[Brain Deposit]
[Picture Collection]
[True Heroine: Wanda]
[No Black Widow]
[Character Template Disclaimer: Character templates only inherit superpowers.
Unless specifically mentioned, they generally do not inherit the original character’s personality, memories, experience, skills, or anything similar.]
[Pre-reading Warning: The protagonist is a bastard with a bit of a moral compass, but not much.
He plays around quite a bit and likes making “friends,” frequently engaging in “friendly matches” with them to maintain their relationships.
All the friends he makes possess human form and use human form during matches, but their species is not necessarily human.
If this isn’t your cup of tea, please exit gracefully.
No hate, please.]
…
Las Vegas, USA.
The venue for the Highest Honor of the Year Award presentation.
Clad in full dress uniform, Colonel Rhodes was on stage introducing the evening’s most important honoree.
Below the stage sat military and political elites, business tycoons, and their entourages.
“Tony Stark—visionary, genius, patriot.”
“As the son of legendary weapons developer Howard Stark, he quickly drew national attention with his extraordinary brilliance even as a youth.”
“Built a circuit board at four, constructed his first engine at six, and graduated at the top of his class from MIT at seventeen.”
“Then his father passed away.
Howard’s lifelong friend and partner, Obadiah Stane, stepped in to helm Stark Industries.”
“Until the prodigal son returned at twenty-one to take the reins as the new Chief Executive Officer of Stark Industries, holding ultimate power over the weapons empire.”
“Tony ushered his father’s legacy into a brand-new era—developing smart weapons, advanced machinery, and satellite-guided precision strike technology.”
“Today, Tony Stark has reshaped the landscape of the arms industry.
He defends American freedom and safeguards our nation’s global interests.”
Rhodes paused.
Thunderous applause erupted below.
Colonel Rhodes continued, “As the military liaison to Stark Industries, I have the privilege of working alongside a true patriot who is both my mentor and my dear friend.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my distinct honor to present this year’s Highest Honor Award to Mr.
Tony Stark!”
As his voice fell, applause broke out once more.
However, during the part of the ceremony where the honoree was supposed to step up and receive the award, Tony Stark failed to show up.
“Tony?”
Colonel Rhodes scanned the room while holding the trophy, unable to find his target.
He could only look awkwardly and helplessly toward a round table near the center of the hall where only two people were seated.
Meeting Colonel Rhodes’s eyes, Obadiah was about to stand up to accept the award on Tony’s behalf, but Leon, who was sitting at the same table, beat him to it and headed straight for the stage.
Seeing this, Obadiah, whose rear had only lifted an inch off his seat, had no choice but to sit back down, offering a fake smile as he watched Leon accept the trophy on stage.
As Leon stepped up, gasped admiration swept through the women in the audience.
The reason was simple: Leon was absurdly handsome.
A wicked, rebellious kind of handsome!
Beneath his casual, uninhibited mature exterior ran the polished demeanor of a long-time superior.
With just a crooked smirk, he radiated an overwhelming masculine charm.
This was Tony Stark’s twin brother and our protagonist—Leon Stark.
Perhaps because they were fraternal twins, the Stark brothers didn’t look identical.
Leon was vastly handsomer than Tony.
As the second son of Stark Industries, he was a famous playboy among the American elite, idling his days away immersed in luxury, fine wine, and women.
This was why Colonel Rhodes hadn’t mentioned him during Tony’s introduction earlier.
Aside from a breathtakingly handsome face and a well-sculpted physique maintained solely to enjoy his “friendships” without fatigue, Leon was virtually good-for-nothing.
He was so poor he had nothing left except money.
If Tony hadn’t frozen his bank cards—fearing Leon would die from making “friends” after not stepping out of the house for seven days straight—and forced him to come out for fresh air and grab the award on his way, Leon wouldn’t have bothered attending this useless ceremony.
Isn’t making friends way better?
“Oh, thank God you saved me, Leon,” Rhodes whispered with relief.
“Otherwise I would’ve cringed hard enough to dig out a mansion with my toes.”
“Don’t mention it, Rhodes,” Leon replied with a smile.
Turning to the audience, he casually held up the trophy and stroked it up and down, full of effortless ease.
“Oh, this damn trophy sure is a beauty.”
*Clap, clap, clap!*
Despite Leon’s crude remark, the guests below applauded enthusiastically.
Such was the influence of Stark Industries.
Even if he yelled a “Motherfucker,” he would still get a standing ovation.
Leon pressed his hands down, and the audience quickly fell silent.
“Haha, thanks for the support, everyone.”
“Obviously, I’m not Tony.
But if I were him, I’d tell you all what an honor and joy it is to receive such a prestigious award.”
“As you all know, Tony’s greatest virtue is also his biggest flaw—once he starts working, he gets so absorbed he forgets to eat or sleep…”
Leon spoke eloquently, hyping up his brother without needing a draft.
Meanwhile, Tony Stark was absorbed in getting high and having fun at a nearby casino, forgetting to eat and sleep.
After the award ceremony, Rhodes and Leon tracked him down immediately.
At that moment, Tony was throwing dice with a young model.
“I can’t believe you stood me up just to party here with a young model!” Rhodes complained bitterly.
“They said you’d be deeply honored if I presented the award…”
“Of course, I am deeply honored to receive an award from Colonel Rhodes,” Tony read flatly from an imaginary script.
Then his eyes drifted to Leon, who was already holding a companion in his arms and pushing all of Tony’s chips into an all-in on the table.
“So, where’s my trophy, Leon?”
“Gave it to her.” Leon pointed at the scantily clad young model in his arms who was showing off her trick moves.
“Felt pretty good.”
Seeing this, Tony shrugged and chuckled, unclear whether he meant the trophy or the model.
“I give up on you two.
Every brother plays harder than the last.”
Colonel Rhodes covered his face in disbelieving despair, though the inch-wide gaps between his fingers made it clear he was still watching.
Tony and Leon were long accustomed to Rhodes’s hypocrisy and shared a tacit smile.
Behind the brothers, Happy—their burly bodyguard-slash-assistant whose stomach was big enough to sail a boat—stood diligently on guard, symbolically ensuring their safety.
The group partied from eight in the evening until one in the morning.
As they split up, Rhodes reminded Tony again: “You have to demonstrate your latest achievement to the military tomorrow.
Don’t you dare be late.”
“Got it, got it,” Tony answered dismissively, turning to look at Leon—who had already gone three rounds and somehow still had the appetite to order takeout to bring home.
“Leon, why don’t you go in my place?
You don’t want…”
“Woah, hold on!” Before Tony could finish, Leon shook his head in refusal.
“If you try threatening me with frozen bank cards again, watch out or I might cut your throat with a knife one night, believe it or not?
Not even Pepper could stop me, I guarantee it!”
“Fine, fine.” Tony shrugged, sighing with regret.
“Leon, you still don’t understand the art of an explosion.”
“What art of an explosion,” Leon rolled his eyes at Tony.
“Once you get hit by one of our company’s own missiles, you’ll learn to behave.”
Outside the hotel, flanked by Happy and a troupe of bodyguards, the two brothers were about to get into their car to head home when an attractive blonde woman in an executive suit and black stockings approached.
Leon’s eyes lit up instantly.