must be on their protection list. If someone wants to make a move against him, S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't possibly have zero news about it."
"You mean S.H.I.E.L.D. knows?"
"No, Tony, I mean, no matter who did it, no matter what the organization behind the scenes is, S.H.I.E.L.D. definitely knows something."
"A top talent died, and they didn't even give us a single explanation. Seventeen years. Don't you think this itself is very strange?"
Tony's gaze darkened.
Honestly, he really had never thought in this direction.
Because he had always thought it was just a car accident.
But now, the preconditions have changed.
"And that cotton machine," Luca continued.
"Nick Fury, you remember him, right?"
"Remember."
"You said, is there a possibility that he knew about Mom and Dad's affairs, but chose not to tell us..."
Luca didn't finish this sentence.
But the remaining meaning was already very clear.
If so, that wouldn't just be concealment, but complicity.
After being silent for a while, Tony asked a very critical question.
"This long-haired person... who is it?"
The two looked over; the blurry photo was still there.
The back of the long-haired man, choking Howard's neck with one hand.
The movement was crisp and neat, not something an ordinary person could do.
"Don't know."
Luca stared at the photo for a few seconds, then shook his head.
"But this person is definitely not an ordinary person. Look at his movement amplitude and force control, he must have received professional training. And his left arm..."
Luca pointed to an unnatural reflection on the photo.
"Don't you think this doesn't look like flesh and blood?"
"A prosthetic limb?"
"Possible. But not an ordinary prosthetic limb. An ordinary prosthetic limb couldn't choke an adult male's neck with one hand while maintaining such a stable posture."
"So this is a weaponized prosthetic limb?"
"Or modification," Luca said.
"In short, this is definitely an enhanced combatant. It couldn't be a temporarily hired assassin."
"Or rather, it's more like an asset of some organization."
"Asset."
Tony repeated this word.
He remembered that the document also used this word.
"Asset recovery."
This title itself revealed a bit of information.
Calling a person an asset meant that this person was not a human, at least not in the eyes of that organization.
Therefore, he was just a tool.
A tool waiting to be recovered after completing the mission.
And an organization possessing such an assassin was definitely not an ordinary organization.
These characteristics had some wondrous similarities with the HYDRA they knew.
Chapter 83: I Love Playboys the Most
The two of them looked at each other.
Everything that needed to be said had been said.
What needs to be done now is to decide what to do next.
"We will not make a move first—no, let us hide in the shadows first," Luca took the lead, his tone decisive.
"Hide this trail. Do not tell anyone."
Tony looked at him and asked in return,
"Including Pepper?"
"Including Pepper."
Luca did not hesitate for even half a second.
"Including Happy. Including Rhodes. Tell no one."
"Wait until we investigate and figure it out ourselves, then decide what to do."
Of course, this was not because he did not trust Pepper and Rhodes.
In matters like this, the fewer people who knew, the lower the risk of leakage.
More importantly, if this so-called mastermind organization still existed, they must be monitoring every move of the Stark Family.
Consequently, any abnormal behavior from them at this moment might alert the other party.
Tony fell silent again, then nodded.
"Fine, I agree."
Luca also nodded, then continued.
"But there is one more thing."
"Jarvis."
"Yes, Mr. Luca."
"Erase the email-related data from the regular logs."
"Create a separate encrypted database. Codename... let us call it December."
"Set the highest-level permissions. Only I and Tony can access it. Other accounts, including administrators, cannot."
"Understood. Executing."
Luca glanced at Tony.
"If anyone is monitoring our system, I do not want them to know we have seen these things."
Tony was stunned for a moment, not knowing whether to laugh or sigh.
Lately, this younger brother had been getting more and more cautious.
"Luca, you really are getting craftier at scheming behind people's backs."
"Tony, this is not being cautious."
"If Mom and Dad's deaths really were not an accident... then the people behind it must feel very safe. Seventeen years, and no one has ever suspected it. They probably think this matter has been turned over."
"What I want is for them to continue feeling safe."
"To continue resting assured, thinking no one knows the truth."
Luca turned his head, looking straight into Tony's eyes.
"Until the day we investigate everything and wipe them out."
These words were spoken very softly.
But Tony could clearly feel the magnetic field around them changing.
For someone without Superpowers like him, being able to clearly feel this state was already outrageous.
This meant Luca's anger had affected normal energy maintenance.
In other words, the sense of oppression had materialized.
This was Luca.
On the surface, he looked like a carefree playboy.
But when he got serious, Tony often felt immense pressure.
"Alright, then we will do it this way."
Tony replied.
Brief, but heavy.
The two brothers fell silent in unison.
They still did not know who the target was.
But the hunt had already begun.
Right at this moment,
Footsteps came from upstairs.
It was the sound of high heels stepping on the floor.
Obviously, Pepper was back.
The two brothers completed their switch almost simultaneously.
Luca turned around and closed the screen, casually picking up a pen to start randomly drawing something on a whiteboard.
Tony strode over to the workbench on the other side, picked up a circuit board, and put on the appearance of researching it.
Then, he started scolding Luca.
"Can you not make the experimental workbench look like a junkyard? These tools are arranged in order! How many did you move?"
Luca retorted without raising his head,
"First of all, the arrangement order of these tools is completely illogical. Second of all, who helped you choose Jarvis's projection colors? Blue background with green text? Are you trying to flash someone blind?"
"That is called tech blue, how would laymen understand."
"Tech blue paired with fluorescent green equals an aesthetic disaster. Even Jarvis is embarrassed to help you project it."
"Jarvis, do you think there is a problem with my color scheme?"
"Sir, I believe that under certain lighting conditions, the current color scheme may indeed cause a certain degree of visual fatigue for users watching for a long time..."
"Enough, thank you, Jarvis. Nobody asked you."
The door of the underground garage was pushed open.
Pepper walked in, carrying two paper bags.
The aroma of hamburgers instantly wafted through the air.
Glancing at the two brothers who were mutually disparaging each other, the corners of her mouth twitched helplessly.
Fine.
They were arguing before she left, and they were still arguing when she came back.
Probably during the time she was away, they had not even stopped arguing.
"My young masters, the burgers are here."
Pepper placed the paper bags on the workbench.
"Two spicy chicken burgers, two double cheeseburgers. I had them remove the pickles so you guys would not complain again."
"You bought four?"
Luca walked over, opened the paper bag and rummaged through it.
"Not bad, Potts. You have finally learned my appetite."
"Two are yours, two are Tony's. I already ate salad outside."
Tony also hurried over, reaching out to grab a cheeseburger from the bag.
"Wait." Luca blocked his hand.
"Let me pick first."
"Why should you pick first?"
"Because I am the younger brother. Younger brother comes first."
"Oh, shit, tell me, which law states that younger brothers come first?"
"It is the law of nature, old man! The smaller one always eats first."
"I declare your law of nature invalid."
Tony snatched the cheeseburger and took a big bite right in front of Luca.
"Mine tastes better than yours."
