The private jet broke through the clouds and flew in the direction of New York.
Tony slumped in the leather seat, the electromagnet on his chest still humming faintly, the grease on his face uncleaned, looking just like he had just crawled out of a coal mine.
He stared at Logan opposite him, who had his legs crossed and was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, the corners of his mouth twitching repeatedly.
“I say, can’t you drink slower? You don’t have to go all out just because it’s free on the plane, right?”
Logan put down the bottle, wiped his mouth, and let the liquor drip down his stubble without caring: “If it’s free, it’d be a waste not to drink it. Besides, saving your life, what’s wrong with drinking two bottles of your wine? If you hired me outside for this kind of life-risking job, the price would be much higher than this.”
“Expensive?
Isn’t the salary I pay you enough?” Tony rolled his eyes, reaching out to touch the sunglasses in his pocket, only to grab empty air and remember he was wearing a prisoner’s uniform now with nothing left: “I’ve figured it out, in your eyes, besides money, there’s only wine, nothing else.”
“Otherwise what? Talk to you about ideals?” Logan sneered, pulled a cigar from his bag, and bit it in his mouth without lighting it.
Smoking wasn’t allowed on the plane, and he still understood that little rule: “My ideal is not to go to work, to walk the dog, drink, and fish at home everyday. If you hadn’t given me so much, I would have resigned long ago.”
Tony was choked speechless by him, and simply turned his head to look out the window.
Only as he looked and looked, the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved up a bit.
He believed these words.
If someone else had saved him, who knows how they would have shown immense gratitude and loyalty to climb up; only this guy Logan, from start to finish, kept muttering about salary, subsidies, and holidays, without the slightest intention of trying to cozy up.
It was precisely because of this that he felt it was rare.
When the plane landed at the private airport in New York, Pepper had long been waiting on the tarmac with people.
Seeing Tony get off the plane, her eyes instantly turned red, and the documents she was clutching were crumpled, yet she still forced herself to maintain her professionalism and hurried forward.
“Mr. Stark, it’s truly great that you’re alright.”
“What could possibly happen to me.” Tony shrugged feebly, just trying to act cool when his steps weakened for a moment, and Logan beside him reached out and gave him a hand.
He glared at Logan, signaling not to ruin his act, before continuing to pull out a smile at Pepper: “How is the company over there?”
“The news has been kept under tight wraps; the outside world only knows you lost contact during an inspection in Afghanistan for three days, and it hasn’t fermented into a kidnapping news story yet.” Pepper reported quickly, her gaze swiftly sweeping over the exposed electromagnet device on Tony’s chest, and then looking at Logan beside him who was covered in bloodstains yet biting a cigar like nothing was wrong, a trace of lingering fear flashing in the depths of her eyes: “The stock price has only fluctuated by less than two points, and Obadiah has already been stabilizing the situation. Once you show your face, it will bounce right back up soon.”
“Consider him sensible.” Tony snorted, but he was crystal clear in his mind.
He had some idea what scheme that old man Obadiah was hatching, but he didn’t have the energy to argue with him right now.
The group got into the cars and headed toward the downtown area.
Logan didn’t cram into the same car as Tony, instead riding the harley Pepper had sent over, following behind the motorcade.
The wind poured into his collar, blowing away the lingering smell of gunpowder and blood on his body.
With the cigar in his mouth, he didn’t twist the throttle fast, swaying leisurely as if he were out for a joyride. This chapter was taken from novelping.com without permission.
When the motorcade arrived at Stark Tower, a good number of reporters had already surrounded downstairs.
When Tony got out of the car, the camera flashes instantly lit up into a sheet.
He raised his hand to block them, wearing his habitual dissolute smile, and dismissed the matter of losing contact in just a few words into the microphone, only claiming that he encountered a sandstorm during the inspection, got separated from the team, and was rescued by local herdsmen.
A pack of ghost stories, yet no one dared to question it.
Logan parked the motorcycle in the underground garage and didn’t go up to join the hustle and bustle.
He directly took the elevator back to the lounge on the 36th floor.
The first thing he did was take off his blood-stained jacket and throw it out for dry cleaning, then took a hot shower, changed into a clean white tank top and cargo pants, and collapsed onto the sofa like he was falling apart.
Although he didn’t suffer any serious injuries this trip, his nerves had been constantly strained—staying up late waiting and fighting and killing—even with his healing factor, he felt a bit tired.
He had barely dozed off for ten minutes when the door of the lounge was pushed open.
