Manhattan’s air was thick with holiday cheer and extravagance.
The “Winter Star” charity gala on the top floor of Lane Tower was undoubtedly the most dazzling social event of the Christmas season.
Hawk, the new king of Wall Street who had buried Bates Capital just days earlier, stood at the entrance of the banquet hall in a perfectly tailored midnight blue velvet suit, his smile like a meticulously polished diamond, brilliant and radiating absolute control.
Beside him, Andy wore an ice-silver backless gown, like moonlight made flesh, beautiful with a sharp, cool edge.
The guest list read like a “Christmas wish list” of power and wealth.
Tony Stark’s signature flashy red supercar was parked downstairs, and his presence was felt before he even walked in!
When he entered, it was as if he carried his own spotlight with him, Pepper, as always, at his side.
Norman Osborn arrived with his young son Harry, father and son a study in contrasts.
General Ross wore a crisp military dress uniform, the medals on his chest a record of past battles, his sharp gaze sweeping the room.
Titans of the military, political, and business worlds mingled, their conversation humming like elegant background music.
Hawk walked up to Tony, who was already surrounded by a crowd of admirers, greeted the somewhat exasperated Pepper beside him, then flashed a bright smile.
“Uncle Tony, so glad you could make it.
I heard your new weapons presentation broke the record for length again?
I hope tonight’s charity auction can help you rediscover a sense of ‘efficiency.'” Hearing himself called ‘uncle,’ Tony gave a dry laugh and changed the subject.
“Efficiency?
Lane, you handled that whole Bates Capital play fast, precise, and ruthless, without leaving so much as a scrap behind.
I call what I do ‘in-depth exposition,’ making sure investors…
hmm, and potential buyers, understand exactly what they’re paying for.
By the way, I hear you’ve recently taken quite an interest in ‘special security’?” Tony glanced meaningfully at a spot just behind Hawk.
There, Koo Ziyun and Shin Si-ah stood quietly, like two shadows melted into the background.
Koo Ziyun wore a simple black dress, her gaze as calm as still water; Shin Si-ah wore a sharp white pantsuit, with all the keen edge of youth.
The two of them were like stones tossed into a still lake, sending invisible ripples among certain people in the room.
“News travels that fast?” Hawk spread his hands.
“They’re just two ladies who happened to be born with a little extra strength, that’s all.” In America’s upper circles, no wall can keep a secret.
Word of the Witch Project and what it created had already reached those predatory capitalists.
Who wouldn’t want immense power?
Who wouldn’t want to become unkillable?
Who cared whether it was called a “male witch” or a “witch”?
At that moment, a so-called Russian business magnate named Natalia Romanova held a glass of champagne, her striking red hair swaying as she chatted and laughed charmingly with an energy tycoon.
Her tiny earpiece delivered an order: “Natalia, status on the targets?” Natalia tilted her head slightly and whispered in Russian in a voice barely above a breath: “Targets Koo Ziyun and Shin Si-ah are on alert.
Hawk…
he’s smiling like an angel.” Aboard a Quinjet hovering in the stratosphere under optical camouflage, Fury did not quite know how to respond to Natalia’s comparison.
“Save the compliments on his looks for after the mission.
Keep watching.
Stark and Osborn are both there, so don’t let things spiral out of control.
Especially Ross.
I can tell he’s about to lose patience and go ‘recruiting.'” In one corner of the screen, General Ross was speaking quietly with a senior Defense Department official, his gaze flicking toward Koo Ziyun from time to time.
Ross was in charge of the military’s human experimentation programs and had a personal obsession with superpowered individuals and all kinds of biological experiments.
On top of that, U.S.
Forces Korea also fell under his jurisdiction.
Fury suddenly suspected that when it came to the Witch Project, General Ross might know even more than he did.
Wine glass in hand, Norman Osborn walked up to Hawk with a polished, businesslike smile.
“Mr.
Lane, congratulations on another victory.
How is absorbing Bates Capital’s legacy going?
I hear Lane Industries’ stock has been climbing nicely lately.
Even Osborn Industries has felt a bit of…
pressure?” His words hid a barbed edge.
Hawk’s smile didn’t waver as he responded calmly.
“Mr.
Osborn, you flatter me.
The market always rewards efficiency and innovation.
That said, industry is really just a side business for Osborn.
It’s your cutting-edge breakthroughs in biotechnology that truly impress me.
How is that ‘physical enhancement project’ of yours coming along?
It sounds very promising.” He had steered the conversation straight toward a field Osborn kept a closely guarded secret.
Norman’s eye twitched, almost imperceptibly, and his tone turned cold.
“Trade secret, Mr.
Lane.
But those two beside you…
special assistants?
They have a very distinctive air about them.
Are they a new product from some security company?” “They’re my personal risk consultants,” Hawk said lightly, with a pointed look.
“They specialize in handling certain…
unconventional business risks.
After all, the world is sometimes more complicated than the rules of the game on Wall Street, isn’t it?” He glanced meaningfully in General Ross’s direction.
Just then, Harry Osborn broke away from the socialites surrounding him and wandered curiously over to Shin Si-ah in the quiet corner.
His young face wore a friendly smile.
“Hi, you’re different.
I’m Harry Osborn.
You look…
cool.” Shin Si-ah looked up at him, her gaze clear but appraising, and answered briefly.
“Shin Si-ah.” Her gaze swept over Harry as if piercing straight through him to something hidden deep within him.
“Are you sick?” Shin Si-ah’s question came out of nowhere, and even Koo Ziyun looked over in shock.
“Uh…
what?” Harry faltered for a moment.
“Nothing.” Shin Si-ah smiled and shook her head.
She could tell the young man in front of her had some illness that hadn’t surfaced yet, unlike the old man Norman beside him, who was already beyond saving.
But that was none of her business either.
*Mind your own business.
Yeah, that’s what Mr.
Lane said.* Harry shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, his smile stiffening slightly.
The crystal chandelier scattered brilliant light as champagne trickled slowly down the tower amid the clinking of glasses.
“It seems the collapse of Bates Capital has made tonight’s champagne taste especially sweet.” From behind came the sharp click of high heels against the floor, along with a faint scent of roses mixed with gunpowder, cutting through the standoff between Hawk and Norman.
“Mr.
Hawk.” He turned to see a woman with flame-red hair, a deep-V black dress tracing her graceful curves, red lips curved slightly, and a captivating gleam in her eyes.
At that, Norman nodded, smiled at the two of them, and stepped away.