Luca looked down at the chicken burger and replied expressionlessly,
"Yours is fatter than mine."
"There are no fat burgers in this Universe."
"There are. Right in your hand."
Pepper sat in her chair, looking somewhat helplessly at the two men whose combined net worth was enough to rival a nation, bickering over a hamburger.
It was both exasperating and amusing.
But this was their daily routine, was it not?
At 4:17 PM,
Los Angeles International Airport.
A silver-white Gulfstream G650 slowly taxied to the parking bay.
The cabin door opened.
The folding airstairs extended.
A pair of black high heels stepped onto the steps.
A woman walked out of the cabin.
Her long black hair was blown by the sea breeze, swaying gently in the afternoon sunlight.
Her figure was wonderful.
Tall, slender, and with a near-perfect proportion.
The tailoring of her black trench coat hugged her waistline, outlining a clean and crisp silhouette.
Sunglasses covered most of her face, revealing only a sharply defined jawline and slightly pursed thin lips.
This was Jessica Drew, codename Spider-Woman.
After walking down the airstairs, her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Taking it out, she lowered her head to glance at the screen.
It was another encrypted message.
After decryption, a few lines of brief text appeared on the screen.
[ Target: Lucas Stark. ]
[ Identity cover in place. ]
[ Contact window: 72 hours. ]
After reading it, Jessica's mouth curved up slightly.
She exited the encrypted communication software, casually opened the browser, and typed a few words into the search bar.
"Lucas Stark."
The next second,
Countless gossip reports and social media updates popped up on the screen.
The headline was a photo.
Luca was wearing a black suit, tilting his head and smiling at the camera.
The smile looked quite uninhibited, his eyes were bright, and most importantly, he was really handsome and charming.
Moreover, his left arm was around a blonde model's waist, and his right hand held a glass of champagne.
The background was the VIP area of a high-society party.
The title read [ Young Master Stark strikes again! Photographed leaving late at night with a supermodel ]
Jessica's finger swiped across the screen, flipping through a few photos.
Parties, yachts, sports cars, beauties.
In every photo, Lucas Stark smiled without a single care, like the person in the World with zero worries.
Upright height, a bodily proportion so perfect it made people want to curse, and facial features as deep as if carved by God.
Coupled with the Stark Family name and a bank account with countless trailing zeros.
Well, a standard playboy.
Jessica put away her phone and took off her sunglasses.
A pair of beautiful green eyes were revealed.
"Playboy?"
She murmured softly to herself, then gave a shallow smile.
"I love dealing with this kind of person the most."
In a corner of the tarmac, a black Maybach was already waiting there.
The driver opened the rear door.
Jessica bent over and got inside.
The car door closed.
The Maybach slowly drove away from the tarmac, merging into the crowded afternoon traffic.
Outside the window were the dazzling sunlight and the shadows of palm trees.
The air conditioning inside the car was very cool.
Jessica leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.
72 hours.
For her, that was enough.
Chapter 84: Hammer's Lucky Day
That day, at noon.
New York, Manhattan.
Hammer Industries headquarters building, top floor.
Justin Hammer sat behind the desk.
One hand cupped his chin, while the other hand continuously tapped the replay button on the tablet.
On the screen was a news playback about last night.
Lucas Stark was in the center of the frame, sending the big green guy flying with a single punch.
After the slow-motion playback, everyone could see the wind of the fist carrying a visible Impact, and the surrounding ground cracked.
Then the screen cut to the surrounding crowd, and everyone was screaming.
"Superman! Superman! Superman!"
The corner of Hammer's mouth twitched.
Superman? Just him?
A playboy who spent all day chasing girls and throwing parties suddenly flew into the sky one day, and then the entire World started calling him Superman?
What was this supposed to be? A Batman script?!
What on earth was wrong with the aesthetic of the people of the United States? Had their brains been fried by the California sun?
Hammer turned off the replay, but couldn't help clicking it open again.
The screen changed to a different angle, this time an overhead perspective shot from a helicopter.
Luca was floating in mid-air, his cape snapping in the wind.
His arms were crossed over his chest, gazing down condescendingly at the ground.
The commentator's voice cracked with excitement: "Ladies and gentlemen! This is Superman! This is the hero who protects us! Lucas Stark!!"
Hammer laughed, and then slammed the tablet face-down onto the desk.
Why? Why?!
Just look at him, Justin Hammer, CEO of Hammer Industries, heir to a three-generation arms family, working sixteen hours a day and soaking in the laboratory even on weekends.
And what was the result? He couldn't even touch the threshold of the Pentagon.
And what about Lucas Stark?
Aside from being handsome, having a genius IQ, having a genius brother, being the richest man in the World, and having the last name Stark... what on earth had he actually done?!
Well, he really had done a lot.
But that wasn't the point.
The point was, why was he so damn handsome?
This height, this figure, this face!
Fuck!
When God created humans, did He concentrate everyone else's quota of handsome looks onto this single person?!
Honestly, this wasn't fair.
Hammer felt that he should write a complaint letter to God.
Thinking of this, his thoughts drifted back to a few years ago.
That was an arms industry annual meeting in Washington, where top arms dealers across the U.S. and Pentagon officials gathered together.
Hammer wore a custom suit, sprayed the most expensive perfume, stepped in shiny leather shoes, and considered himself the most decent man in the banquet hall.
Then Lucas Stark appeared.
Oh God, come out and take a look!
He wore what looked like a very casual black suit jacket, with a T-shirt inside.
That's right, a T-shirt!
With just such an ordinary outfit, Luca, holding only a glass of champagne in his hand, could stand in the corner laughing and chatting with two models.
Hammer was speechless, but still mustered up the courage to walk over.
"Hello, Luca! I am Justin Hammer, of Hammer Industries..."
Before he finished speaking, Luca glanced at him with a blank look, seemingly not recognizing him.
"Who are you?"
Hammer froze in place.
The two models beside him couldn't help covering their mouths and snickering.
Hammer had no choice but to bite the bullet and explain: "I am the CEO of Hammer Industries, our company also does military industry..."
"Oh."
Luca ended the conversation and then turned around to continue chatting with the models, leaving Hammer with only the back of his head.
Hammer froze in place, not knowing whether to leave or keep standing there.
Then, a passing waiter thought he was a peer and handed him a tray.
"Hey, buddy, the shrimp on the table over there is gone, could you please refill it."
Hammer's expression back then was probably about the same as being struck by lightning.
Recalling up to this point, Hammer took a deep breath and stood up.
He walked up to a wall behind his desk.
A row of photos hung on the wall, the most prominent of which was a photo of him and a certain general from the Pentagon.
The two stood in front of a fighter jet, smiling like best friends.
Even though that general probably wouldn't remember who he was afterwards at all.
But that didn't matter, at least the photo was real, and the group photo was real too.
Hammer smiled slightly at the photo, then straightened his posture.
"Justin Hammer."
He called his own name solemnly.
