Eight o'clock in the morning.A private villa on Long Island, New York.
The urgent ring of the phone echoed from the living room. The man lying on the bed was jolted awake, blinking at the bright sunlight outside the window. He rubbed his messy, nest-like hair and got up.
Ten minutes later, half-dressed with his upper body bare, the man tapped the button to play the voice messages in the living room.
"Dear, it's me—Mom. I heard you've already come back from China. I hope you had a good time there. I've run into some work issues, and I'm already on a plane to France. I probably won't be back for four months. The teachers from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters called me—your sister has a few… minor problems you need to deal with. So after you finish resting, you'd better take a trip to Staten Island. And if anything comes up, contact me immediately. I don't want Charise turning into some street-corner delinquent."
"Yi, it's me—Ororo. I know you're back. First, thank you for the gift you sent from China. It's beautiful, I love it. Also, your sister has been seriously breaking school rules lately. She used her powers to sneak out at night with a few troublemakers. We're worried they'll go places they absolutely should not go. So if you have time, you should really talk to Charise. Alright, contact me when you can."
"Hi, dear Yi. I heard you're back from China—well, I hope all those cute Chinese girls aren't heartbroken. I hate to disturb your vacation… then again, you take vacations all the time, so I guess it doesn't matter. Anyway, I need your help. Obadiah wants to sell our Jericho missiles to those extremist militants in the Middle East. God knows what he's thinking. I want to talk him out of it, but he seems determined this time—he's even planning to call a board meeting to vote on it. He's apparently convinced quite a few people already. You know I need backup to stop him. As a friend, I'm sure you won't refuse me. I'll wait for your reply. Hurry."
After listening to the messages, the now-adult Zhou Yi rubbed his chin in thought. After hesitating for a moment, he decided it was best to return the important calls first. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. It rang twice before being picked up.
"Hi, Yi. Calling this early isn't like you. I doubt you dialed me because you missed me."
"Ororo, if you say things like that, it really hurts my feelings. You should know, even when I was in China, I missed you the whole time. The moment I came back, I wanted to hear your voice."
A light laugh came through the receiver before Ororo replied, "Sounds nice—but I bet you fooled more than a few naïve girls over there. Alright, what do you really want?"
"Hey now, Ororo, I've never fooled anyone. And you know I've always cared about you."
"Sure, sure. And not only me. Anyway, I have to teach now. If you need something, come to the school this afternoon." And with that, Ororo hung up. Zhou Yi awkwardly scratched his cheek, then dialed another number.
"Hello, this is the Stark residence. I am Jarvis. How may I assist you, Mr. Zhou Yi?"
"Jarvis, is Tony in? If he is, connect me."
"Of course, sir. One moment."
Ten seconds later, a playful voice came through.
"I thought you were planning to disappear again, Yi!"
"If it weren't for your message, I would have disappeared for a while. I just found a new martial arts instructor."
"Alright, alright, Master Fighter. Let's talk business. What do you think about Obadiah's proposal?"
"This one's up to you. Don't worry, you have my support."
Controlling the phone mid-air with his telekinesis, Zhou Yi started changing into a suit while speaking.
"That's a relief. With your six percent share, this won't be a problem. I owe you one." Tony let out a long breath, making Zhou Yi laugh.
"I don't get it, Tony. If you don't want this deal, why not just block it? You invented the weapon. Legally, if you veto it, even the board can't override you—the patent's yours."
"Hey! You know Obadiah is an old friend of my father's. Stark Industries wouldn't be what it is today without his decades of work. Both sentimentally and logically, I have to give him some face. What you said is just my last-resort option."
Zhou Yi could only nod at that, then changed the subject.
"When does the meeting start? You know if I'm late, you're on your own."
"I'll drag it out until you get here if I have to. It starts at ten. Considering your driving skills, you'll make it to Stark Tower in time."
"Oh? The great playboy Tony Stark complimenting someone else's driving? That's new." Zhou Yi chuckled as he put on his jacket and stepped outside the villa.
