The Manhattan air was filled with the sweet, luxurious scent characteristic of the festive season.
The "Winter Star" charity gala on the top floor of Lane Tower was undoubtedly the most dazzling social vortex of the Christmas season.
Hawk Lane, the new king of Wall Street who had just sent Bates Capital to its grave a few days prior, now stood at the entrance of the banquet hall. Dressed in a perfectly tailored midnight blue velvet tuxedo, his smile was like a meticulously polished diamond—brilliant, dazzling, exuding an undeniable sense of control.
Beside him, Andy wore an ice-silver backless gown, like moonlight condensed, beautiful, sharp, and serene.
The guest list was a "Christmas wish list" of power and wealth.
Tony Stark's iconic flashy red supercar was parked downstairs; though he hadn't arrived, his aura had already pierced the ceiling!
When he entered, he brought his own spotlight effect, but by his side was always Pepper.
Norman Osborn arrived with his young son, Harry Osborn, one old and one young.
General Ross, in a crisp military uniform, his chest adorned with medals recounting past battles, sharply scanned the entire hall.
Giants of the military, political, and business worlds gathered, their conversations like exquisite background music.
Hawk immediately approached Tony, who was already surrounded by a lively crowd. After greeting Pepper, who looked a bit annoyed beside Tony, Hawk smiled brightly:
"Uncle Tony, so glad you could make it. I heard your new weapon's PPT presentation broke the record for conference length again? Hope tonight's charity auction helps you find some 'efficiency'."
Tony let out a dry laugh at the "Uncle Tony" address, then changed the subject:
"Efficiency? Lane, you played that Bates game with speed, precision, and ruthlessness, leaving nothing behind. What I do is 'in-depth elaboration,' ensuring investors... well, and potential buyers, understand what they're getting. By the way, I hear you've been quite interested in 'special security' lately?"
Tony subtly glanced towards a spot not far behind Hawk.
There, Ja Yoon and Shin Shia stood quietly, like two shadows blending into the background.
Ja Yoon wore a simple black gown, her eyes as calm as still water;
Shin Shia, on the other hand, was in a sharp white pantsuit, exuding the keen spirit of youth.
Their appearance was like two pebbles dropped into a calm lake, creating invisible ripples among a specific group of people.
"Word travels that fast, huh?" Hawk spread his hands. "They're just two ladies born with a bit more strength."
In the upper echelons of America, there were no airtight walls. News of the Witch Project, in various forms, had already reached the ears of these ravenous capitalists.
Who wouldn't want superhuman strength? Who wouldn't want to be an unkillable existence?
Who cared if it was a "Warlock" or a "Witch"?
At this moment, a "Russian wealthy businesswoman" named Natasha Romanoff was holding a glass of champagne, her dazzling red hair swaying, chatting and laughing charmingly with an energy tycoon.
A miniature earpiece in her ear relayed an instruction: "Natasha, target status?"
Natasha subtly tilted her head, whispering in Russian, her voice as soft as a breath: "Targets Ja Yoon and Shin Shia are on alert. Hawk Lane... he's smiling like an angel."
Aboard the Quinjet, hovering in the stratosphere with optical camouflage activated, Fury heard Natasha's simile and was a little speechless: "Please appreciate his handsomeness after the mission. Maintain observation. Stark and Osborn are also here; don't let the situation get out of control. Especially Ross, I see he's almost itching to 'recruit'."
In a corner of the screen, General Ross was speaking in low tones with a high-ranking Department of Defense official, his gaze occasionally drifting towards Ja Yoon.
General Ross himself was in charge of the military's human experimentation, and he was very keen on super-powered individuals and various biological experiments. Furthermore, the US Forces Korea also fell under General Ross's jurisdiction.
Fury suddenly felt that General Ross might know more about the Witch Project than he did!
Norman Osborn, holding a wine glass, approached Hawk, a formal smile on his face: "Mr. Lane, congratulations on another victory. How's the digestion of Bates's legacy going? I hear Lane Industries' stock has been soaring lately, making even Osborn Industries feel a slight... pressure?"
His words were veiled barbs.
Hawk's smile remained unchanged as he calmly responded: "Mr. Osborn flatters me. The market always favors efficiency and innovation. Speaking of which, the industrial sector is merely a sideline for Osborn; your breakthroughs in biotechnology are truly impressive. How's your 'Physical Enhancement Project' progressing? Sounds very promising."
He steered the conversation towards Osborn's own closely guarded domain.
Norman's eye twitched almost imperceptibly, his tone turning cold: "Trade secrets, Mr. Lane. But these two by your side... special assistants? They have a very unique aura. A new product from which security company?"
"They are my personal 'risk consultants'," Hawk said casually, his eyes meaningful. "Specifically for dealing with some... unconventional business risks. After all, this world is sometimes more complex than the rules of Wall Street, isn't it?"
He pointedly looked in the direction of General Ross.
At this moment, Harry Osborn, having shaken off several socialites who were surrounding him, curiously walked towards Shin Shia in the quiet corner.
His young face held a friendly smile: "Hi, you're very unique. I'm Harry Osborn. You look... cool."
Shin Shia looked up at him, her eyes clear yet scrutinizing, and responded briefly: "Shin Shia."
Her gaze swept over Harry, as if penetrating him, looking deeper into something hidden.
"Are you sick?" Shin Shia suddenly blurted out, startling even Ja Yoon, who turned to look.
"Uh... what?" Harry seemed a bit choked.
"Nothing."
Shin Shia smiled and shook her head. She could tell that this young man in front of her seemed to have some illness, but it hadn't manifested yet, unlike the old man named Norman beside him, who was already gravely ill.
But that had nothing to do with her. Mind her own business, yes, Mr. Hawk said so.
Harry felt a bit uncomfortable under her gaze, his smile somewhat stiff.
The crystal chandelier refracted brilliant light, and the champagne tower flowed slowly amidst the clinking of glasses.
"It seems the collapse of Bates Capital has made tonight's champagne exceptionally delicious."
The crisp sound of high heels tapping the floor came from behind, accompanied by a faint scent of rose mixed with gunpowder, interrupting Hawk and Norman's confrontation.
"Mr. Hawk Lane."
He turned, and what greeted his eyes was a woman with fiery red hair, a deep V-neck black dress outlining her graceful curves, her red lips slightly upturned, her eyes holding a captivating glimmer.
Seeing this, Norman nodded and smiled at the two before retreating.