"You are a genius. You are the future King of Arms. What is Stark? Their family just has good luck, the old man knew Captain America, and the son mutated into Superman himself. What kind of ability is that? At best, it's a genetic lottery."
"And you, Justin Hammer, you got to where you are today by your own strength."
"You are truly..."
"Knock knock."
A knock on the door interrupted him.
Hammer was startled, almost biting his tongue.
In his haste, he quickly adjusted his expression, straightened his tie, sat back down in his chair, and put on a pose of a mastermind in control.
"Come in."
The secretary pushed the door open and entered with a document in hand.
"Mr. Hammer, the procurement evaluation report from the Pentagon has just been sent over."
Hammer's eyes lit up.
He snatched the file from the secretary's hand and opened it, his gaze jumping straight to the conclusion column.
"The samples submitted by Hammer Industries failed to meet the standards in the armor-piercing shell test, and are temporarily not included in the alternative supplier list."
Hammer's eyes slowly dimmed.
He didn't know why he failed.
Was he still not working hard enough, still not a genius enough?!
Observing the changes in her boss's expression, the secretary cautiously added a sentence.
"In addition, word from the general's side is... if the next proposal is still at this level, there's no need to contact them again."
The office fell into silence.
For a long time, Hammer gently put the document back on the desk, then spoke calmly.
"Thank you. You may leave."
As if granted amnesty, the secretary turned and left, closing the door so fast it looked like she was running for her life.
After the door closed, Hammer sat expressionlessly for two and a half seconds.
Then, he picked up a cup on the desk printed with the Hammer Industries logo and smashed it hard on the ground.
"Clang!"
The cup bounced twice and rolled into the corner.
Sadly, the cup didn't break, and it was plastic.
Hammer was almost laugh-crying out of anger.
"Great, great, great!"
"Fuck. Even the cup won't give me any face."
...
At two o'clock in the afternoon, the underground parking lot of the Hammer Industries building.
Although poured with cold water by the Pentagon, Hammer still decided to bite the bullet and go to the appointment.
What if they were just putting up a front?
What if it was just going through the motions?
Being the United States bureaucracy, leaving room for maneuver in their words was standard operation.
The bodyguard walked in front, and the special car was already parked in the dedicated parking space.
Hammer walked out of the elevator, his mind still running wild.
Just as he reached out to pull the car door open.
"Mr. Hammer."
Just at this moment.
A voice came from the side.
Hammer gave a start all over, and the bodyguard reacted even faster, taking a side step to block in front of him, his right hand already touching his holster.
From behind a pillar, a man in a dark gray suit walked out.
How should he put it, he felt that this person looked particularly like an ordinary passerby.
Passerby to what extent...
Hammer looked for a full two and a half glances, and still failed to remember what the other person's facial features looked like.
If he were to close his eyes and recall now, there would only be a blurry oval in his mind.
The other party politely raised both hands, palms facing outward, indicating no threat.
"Please don't be nervous, Mr. Hammer. I mean no harm."
Even so, the bodyguard still didn't relax his vigilance: "Who are you? How did you get in? This is a private parking lot."
The passerby man smiled, but didn't answer the bodyguard's question, instead looking directly at Hammer.
"Mr. Hammer, I represent a friend whose identity is inconvenient to disclose. This friend appreciates you very much, and he believes you are a genius severely underestimated by this World."
Wait, he said he was a severely underestimated genius?!
Hearing these words, Hammer's vigilance instantly dropped by eighty percent.
This wasn't because he was stupid, but because he felt this statement was spot on.
That's right, he, Justin Hammer, was indeed underestimated.
Finally someone discovered the truth!!
But he still maintained surface caution, frowning and asking: "Who is your friend?"
The passerby man didn't answer the question directly, but continued stating his purpose.
"Mr. Hammer, this friend has a deep relationship with the Pentagon. He has been paying attention to the development of Hammer Industries and is very optimistic about your potential."
Relationship? What relationship? How deep?
These questions flashed through Hammer's mind and then disappeared.
For no other reason than that what the passerby man said next shifted his attention.
"I know you are going to attend the procurement committee meeting right now."
Hammer was taken aback.
Are you kidding me, this news was definitely not public.
How did he know?!
"But I suggest you cancel this meeting," said the passerby man.
"Why?"
"Because the thing I brought..."
Before Hammer could react, the passerby man quickly pulled a USB flash drive out of his pocket.
The surface of the USB flash drive was a black shell, and there were no markings on it at all.
"Trust me, it will make you no longer need to beg anyone."
He gently placed the USB flash drive on the hood of Hammer's car.
"Inside this is a preliminary design draft of a miniaturized reactor. But this is not the Arc Reactor, it's another variety we planned ourselves. However, if your team is good enough, you should be able to make a usable version within half a year."
Chapter 85: I Will Cherish You In His Place
Hammer raised an eyebrow, his gaze locked onto the USB flash drive, and his Adam's apple bobbed.
This wouldn't be a pyramid scheme, would it?
No, pyramid schemes wouldn't give out USB flash drives; pyramid schemes give out chicken soup and facial masks.
Could this be an FBI sting operation?
Also wrong, FBI stings wouldn't pull off spy movie tropes in a parking lot.
But... he said I'm an underestimated genius.
Regardless, this sentence makes a lot of sense.
Besides, he put the USB flash drive right on my car.
If I don't take it, wouldn't that make me look cowardly?
Justin Hammer can be anything, but he definitely cannot be a coward.
"What do you want?"
Hearing this, the passerby man smiled slightly.
"It is very simple. We need a legitimate military enterprise to cooperate in producing some equipment. As for the specific details, someone will discuss them with you in detail later."
"Just like that?"
"There is one more thing." The passerby man paused for a moment.
"Our benefactor has an extra little wish. He hopes to see Stark Industries... suffer a little setback."
What? Stark Industries suffering a setback?!
Hammer smiled.
Isn't this right up his alley?! He specializes in this sort of thing!
He practically scrambled to pick up the USB flash drive and shove it into his pocket.
Then, he turned his head and said to his bodyguard.
"Cancel the afternoon meeting. We are going back to the company."
The bodyguard had no idea what had happened, and directly wore a bewildered expression: "Boss, but the general's side..."
"Let the general wait."
Hammer waved his hand, the arc of his mouth already unable to be suppressed.
"Justin Hammer is about to take off immediately. Who still cares about that lousy order of his?"
Having said that, he pulled open the car door and sat in the back seat, but almost pinched his trench coat when closing the door.
Soon, the car started up and disappeared from view.
The bodyguard glanced at the taillights of his boss's departing car and silently sighed in his heart.
So sad, what should I do?
The boss seemed to have his condition flare up again, and it wasn't ordinarily severe.
In the corner of the parking lot, the passerby man had already disappeared.
Coming without a shadow and leaving without a trace, just like he had never appeared before.
...
On the same day, evening.
New York, East Manhattan.
Arulu stood on the street opposite the Hammer Industries building.
At this moment, he was silently observing this building.
No other reason, simply because he needed an identity.
