After seeing Tony and Pepper off, Shaun Vance pulled down the rolling shutter door.
Silence returned to the shop.
He walked behind the counter, and with a subtle thought, a light blue system interface expanded before his eyes.
[System Log Updated]
[Tony Stark · Revive-Revive Fruit Synchronization Rate: 42%]
[New Synchronized Target: Pepper Potts · Op-Op Fruit Synchronization Rate: 0.5% (Status: Awakening Ability)]
[Key Worldline Node “Press Conference” Triggered.
Plot Fluctuation Rate +15%]
Shaun raised an eyebrow.
An increased fluctuation rate meant subsequent events might deviate from the original plot…
which was precisely the outcome he desired.
If this world unfolded exactly as it did in the movies, where would be the novelty in that?
[Base Reward for Selling Devil Fruit: Six Powers · Paper Arts Complete Training Method (Includes Perception Guidance Technique)]
Lines of text and breathing diagrams flooded into his mind.
“Paper Arts…
the precursor to Observation Haki?”
Shaun closed his eyes and sensed it.
It was an exertion technique entirely different from Iron Body.
It required extreme muscle relaxation, sensing changes in air currents, and letting one’s body flutter like a sheet of paper in the wind to dodge attacks with minimal movement.
Exquisite.
But he didn’t start practicing immediately.
Walking into the backyard, Shaun took a deep breath and channeled his muscles according to the breathing method of Iron Body.
The skin on his right arm turned a bluish-grey color, its hardness surging, but the effect dissipated after only three and a half seconds.
“The partial hardening duration has increased, but it’s still not enough.”
He relaxed his posture and wiped off his sweat.
He understood the principle of biting off more than one can chew.
He had only just crossed the threshold with Iron Body and couldn’t even achieve full-body hardening.
Rushing to practice Paper Arts would only leave him empty-handed on both fronts.
“Lay a solid foundation first before anything else.”
Shaun took a cold shower and went to bed early.
…
Late at night, Stark Industries headquarters.
The first-floor lobby was packed with reporters wielding telephoto lenses and microphones, all craning their necks in anticipation.
As a silver Audi R8 pulled up, camera flashes immediately lit up the area in a blinding sheet of light.
Tony pushed the door open and stepped out, with Pepper close behind.
“Tony!
My boy!”
Obadiah Stane came forward with open arms, a wide smile plastered across his heavy face.
“I thank God you came back safe!”
Tony imperceptibly sidestepped him.
“Obie, now’s not the time for tears…
Forgive me for keeping everyone waiting while I was ‘having fun’ on the way back.”
Obadiah knew Tony’s playboy nature all too well and paid no mind to his dodged embrace.
“You look…
unwell.” He shrewdly noticed Tony’s dangerously pale complexion.
“Do you need me to call a doctor?”
“Just aftereffects from a desert vacation.”
Tony offered a dismissive reply and walked straight to the podium.
At the back of the crowd, a man in a black suit quietly approached Pepper.
“Ms.
Potts.”
He handed over a business card.
“Phil Coulson, agent with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”
Pepper absently accepted it, her eyes never leaving Tony on stage.
“Mhm…
right…”
“We’d like to discuss the details of Mr.
Stark’s escape from Afghanistan,” Coulson said in a calm tone, “especially those…
unusual details.”
“Ah, yes.”
Pepper hadn’t truly listened; she stuffed the card into her bag at random.
“I’ll have an assistant get in touch with you.”
With that, she pushed through the crowd toward the stage.
Coulson shook his head helplessly, turning his gaze toward Tony with a thoughtful look.
On stage, Tony adjusted the microphone.
“Everyone, I know what you want to ask.”
He flashed his signature arrogant smile.
“‘Did Tony Stark cry in the desert?’ ‘Did he beg the terrorists to spare his life?’…
The answer is: No, and I made them cry very hard.”
Polite laughter echoed from the audience.
Standing to the side, Obadiah nodded slightly.
Everything seemed to be under control.
But in the next second, Tony’s expression abruptly turned serious.
“I saw weapons made by our company over there.”
He paused, sweeping his eyes over the room.
“In the hands of people who shouldn’t have them, killing people who shouldn’t have died.”
Silence fell over the hall.
“Therefore,” Tony said, emphasizing every word, “I have decided…
to shut down all weapons manufacturing divisions of Stark Industries, effective immediately.”
Dead silence.
For two full seconds.
Then the room exploded.
“Mr.
Stark!
Do you mean permanently?!”
“That will erase ninety percent of the company’s market value!”
“What about military contracts?!”
Reporters shoved forward like madmen.
Obadiah’s expression changed dramatically.
He rushed onto the stage and grabbed the microphone:
“Everyone!
Tony has just suffered a traumatic ordeal.
His health is our top priority right now!”
Turning to Tony, he snarled in a low voice, “Have you lost your mind?!
This will ruin the company!”
Tony looked at him calmly.
“Then let it.”
That gaze was so devoid of emotion that a chill swept through Obadiah’s heart.
“Today’s press conference is over!”
Obadiah forced a smile at the press, gesturing for security to clear the area.
Amid the chaos, Pepper escorted Tony toward the car.
Tony glanced back.
Obadiah stood on stage, the smile completely gone, his dark gaze practically dripping with malice.
On the edge of the crowd, Coulson quietly jotted something down and placed a call:
“Director, the target’s behavior shows a major deviation.
I recommend raising the surveillance level.”
The next morning, Shaun Vance was awakened by his phone ringing.
The screen showed “Carla”.
He answered.
“Mr.
Vance!
Your prediction was spot on!”
Carla’s voice came fast and urgent, against the background noise of a trading floor:
“Tony Stark actually announced the closure of the weapons division at the conference!
Work stoppage notices went out internally this morning!”
“The stock crashed!
It plunged forty percent at opening and keeps falling!
We avoided it completely by holding back!”
Shaun rubbed his eyes, sounding sluggish.
“Mm…
got it.”
“Aren’t you excited?” Carla slowed her pace, confused.
“We avoided massive losses!
Right now analysts are saying Stark Industries is finished—without military contracts, they’re nothing…”
“Carla.”
Shaun interrupted, sitting up.
“When the stock hits rock bottom, go all-in and buy.”
Silence fell on the line for two seconds.
“…What?” Carla thought she had misheard.
“You want to catch a falling knife?
The risk is far too high!
Market confidence has completely collapsed!”
“Don’t underestimate Tony Stark.” Shaun spoke with a hint of amusement in his tone.
“He’s a genius, and geniuses…
are never short of miracles.”
“But…”
“If you want to know more ‘inside information,'” Shaun lowered his voice coaxingly, “you can come to my shop.
I’ll tell you in person.”
Another silence on the other end.
A few seconds later, Carla’s voice softened, carrying a trace of shyness and an imperceptible flicker of anticipation:
“…You’re doing this again.
I visited you two days ago, and my legs are still weak today…”
Shaun chuckled softly.
“Just talking this time, I promise.”
“…Is it really just talking?”
“Of course.
But remember to dress formally.
We might have a special guest tonight.”
Carla’s tone visibly wavered.
“I…
I’m only coming for investment intelligence.
What time?”
“After closing, nine o’clock.”
The line went dead.
Shaun put down his phone and walked to the window.
The fact that Tony had consumed the Revive-Revive Fruit and become a living corpse certainly couldn’t be hidden from SHIELD.
He wondered if the poached egg would send the good old agent Coulson to negotiate, or the famously alluring Black Widow, Natasha?