” An hour later.
*Ding-dong.* The doorbell rang.
Opening the door, a handsome, suit-clad middle-aged man appeared on the threshold.
“Hello, Mr.
Parker,” Tony Stark took the lead in offering a warm, smiling greeting.
He seemed remarkably approachable—far from high-and-mighty as one might imagine, and showing none of the aggressive, sinister malice associated with capitalists in Spider-Man Noir’s memory.
“Hello, Mr.
Stark,” Peter said, pausing for a fraction of a second before nodding, stepping aside, and gesturing for Tony Stark to come in.
Tony Stark glanced at Peter with a hint of surprise.
He had actually been keeping an eye on Peter for more than just a day or two.
Ever since Peter gained his abilities and started slipping into a homemade Onesie suit to play street hero as “Spider-Boy,” Tony had noticed his existence.
From there, uncovering the real identity behind the Spider-Boy mask had been a trivial task.
After gathering Peter’s background information and concluding that his activities were merely a superhero roleplay by a teenager who idolized superheroes and wanted to become one, Tony hadn’t given him much further attention.
He had even gone so far as to erase a few digital tracks for Peter to ensure the kid wouldn’t be targeted by the wrong people or draw unnecessary trouble.
Because of that, while he hadn’t deliberately shadowed him, he had continuously collected updates regarding Peter.
Among the wealth of information forming his impression of Peter, “composed” was certainly not a word on the list.
In fact, Tony Stark’s adjective for Peter had been: naive.
He couldn’t even be called mature yet.
“How’ve you been lately?” Tony Stark inquired out of nowhere, studying Peter carefully.
“Uh, pretty good, Mr.
Stark,” Peter said.
“My name’s Peter.
You can just call me by my first name.” “Alright then, Peter.
I’m Tony,” Tony Stark clapped Peter on the shoulder.
“Wow, you’re a sturdy young man.” “Mr.
Stark, please come in and have a seat,” Aunt May chimed in right on cue, extending an invitation.
Peter made a welcoming gesture as well.
Stepping into the house, Tony Stark took a brief look around the living room before settling onto the sofa.
While Aunt May went to brew tea, Peter sat down beside Tony Stark.
“Mr.
Stark…” “Call me Tony.” “Alright, Tony.
So…
what brings you here to see me?” Peter asked in a low voice.
Tony observed Peter closely: “Looks like you’ve already made a guess.” Peter gave a subtle nod: “The Sokovia Accords?” He didn’t bother asking silly questions like why the agreement had anything to do with him, or how Iron Man knew his identity in the first place.
Based on his previous deductions, the moment Iron Man set foot in his house, the entire premise was already built upon the fact that Tony knew who he was.
“Yes, but not entirely,” Tony murmured, looking at Peter with a touch of surprise.
“I’d like you to sign the Accords, but my primary reason for coming today is that I need your help.” “Need my…” Peter was stunned.
Had his guess really hit the mark?
Was Iron Man looking for extra hands to handle Captain America and his group because of Cap’s rebellion?
“Ahem,” before Peter could ask his next question, Tony cleared his throat, raising his voice slightly.
“Regarding the September Foundation, I’ve already approved it.
So, Peter, whenever you’re ready, we can discuss the terms of our cooperation.” “The September Foundation?
Cooperation?” Aunt May walked out of the kitchen carrying tea and a plate of pre-arranged snacks.
“Uh…
sorry, Aunt May, I really…” Knowing this was merely Iron Man’s cover story to deflect suspicion, Peter played along, feigning stammered hesitation.
Tony looked toward Aunt May, rising to take some of the items from her hands with a warm smile: “Peter is a exceptionally talented young man.
I’m really looking forward to working with him.” “Actually, I’m really looking forward to working with you too, Mr.
Stark,” Peter declared in a formal tone, even switching his form of address.
To Aunt May’s ears, it sounded like a matter regarding the September Foundation and grant funding—essentially that her nephew Peter had applied for a grant, with Stark Industries acting as the sponsor.
In reality, between Peter and Tony, Peter’s words meant one thing: he agreed to sign the Sokovia Accords.
“Mr.
Stark, can we go over the details of our cooperation in depth?” Peter requested.
Tony offered a slight smile: “Of course, Mr.
Parker.” “Aunt May…” Peter looked over at her.
Aunt May gave him a supportive fist-pump, mouthing silently: ‘Good luck!’ “Yeah!” Peter and Tony stood up and headed toward Peter’s bedroom.
“What’s this, retro tech?” The moment they stepped into the room, Tony was drawn to the bulky desktop computer sitting on the desk.
Peter glanced at it.
It was indeed a desktop, assembled by himself using a pile of salvaged parts from a scrap yard.
He used it primarily for testing and tuning his web-shooters, which was why he had added quite a few ports on the back, making it look somewhat unwieldy.
“Actually…
it ‘is’ pretty retro,” Peter confessed, feeling a wave of embarrassment at having his idol see such a setup.
Tony chuckled under his breath, relieved to finally catch a glimpse of an expression fitting for Peter’s age on this kid who was acting so gravely composed.
Indeed, after thinking it over a moment ago, Tony had convinced himself that Peter was merely putting on a serious facade.
After all, prior to coming here today, all intelligence pointed to Peter being just a naive kid.
How could anyone suddenly mature overnight?
Even if someone did, it would require some major, life-altering turning point.
Yet everything in Peter’s life was smooth sailing and no different from usual—where could the conditions for “overnight maturity” have possibly come from?
“Even though you seem to have admitted it already, I still want to double-check—this is you wandering the streets in a onesie, right, Peter?” Tony pulled out his phone and tapped open a video clip.
“…Yeah, that’s me.
But it’s not a onesie.
That’s my…
suit.
Just like your Iron Man armor!” “You call *that* thing a suit?
Hahaha!” Tony slapped his leg, bursting into laughter.
Peter glared at him, visibly annoyed.
“Ahem, I didn’t mean to laugh at you,” Tony straightened up, offering a sincere apology.
“Haha, but I just couldn’t help it.” “…” Peter gave a helpless sigh.
“Tony, can we move past the onesie—err, the suit—and talk about the Sokovia Accords and what you need my help with?
I assume that’s your real reason for being here.” “Right, yeah.
The Sokovia Accords state…” Tony laid out the general contents of the Sokovia Accords to Peter, as understanding it was a prerequisite for joining.
Peter, for his part, wanted to get a complete picture of the agreement as well.
While he also believed that individuals with superpowers required a degree of regulation, if the level of constraint proved too severe…
he would find it hard to accept.
Furthermore, influenced by Spider-Man Noir’s experiences, he held little faith in the moral integrity of those in power.
He had no desire to unwittingly become a tool for someone else’s profit.