An identity that could enter this building and approach the core area.
He could have directly controlled this company with invincible might.
But reality told him that if he did that, he would directly make the front page headlines.
Then the result would be that his mission to hide his identity would immediately fail.
Thinking of this, he glanced at his current appearance.
Bald image, Middle Eastern face, a six-foot-three robust figure.
This flesh bag was very useful in the desert, but it was obviously not very suitable in an office building in New York.
Two hours ago, he tried walking directly into the front door of the Hammer building.
The lobby security guard looked him up and down from head to toe, his gaze lingering for a long time on his bald head and tight T-shirt.
"Sir, do you have an appointment? In our place, even robbery requires an appointment."
Arulu was stunned for a moment, not understanding what it meant for a moment, but still expressionlessly replied: "I am here to apply for a job."
The security guard raised an eyebrow.
This guy looks like that and still dares to come apply?
Could he be here to steal my job?!
"Alright, what position are you applying for?"
Arulu quickly flipped through the Earthling occupation names obtained from Benjamin's memory in his mind.
Unfortunately, Benjamin was a Terrorists, and the reserve of proper occupations in his memory database was pitifully small.
"Uh... doorman."
The security guard was silent for two seconds.
Fuck!
He really is here to steal my job!!
If I let you in today, I won't believe in Bruce!
"Sir, please leave."
Arulu was unceremoniously invited out.
Fortunately, he wasn't angry.
To him, anger was an inefficient emotion.
He just retreated into the Starbucks across the street, found a window-side seat, and sat down.
Because he was barefoot, wearing a poorly fitting T-shirt, and his body shape was outrageously huge, the customers nearby changed their seats one after another.
There was also a white-collar girl who glanced at him, her expression looking like she had seen a prison escapee.
Arulu didn't care about these.
Earth's social rules were as unfamiliar to him as an alien language.
He sat there quietly, scanning every person entering and exiting the Hammer Industries building with a pair of emotionless eyes.
This look lasted for an entire afternoon.
Finally, he locked onto a target.
Vince Carter.
Forty-eight years old, bald, slightly chubby, deputy director of the Hammer Industries Weapons R&D Department.
The reason for choosing him was very simple.
This person always walked home alone after work, with no colleagues accompanying him and no one picking him up.
His work badge hung on his chest, and his security clearance was not low.
Third, and most importantly.
When Vince passed the Starbucks window, he inadvertently made eye contact with Arulu sitting inside.
Afterwards, Vince subconsciously quickened his pace.
In Arulu's cognitive system, a person who feared him was equivalent to a weak prey.
And weak prey equaled the easiest target to start with.
Logic was clear, and decision-making was efficient.
The tracking process was very simple.
Vince walked slowly, and completely lacked anti-tracking awareness.
He walked all the way to the subway station, rode four stops, and then walked back to his apartment building in the East District.
Arulu followed behind, always maintaining a distance of about thirty meters.
Vince looked at his phone the entire way and didn't look back even once.
Well, this was a pitiful fellow.
The process of entering the apartment was even simpler.
After waiting for Vince to walk into the building, Arulu flew straight up.
The apartment was on the seventh floor, and the window was unlocked.
Arulu landed silently on the room's floor.
He heard the sound of the refrigerator door opening in the kitchen, followed by the sound of a beer bottle cap popping open.
Vince walked out of the kitchen with the beer and closed the refrigerator door.
Then he saw Arulu standing in the living room.
The beer bottle dropped from his hand.
The sound of the wine bottle shattering seemed very abrupt in the quiet apartment, and even more like a signal for action.
What followed happened naturally.
Arulu didn't like wasting time.
Two and a half minutes later, the apartment returned to quietness.
There was one more shriveled body on the floor.
The body's mouth was open, frozen in the cry for help that failed to be shouted out.
Arulu withdrew the black substance and closed his eyes.
The next second, a massive amount of memories poured into his brain.
This was Vince Carter's forty-eight-year life.
Childhood, school, university, work, marriage.
Arguing, working overtime, being scolded by the boss, being squeezed out by colleagues.
Being despised by his wife for low salary, doing countless failed tests in the laboratory.
Most importantly, there was Vince's understanding of Hammer Industries.
For example, organizational structure, security processes, core projects, interpersonal relationship networks.
Arulu spent about ten seconds digesting this information.
Then, he walked into the bathroom.
The next second, his body began to change.
His height was shrinking, dropping from one meter nine to one meter seventy-five.
His muscles were receding, turning into a slight sense of flabbiness.
Sparse hair grew on top of his head, his waistline became a circle thicker, and the contours of his face became rounded.
A dozen seconds later, standing in the mirror was no longer Benjamin, but Vince Carter.
Looking down at this new body, it was half a head shorter, a circle fatter, and soft to the touch.
To be honest, this flesh bag made him somewhat unaccustomed.
But there was no help for it; this was required by the mission.
He looked at the mirror again and began practicing his smile.
Vince's memory told him that when smiling, the corners of the mouth would crook to the right.
What was this supposed to be?!
The God of Crooked Mouths?
But he didn't think much about it and decided to give it a try.
But unfortunately, the corner of the mouth crooked to the left.
Wrong, wrong.
Try again.
This time it crooked to the right, but the magnitude was too big, looking like a Nike logo.
This smile gave him the illusion of wanting to go out and act cool immediately, and someone was ready to tear his mouth apart.
OK, let's do it over once more.
This time the magnitude was controlled, but the eyes didn't smile along.
The whole face turned into a weird combination of the upper half being expressionless and the lower half grinning.
What was this? An accountant planning a murder forcibly squeezing out a smile?!
Arulu practiced in front of the mirror for ten minutes.
Finally, he mastered a barely passing version.
Not perfect, but enough to use.
Earthlings' social abilities' perception of details was far less acute than they thought.
He rummaged through Vince's wardrobe and picked out an ordinary set of shirt and trousers to put on.
Before going out, he passed through the living room, his gaze sweeping over a photo frame on the coffee table.
Inside the photo frame was a group photo of Vince and his wife.
The two stood by the seaside, smiling very happily.
Arulu curiously looked for a while, his mind recalling the memories of Vince and his wife.
"Your husband loves you very much."
He said this sentence using the Earthling tone learned from the memory.
After a brief pause, he continued.
"But I will cherish you in his place."
Having said that, he turned around and went out.
The door lock clicked shut.
He was going out to forage and see if he could encounter some good goods; he had been hungry for a long time.
Chapter 86: You Won't Be Heroes Forever
At the same time, Hammer Industries headquarters, R&D laboratory.
Hammer plugged the USB drive into the isolated terminal.
However, it wasn't connected to the external network; he still had that bit of security awareness.
Then he spent nearly four hours studying the contents inside.
At first, he was very excited, and his hands were shaking when he opened the files.
Then, he saw the theoretical framework on the first page.
"Th... This formula is wrong, right? Wait a minute, it seems I've seen this when I was studying at MIT..."
He was stunned for a moment.