"After seeing you behind a wheel, I decided to stay far away from you—at least when you're driving. Alright, enough chatting. Obadiah just arrived. Hurry—I don't want him lecturing me forever."
"Relax. I'll be there soon."
He hung up, slid into the driver's seat, and with a low engine roar, sped toward Manhattan.
Meanwhile, inside Stark Tower, a neatly groomed man with a stylish goatee was walking toward the top-floor conference room with a tall, middle-aged man. The two chatted and laughed as they walked, while nearby employees silently watched the two high-level figures until they disappeared from view. Well… except for some female employees whose heated stares were a little too obvious.
"Tony, you disappoint me. Everything I do is for Stark Industries—why can't you understand that?" The middle-aged man, Obadiah Stane, looked genuinely pained, like he was staring at a wasteful, unfilial son.
Tony puffed out his cheeks and muttered something like "Here we go again," before lazily replying, "Dear Uncle Obadiah, I know how much profit this deal would bring us. But you need to understand: we're weapons manufacturers, not war supporters—especially wars started under… strange slogans. At the very least, the White House won't approve."
"The idiots in the White House? Money shuts their mouths. So don't use that excuse on me. Tony, nobody refuses profit. And war isn't our fault—we supply weapons, we don't start wars. What happens there has nothing to do with us." Obadiah snorted at the mention of the White House, then tried again with a lecturing tone.
The expression was so earnest it almost made the infamous playboy Tony Stark reflect deeply on his sins… almost. But that "almost" was something no human force could bridge.
Still arguing, the two entered the conference room.
Inside, the seats were filled with board members and decision-makers. Seeing Tony and Obadiah enter, they stood automatically. To them, the two were boss-level figures, and they were just employees under these bosses.
Just as the meeting was about to begin, Obadiah clapped Tony's shoulder and whispered, "Tony, don't act on impulse this time. Trust me—our choice is what's best for Stark Industries."
"Of course, of course." Tony blinked. His neatly combed goatee quivered with amusement. "I always make the right decisions."
Driving the roaring, beast-like V-REX Tyrannosaurus, Zhou Yi sped through Manhattan's curious stares and pulled into Stark Tower's underground parking garage. The thunderous engine naturally drew the attention of the security and the secretary waiting for him.
"Good morning, Pepper! Didn't expect Tony to make you wait down here for me. I thought he'd try to separate us forever like a prison warden."
The beautiful and capable blonde gave him a playful smile. "I believe Mr. Zhou Yi, having completed his long sentence, has been deemed trustworthy enough for supervised visitation."
"Alright, alright. You're always on Tony's side. Fortunately, the ingenious Mr. Zhou Yi anticipated this. Miss Potts, your bribe has already been delivered to the warden. I'm sure your beloved warden will return it to you."
Laughing and chatting, Zhou Yi and Pepper stepped into the elevator leading to the conference room.
"Yi, you know Tony will never give me things people give to him," Pepper sighed, clearly exasperated with her two prank-loving bosses.
"That, Miss Potts, is a problem for someone with both beauty and brains." Zhou Yi pushed open the meeting room door and loudly announced to the suddenly silent crowd:
"Good morning, everyone. Whatever you're discussing—include me. As Stark Industries' third-largest shareholder, I believe I still have a voice."
Obadiah, who had been confidently leaning over the table a second earlier, froze with disbelief at Zhou Yi's entrance. Then he leaned toward Tony and hissed,
"You called this guy back, didn't you?"
"It wasn't me, I swear!" Tony held up a hand solemnly.
Most people in the room rolled their eyes. Tony Stark—scientist, billionaire, playboy. And "playboy" told everyone exactly how much weight his promises carried.
"Yi Zhou, this is a Stark Industries board meeting. You're forty minutes late. As the person who called this meeting, I don't believe you have the right to speak anymore." Obadiah practically ground his teeth. Dealing with Tony was already bad enough—now another troublemaker, one no easier than Tony, had arrived. He was 80% sure the meeting was doomed. But as long as there was even a sliver of hope, he refused to give up—so the first thing he wanted was to kick this late arrival out.