Tony had changed into a clean suit, the electromagnet on his chest covered by his shirt, with only a faint outline bulging out.
He was holding a document in his hand and threw it onto the coffee table in front of Logan.
“What is this?” Logan opened his eyes, glanced at the cover of the document, and didn’t reach out to take it.
“Look for yourself.” Tony sat down on the opposite sofa, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and spoke in a deliberately casual tone: “2% of the shares of Stark Industries, consider it your bonus for this trip.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, reached out, picked up the document, and flipped through it.
Black and white on paper, official seals and signatures all complete, it wasn’t a joke.
He quickly calculated in his mind: with Stark Industries’ current market value, 2% of the shares…
Good grief, it was enough to lie down and smoke cigars and drink whiskey for the rest of his life.
“Yo, so generous?” He put down the document and looked at Tony with a smile: “Aren’t you afraid I’ll resign and run away after taking the shares?”
“Can you run away?” Tony rolled his eyes, took a sip of wine, paused, and lowered his voice slightly, losing his usual frivolous manner: “Also, I won’t tell anyone about your identity as a Mutant.”
The lounge fell silent for a few seconds.
Logan looked at him and suddenly smiled.
He reached out and patted Tony’s shoulder with a moderate force, without speaking; everything was in that smile.
Tacit understanding.
He knew Tony was smart; in the cave, bullets turning around and gun barrels twisting like hemp flowers—anyone with a brain could guess something was wrong.
Tony didn’t ask or probe to the bottom, but instead took the initiative to say he would keep it secret, which was much more open and straightforward than he had expected. Read this novel at novelping . com for the best experience.
“Fine, consider I owe you a favor.” Logan picked up the document, shoved it into his pocket, and resumed his scoundrel look: “However, shares are shares, the salary still needs to be raised, and as for that week of vacation of mine, don’t even think about reneging.”
“In your dreams.” Tony scolded in exasperation, but felt relieved in his heart.
He was actually quite afraid of Logan exchanging polite pleasantries with him; now this felt just right: “I’ll give you two weeks of vacation, paid. But there’s one condition: your phone must be turned on, and I need to be able to reach you if something comes up.”
“Deal.”
The two chatted idly for a few more words before Tony was called away by Pepper to attend a board meeting.
Pocketing the share documents, Logan leisurely left Stark Tower.
He didn’t go straight home; instead, he made a detour to the hospital.
Ethan’s family had already arrived, and having received notification long ago, were waiting at the hospital for checkups at this moment.
Although Ethan didn’t suffer any serious injuries, a month of fear and anxiety had made him lose a large circle of weight.
Seeing Logan walk in, he quickly stood up, his face full of gratitude.
“Mr. Howlett, why are you here?”
“Just passing by, seeing if you’re dead yet.” Logan leaned against the door frame, shaking the fruit basket he was carrying—just casually grabbed from the downstairs convenience store, the packaging all crumpled: “Have all your relatives arrived?”
“They’re here, they’re here.” Ethan nodded with a smile, pointing to the inner ward where his wife was holding their child and shedding tears: “Thanks to you, otherwise our family…”
“Stop right there, don’t say polite formalities.” Logan interrupted him, pulled a bank card from his pocket and threw it over: “There’s one million U.S. dollars inside, Tony asked me to give it to you as a resettlement allowance. Whether you want to stay in the United States or go back in the future, do as you please. If you want to work, let me know later; Tony has plenty of positions for you over there.”
Ethan pinched the bank card, stunned for a long time without coming to his senses.
He knew Mr.
Stark was generous, but he never expected him to be generous to this extent.
By the time he wanted to say thank you again, Logan had already turned and left, leaving only a swaying figure behind.
Leaving the hospital, Logan mounted his harley and headed straight for home.
Just as he drove to the entrance of the residential complex, he saw John walking that French bulldog, with Helen arm-in-arm with him, looking much better in complexion than before.
“Logan?” John saw him and was a bit surprised: “Haven’t seen you walking the dog these past few days, were you away on a business trip?”
“Yeah, went out of town to take care of some business.” Logan took off his helmet, replied casually, and his gaze swept over Helen: “How is Helen’s health?”
“Much better, the Doctor said it’s well controlled.” Helen nodded with a smile, her tone full of gratitude: “Last time thanks to your reminder, otherwise we wouldn’t have taken it seriously. Are you free tonight? Come over to our house for dinner.”
“Next time, just got back, covered in dust.” Logan waved his hand, didn’t chat much more, twisted the throttle, and entered the residential complex.