Oh, he had never gone to MIT.
Never mind, skip it.
The second page was the parameter design of the energy module.
"What does this variable represent? P-sub-k... Is it power? Or pressure? Whatever, I guess it's temperature."
He guessed while reading further down.
"If this parameter is temperature... then the core temperature of this reactor must reach..."
He picked up the calculator and pressed a few keys.
Then his eyes widened.
"This fucking thing is hotter than the Sun's surface!!"
He jumped up in excitement, rushed to the front of the blackboard, and began sketching.
However, after drawing for a long time, he found he had drawn it backwards.
It's fine, erase it and start over.
Although he probably only understood sixty percent of the things in the USB drive.
But sixty percent was enough, enough for him to see a possibility.
And it was a possibility to go head-to-head with Stark.
He stood in front of the blackboard and drew a rough mecha outline.
This outline was larger, more rugged, and heavier than the mark armor.
It didn't pursue elegance, only pursuing violent aesthetics.
He hesitated for a moment and wrote a line of text above the outline.
"War Machine".
Looking at it, he felt it wasn't quite right, and crossed it out.
Then he rewrote Hammer Iron Man.
Fuck, even more wrong.
Too low! Cross it out again.
Finally, he wrote Hammer Armor No. 1.
Staring at it for a while, he was still not quite satisfied.
But the blackboard was already in a mess from his scribbles,
the remnants of several vetoed names mixed together, looking like a crime scene.
"Forget it, we'll talk about the name later."
Hammer threw away the pen, took two steps back, put his hands on his hips, and surveyed his masterpiece.
Although it was drawn like a kindergarten art project, he saw the future.
A future belonging to him, Justin Hammer.
...
Early the next morning.
Hammer Industries headquarters building, first-floor lobby.
Vince Carter appeared at the company's front entrance precisely at 8:15 in the morning.
He swiped his work ID, with a beep, the access control light turned green.
He walked into the lobby and smiled at the receptionist young lady.
The receptionist returned a professional smile, and then muttered inwardly.
Vince's smile today is so strange.
It was standard, but standard to the point of being a bit scary, just like he practiced in front of a mirror.
Vince walked through the lobby and greeted several colleagues walking toward him.
"Morning, Bob."
"Hi, Linda."
"Jerry, your tie is crooked."
Every sentence, every tone, and every subtle pause were exactly the same as the real Vince.
Because these were all replicated from Vince's memories.
However, there was still a subtle flaw.
The real Vince walked slightly splay-footed, and when his left foot landed, it dragged a beat slower than his right foot.
This was a habit left from a knee injury while playing football when he was young.
Now Vince's pace was as steady as a metronome.
Every step was precise and uniform, so perfect it didn't seem human.
Of course, no one would notice this level of detail.
Except for a certain kind of people, people who have received professional training.
Vince carried a cup of coffee down the corridor, walking toward Hammer's office.
Today's first goal was to get Hammer used to his presence around him.
No rush, take it slow.
First build trust, then infiltrate, and finally...
Ding.
The elevator door at the end of the corridor opened.
A man wearing a dark gray suit walked out.
This was the passerby face who contacted Hammer in the parking lot yesterday.
He came today to follow up and confirm whether Hammer had looked at the USB drive, so as to better promote the next step of cooperation.
The two people walked toward each other in the corridor.
Seeing the other person, Vince nodded politely.
"Good morning."
The contact person also nodded slightly and returned a smile.
"Morning."
The two brushed past each other.
Then.
The same thought flashed through both of their minds almost simultaneously.
Vince continued walking unconcernedly, but had already completed an analysis inside.
This person's gait was too steady.
It must be the control that only someone who has undergone long-term training would have.
This guy was definitely not an ordinary business visitor.
The contact person also slowed his pace by half a beat.
He found something wrong with Vince's smile.
It felt... too standard.
Standard to the point of being copied from an operation manual.
Normal people have randomness when they smile.
The contact person frowned slightly, but didn't look back.
This shouldn't be anything, maybe he was just overthinking.
After all, for people working in a place like this, it's normal for their social smiles to be a bit stiff.
The two of them walked in their respective directions.
They went their separate ways, and then gradually drifted apart.
...
Nearing noon.
Hammer Industries headquarters, R&D laboratory.
Hammer finally had a bit of a research direction.
The table was piled with reference drawings and a half-eaten sandwich.
The mecha sketch had been filled with a large number of parameters and annotations.
Hammer himself was very satisfied with this.
He stood in front of the blackboard with his hands on his hips, already beginning to envision future scenes in his mind.
For example, standing in the mecha at a Pentagon press conference, reporters from all over the World taking pictures of him, generals lining up to shake his hand...
Amid his fantasies, he unconsciously took out his phone and inexplicably opened Twitter.
His fingers automatically navigated to Lucas Stark's personal page.
The latest dynamic was posted by Luca two hours ago.
This was a selfie.
Luca was lying by the pool wearing sunglasses, with two bikini-clad beauties beside him, and the sunlight shining on his well-defined physique.
Luca's caption had only three words.
"Nice weather."
Damn bastard, even the photo angle was so perfect.
What was even more aggravating was that ninety percent of the 350,000 comments in the comment section were drooling over the screen.
"Husband, I can!!"
"Superman, please look at me!"
"What kind of divine figure is this ahhhhh!"
Hammer stared at this selfie for a while.
Then, he slammed his phone down hard on the desktop.
"Just you wait, Stark."
"You won't be a hero forever."
Chapter 87 Kamar-Taj
The Himalayas, at an altitude of four thousand meters.
Ordinary people reaching this height would most likely already be experiencing dizziness and shortness of breath, wishing they could hug an oxygen tank as a pillow.
Yet hidden among these snow-covered ridges all year round was a collection of buildings that should not have existed.
That is right, it was Kamar-Taj.
Ancient buildings were scattered haphazardly yet harmoniously throughout the valley, with prayer flags fluttering in the wind hanging between the flying eaves and bracket sets.
The entire complex looked as if it had been directly copy-pasted from hundreds of years ago, but fortunately, there was WiFi, and the password was hhhhgysl.
In the square, more than twenty robed apprentices were practicing magic.
A young apprentice gestured with both hands for a long time until a trace of yellow sparks finally emerged from his palms.
He was so excited he almost jumped up, turning his head to show off to the person next to him, only to find that person had already opened a portal with bare hands.
The smile of the young apprentice instantly froze.
Damn it, how could the gap between people be so huge!
Meanwhile, at the back of the square, in a quaint zen room, the atmosphere was much more tranquil.
The water in the copper pot was bubbling and steaming, and a faint tea fragrance drifted through the room.
On both sides of a low tea table sat two people.
On the left was a bald woman.
Strangely enough, this person had no eyebrows, wore a yellow robe, had a face whose age was unreadable, and always wore a faint smile at the corners of her mouth.
The feeling she gave off was, I know everything but I just will not say it.
This was the Sorcerer Supreme, Ancient One.
On the right was a slightly plump middle-aged man with a round face, a serious expression, wearing a yellow sorcerer's robe, and sitting up straight.
He was Wang.
But not the King of Sorcerers, nor any honorable title.
This was simply his name.
Surname Wang, given name Wang.
Probably his dad took a shortcut when naming him.
Sorcerer Ancient One unhurriedly picked up the teapot, filled Wang's cup with tea, and then gently pushed it in front of him.
The movement was elegant and calm, as if this was not a cup of tea, but a ceremony of profound Zen meaning.
"Thank you, Sorcerer." Wang took the teacup with both hands and took a respectful sip.
Hmm, it was still the familiar taste.
It could not be said to be delicious, nor could it be said to be unpalatable.
Anyway, it was just bland.
Just like drinking plain boiled water.
Wang muttered inwardly, but still maintained an appropriately grateful expression on his face.
Sorcerer Ancient One watched him, smiling without speaking.
The atmosphere was silent for about a few seconds.
Wang put down the cup and finally could not help asking: "Sorcerer Supreme, did you call me here... for something?"
Every time Sorcerer Ancient One personally brewed tea and invited him to drink, it meant there was a mission.
The last time he finished drinking tea, he was sent to organize the forbidden library for several months.
Sorcerer Ancient One was not in a hurry either, instead slowly putting down the teapot and smiling slightly.
"Wang, how long have you been in Kamar-Taj?"
"Eleven years and five months. Counting the time when I was a sales assistant, a total of twenty years." Wang answered without hesitation.
"You have done a very great job managing the collection in the library."
"Thank you."
"So..."
Sorcerer Ancient One paused and continued in a gentle tone.
"I am planning to transfer you to a different post."
Wang was slightly stunned.
Transfer posts?
Was not he doing well in the library?
Every day organizing texts, looking at forbidden spells, and occasionally reprimanding a few book-stealing apprentices, his days were quite fulfilling and wonderful.
How could there be a sudden transfer?!
"I need you to go station at the New York Sanctum." Sorcerer Ancient One said this nonchalantly.
Wang was stunned once again.
New York Sanctum.
Mentioning this, some unpleasant memories welled up in his mind.
In his impression, the New York Sanctum was just an old house in downtown Manhattan.
Of course, from the outside it looked like an ordinary old house, but it was actually the New York Sanctum, one of the Sanctum Sanctorum.
"Sorcerer Supreme... is not someone already stationed at the New York Sanctum?" Wang weighed his words.
He spoke very tactfully, but the subtext was actually that someone was already doing it, why did he have to go?
Or rather... he did not really want to go.
In Kamar-Taj, he was a librarian, surrounded by thousands of mystical texts every day.
He could flip through whatever he wanted to learn at any time, and whenever he encountered something he did not understand, he could consult Sorcerer Ancient One.
But if he went to New York...
That would mean staring blankly at an empty house every day, without even a person to talk to.
Just thinking about those days felt bitter.
Sorcerer Ancient One clearly saw through his thoughts, but did not expose them, simply maintaining a smile.
"The guards of the sanctum need to be strengthened, that is one of the reasons."
"What about the second reason?"
"I need you to contact two people."
Wang raised an eyebrow, quietly waiting for the rest.
Sorcerer Ancient One picked up her own teacup and said unhurriedly.
"I need you to contact the Stark Brothers. After arriving in New York, find a suitable opportunity to approach them, establish a connection with them, make them interested in magic, and then teach them magic."
As soon as these words came out,
Wang almost failed to hold the teacup in his hand securely.
"Teach them... magic?"
"Yes."
"The Stark Brothers? Tony Stark and Lucas Stark?"
"I cannot think of any other Stark Brothers besides them."
Sorcerer Ancient One nodded slightly, her smile unchanged.
Wang was silent for several seconds.
Of course he knew the Stark Brothers, who in the World did not know?
The global richest men, weapons manufacturers, recently one turned into a flying iron can, and the other turned into Superman soaring through the skies and burrowing into the earth.
Of course, before that, their more famous identity was being well-known playboys.
Two billionaires who frequently haunted major parties and entertainment pages, changing female companions faster than ties.
Wang really found it hard to associate learning magic with them.
"Sorcerer Supreme, pardon my frankness." Wang chose his words very carefully.
"They... do not quite seem like people who can calm down to learn magic."
This was already a very polite way of saying it.
What he really wanted to say was, two warmongers plus playboys, what qualifications did they have to learn Kamar-Taj's magic?
Sorcerer Ancient One seemed to find his expression very interesting, and her smile deepened a bit.
"Wang, you just need to do as you are told."
This was the style of Sorcerer Ancient One.
Never finishing her words, always making people feel she knew something you did not.
Wang wanted to ask further, but seeing Sorcerer Ancient One's smiling face, he had no choice but to sensibly shut his mouth.
Having stayed in Kamar-Taj for so many years, he had long learned one thing.
Whatever Sorcerer Ancient One asked you to do, just do it; asking too much would not bring answers, only a few more cups of bland tea.
But reluctance aside, what needed to be done still had to be done.
"And..."
Sorcerer Ancient One, as if suddenly remembering something, casually added a sentence.
"If you build a good relationship with the Stark Brothers, you can probably eat all kinds of delicious food every day."
Wang was stunned again and again and again.
But this time, his eyes lit up.
What did Sorcerer Ancient One just say?!
All kinds of food?!
These five words struck into his mind like a flash of lightning.
Honestly speaking, life in Kamar-Taj was certainly fulfilling.
But the food...
To put it nicely, it was called purifying the heart and desires; to put it harshly, it was eating vegetarian meals every day.
He could not remember when the last time he ate meat was.
Not to mention burgers, pizza, steak, cheesecake...
"Sorcerer, imparting knowledge and teaching people is our duty. Rest assured, I will set off as soon as possible!" Wang's tone suddenly became much firmer.
Sorcerer Ancient One: "..."
This guy, was he this easy to bribe?
"Go." Sorcerer Ancient One waved her hand, holding back the smile at the corners of her mouth.
Wang stood up, solemnly put his palms together to bow, and then turned around and walked out quickly.
Judging by this pace, it was at least twice as fast as when he came.
Sorcerer Ancient One watched his back, shaking her head helplessly.
However, the smile quickly dissipated.
The zen room grew quiet again, leaving only the subtle sound of water boiling in the teapot.
Sorcerer Ancient One slowly raised her head, her gaze falling outside the window.
It also seemed to pierce through the window, through the snow-capped mountains, looking towards a more distant place that did not belong to the present.
The timeline had become blurred.
Countless possibilities intertwined together, like a disturbed water surface.
The more clearly she wanted to see, the more distorted the reflection became.
Some things had changed.
Some people who should not have existed had appeared.
She never told others what she actually saw.
This was the responsibility of the Sorcerer Supreme, and also her habit.
She only hoped that the Stark Brothers could break through this fog.
Or at least let her see clearly what was hidden behind the fog.
Tea steam curled upwards, and Sorcerer Ancient One picked up her teacup.
Chapter 88 Personal Life Assistant
Jessica Drew
Meanwhile.
Stark Industries Headquarters building.
Lucas Stark's private office.
Jessica had been waiting in this office for fifteen minutes.
She sat on the sofa with her legs crossed, maintaining an elegant posture.
But only she knew that her gaze hadn't stopped wandering since she walked in.
The desk was custom walnut wood, piled with a few documents and a half-disassembled small device.
Unfortunately, it was impossible to tell what it was, but the wiring inside was dizzyingly intricate.
There weren't many books on the bookshelves by the wall, but instead, quite a lot of messy odds and ends were placed there.
For example, an autographed baseball, a disassembled pair of headphones, several sunglasses of different colors, and a sticky note that read "Don't touch my things".
The style of the office, described in one word, was wealthy casualness.
Jessica shook her head and quickly withdrew her gaze.
She repeatedly rehearsed her subsequent coping strategies in her mind.
The target person was Lucas Stark, twenty-five years old, Co-CEO of Stark Industries.
Public records showed that he was a genius, playboy, and party animal, cut from the same cloth as his brother Tony Stark.
But she had read more non-public records.
This man was much more dangerous than he appeared on the surface.
Beneath the smiling expression lay something that even the higher-ups of HYDRA attached extreme importance to.
Therefore, she could not lower her guard.
Soon, footsteps came from the corridor.
Jessica immediately adjusted her sitting posture.
She straightened her back slightly and wore a just-right smile at the corners of her mouth, neither overly enthusiastic nor appearing cold.
The door was pushed open.
Lucas Stark walked in.
His upright height gave people a strong sense of oppression when he walked through the door.
Broad shoulders and a narrow waist, wearing a black suit with the top two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, looking very casual.
Anyone who didn't know better would think he came to attend a cocktail party rather than to work.
Notably, he was also holding a cup of iced Americano in his hand.
While kicking the door shut with his foot, he shouted toward the corridor.
"Pepper! I already have Jarvis, why are you still finding a babysitter for me? I am not a child!"
Pepper's cold response came from afar down the corridor.
"You lost a few contracts."
"Damn it, I didn't lose them, I willingly gave them up."
"Also, those contracts looked too ugly, the fonts were terrible, who still uses those in 2008?!"
"Luca, did you forget, one of them is worth two hundred million."
"A two-hundred-million contract using that kind of signature makes it even more impossible to sign. This shows the other party has aesthetic issues, and people with aesthetic issues are unreliable in business."
Pepper's footsteps had already faded away, clearly not intending to continue entangling with him.
Luca rolled his eyes and shrugged helplessly.
"You see, she's doing it again. Every time she can't win an argument with me, she pretends not to hear."
After speaking, he turned around.
Then he saw Jessica on the sofa.
Luca was stunned for a moment, and then looked at Jessica with great interest.
Long dark brown hair, exquisite facial features, light and elegant makeup that just appropriately outlined her facial contours.
Wearing a black professional outfit, the skirt was a few centimeters above the knees, neither too long nor too short, both professional and just perfectly showcasing a pair of slender legs.
Luca raised an eyebrow and took a sip of coffee.
Well, Pepper's aesthetic in choosing people this time was really unquestionable.
Jessica stood up and proactively reached out her hand.
"Mr. Stark, hello, I am Jessica. Very glad..."
"Wait."
Luca raised his hand with a straight face to interrupt her.
"Before you finish this opening line, I need to declare one thing first."
Jessica was slightly startled, her extended hand suspended in mid-air.
"May I ask what it is?"
"Mr. Stark is my brother, just call me Luca." Luca shook her hand and grinned in stride.
"Of course, you can also call me handsome, I don't mind, because it's a fact."
The corners of Jessica's mouth lifted slightly, and she also understood.
"Alright, Luca."
"OK, this sounds much more pleasing to the ear than Mr. Stark. As soon as those words come out, I feel twenty years older."
After finishing, Luca's hand was clasped together with hers.
At the very moment of contact, Luca's pupils contracted slightly.
His ability allowed him to clearly perceive something unusual.
For instance, the energy density within Jessica's body far exceeded the level of an ordinary human.
An ordinary person's body was like a cup of warm water in his perception, plain and unremarkable.
But the woman in front of him was more like a sugar-coated bomb.
Proving the facts, she was not an ordinary person.
If this were in the past, Luca might have been alert.
But now?
Interesting, too interesting.
Pepper found her a Superpower as an assistant, which was much more interesting than the interview itself.
Luca naturally let go of his hand, bypassed her, and walked behind the desk.
Then he sat down swaggeringly, leaning his chair back so that he was almost half-reclined.
"So..."
He propped his feet up on the desk and shook the coffee near his mouth.
"Pepper thinks I need someone to manage me?"
Jessica also sat down, her posture calm and composed.
"A personal life assistant's duty is to assist, not to manage."
"What you said is very pretty, but the reality is, the last time Pepper said she was finding an assistant for you, that person resigned the next day."
Luca took a sip of coffee and said these words meaningfully.
"Two days, do you know why?"
"Why?"
"Because I asked her to help me buy coffee, and she bought back a latte."
Luca continued speaking, his expression looking like he was telling a horror story.
"Everyone in the World knows that I only drink iced Americano for coffee, just like I only eat chicken burgers for hamburgers. And this was written on the first page, first line of the job requirements, bolded, underlined, and marked in red."
"I made it very clear, but she actually bought me a latte."
Jessica's expression remained unchanged, holding back a smile as she chimed in: "So, you fired her over a cup of coffee?"
"No, she resigned on her own." Luca said righteously.
"I just spent forty-five minutes after she bought it back explaining the difference in caffeine content and taste between an iced Americano and a latte."
"Uh... you mean, forty-five minutes?"
"That's right, I think I've been very restrained."
Seeing the man acting so innocent at this moment, Jessica finally understood why Pepper had to choose someone personally.
The answer was simple, ordinary people simply couldn't handle him.
"Alright, let's ask something serious." Luca casually picked up the resume from the desk and opened it.
But only a second passed, and he closed it.
"Alright, I've finished reading it."
Jessica had a dumbfounded look on her face, completely failing to react to what had happened.
"Sir, you didn't even turn past the first page."
"The first page is enough. Harvard graduate, two years of administrative management experience, GPA 3.9, five recommendation letters."
He casually rattled off a few pieces of information, his smile incomparably confident.
"You know, I'm a genius, so I read things very quickly."
Jessica's heart sank slightly.
This guy scanned a whole page of information in a second and could still remember the details; on this point alone, he was not an ordinary person.
"Jessica Jones."
Luca muttered the name in his mouth once, then smacked his lips.
"Not a bad name. Too bad, I originally thought you would be named something like Natasha Romanoff or another more exotic name."
He casually tossed the resume aside, glanced up and down at Jessica, and then revealed a playboy's smile.
"Where did you work before?"
"Wayne Foundation, administrative assistant."
Luca raised an eyebrow, somewhat puzzled.
"Wayne? Which Wayne?"
"Uh... Bruce Wayne. The one who does charity."
"Alright, Wayne Foundation... doing charity? As long as it's not Gotham's, that's fine."
Luca nodded and quickly raised the next question.
"So you jumped from the holy mother World to the arms industry, this span is even bigger than me jumping directly from a party to the laboratory. Are you sure you can adapt?"
"Sir, Stark Industries no longer makes weapons." Jessica corrected with a smile.
"Right right right, we now do clean energy." Luca said with a straight face.
"Clean, eco-friendly, pollution-free! Except for our family's iron can smashing a crater every time it lands, we've basically achieved zero-carbon emissions."
Jessica couldn't help letting out a soft chuckle.
She had to admit, this guy indeed had a certain charm that made people lower their guard.
He spoke like rapid-fire artillery; the moment you lost focus you couldn't keep up with the rhythm, and once you kept up you would unconsciously be led away by him.
But the problem was, she couldn't let herself be led away.
Chapter 89 Your Interview Passed
"OK, let me ask you something interesting."
Luca suddenly put his feet down from the desk, leaned forward, crossed his hands and supported them on the desktop, his eyes changing from casual to focused.
The transition was so fast that Jessica barely had time to react.
"If what I ask you to do is different from what is written on your resume, what will you do?"
Jessica was slightly stunned, but still quickly organized her words.
"That depends on the specific matter. If it is a work change within a reasonable scope, I can flexibly cooperate. If it involves the law..."
"Shh." Luca interrupted her, then held his index finger in front of his lips.
"I'll give this answer two points. Out of a total of ten points."
Jessica was stunned again, failing to keep up with the other's train of thought.
"Do you know why it's only two points?" Luca leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to look at her.
"Because this answer is too perfect. Things that are too perfect are either true geniuses or memorized. Judging by your resume, you don't look like a genius. Then it must have been memorized."
After speaking, Luca smiled slightly.
I must say, this smile was very bright and completely non-aggressive.
But a thin layer of sweat still broke out on Jessica's back.
"I'll give you another chance." Luca held out a finger and shook it.
"Don't give me standard answers this time. I need the truth."
Jessica nodded.
Then, she took a deep breath and put on a slightly helpless expression.
"Well... if the salary you offer is high enough, I can do most things."
The atmosphere became quiet, and neither of them spoke.
Luca stared at her for a moment, then beamed with smiles.
"Look! That's right!"
He pointed at Jessica with a satisfied look.
"Honest, direct, likes money."
"This is the kind of employee Stark Industries needs. We are capitalists, not philanthropists, and your previous answer was suitable for applying to be the Secretary-General of the United Nations."
Jessica also smiled, this time a genuine smile.
Although she knew very well in her heart that every word this guy just said was testing her.
From casual to focused, and then from focused back to casual, everything was under his control.
Outside rumors said that Luca Stark was an even more troublesome playboy than his brother, talkative and unreliable.
But at this moment Jessica realized that being talkative was just his protective camouflage.
Beneath the nonsense and jokes, this guy was not simple at all.
"Alright, your interview has passed."
Luca suddenly stood up, picked up his cup and walked towards the door.
"Come to work tomorrow, Pepper will send you the specific arrangements. As for the salary..."
He walked to the door and stopped for a moment, turned sideways, and looked Jessica up and down.
"Hmm, this face is worth a high salary."
Jessica's smile remained unchanged, and she continued to reply.
"I thought you looked at ability."
"Ability is of course important."
Luca pulled open the door and turned back to wink at her.
"But good looks are also a kind of ability. Have you ever seen an ugly assistant of the Stark Family? That does not exist, our family has an aesthetic threshold."
Jessica: "..."
Well, this guy was actually a jerk so openly.
Luca stepped out of the door, then as if remembering something, he turned back, grabbed the door frame and leaned half his body in.
"One last question, of course, this is purely out of curiosity."
Jessica nodded, silently watching him, waiting for the question.
"Do you usually work out?" Luca asked casually.
Jessica's heartbeat accelerated by half a beat.
What does this mean?!
Wanting to proposition me on the first day?!
"Sort of." She kept her smile.
"Maintaining one's physique is part of professional literacy."
"Hmm~~" Luca drew out his voice, his gaze sizing up her ample curves, and then the corners of his mouth slowly curved up.
"I believe you, and you have quite a high degree of professional literacy."
He gave a thumbs-up, then turned and left.
In the corridor, Luca casually tossed the cup into the trash can.
His smile was still on his face, but the content in his eyes had changed.
Jessica Jones.
The energy density is at least several times that of an ordinary person.
Regardless of whether she is a mutant, enhanced human, or alien, in short, she is definitely not the good girl written on her resume.
Is graduating from Harvard true? Maybe.
As for the Wayne Foundation? That was just made up to amuse him.
Could she be sent by some organization?
Luca felt it was highly likely.
The question is which organization?
S.H.I.E.L.D.? It's possible.
HYDRA? Hard to say.
Or some other laboratory with a tongue-twisting name?
He thought all of these were possible.
But this was not important, he was even more excited about this discovery instead.
Luca took out his phone and texted Pepper while walking.
"The assistant matter is settled, starting tomorrow."
Pepper replied instantly on the other end: "You actually didn't scare her away?"
"Potts, you underestimate me. I am the easiest-going boss in all of New York, bar none."
Pepper replied with three dots: "..."
"By the way, your aesthetic for picking people this time is not bad, I'll add a bonus for you."
Pepper sent an eye-rolling expression: "Can you be more serious."
Luca put his phone away and smiled as he pressed the elevator button.
An extraordinary beauty actively came to his side to be an assistant.
And the resume was so flawless without any loopholes.
But the more perfect something was, the bigger the problem.
If an ordinary person encountered this situation, they would probably be nervous, on guard, and find a way to drive her away.
But is Luca an ordinary person?!
She wants to be a spy?
Fine, let her be.
Being a spy right under his nose is better than staying in the dark where he doesn't know who they are.
Putting enemies where you can see them is the philosophy of life of the Stark Family.
Of course there was another reason, but Luca didn't plan to admit it.
It was purely feeling that having a Superpower beauty as an assistant would make life much more interesting.
The elevator door opened, and Luca walked in, pressing the floor for the laboratory.
In the office on the other side, Jessica stood alone in place, and after the footsteps completely disappeared, she let out a slight breath.
At this moment, her tense shoulders finally relaxed.
Did he really not notice? Or did he know but deliberately pretended not to see?
Jessica thought about it and chose the latter.
But anyway, the first step was completed.
She successfully became Luca Stark's personal assistant.
Jessica didn't think much anymore, instead picking up her bag and walking towards the door.
The corners of her mouth slowly curved into an arc, which was the expression of a hunter after locking onto prey.
Except she probably hadn't realized yet.
In this building, who on earth is the hunter and who is the prey.