Chapter 18: Tony Stark

The air in Manhattan was thick with the distinct sweetness and luxury of the holiday season. The "Winter Star" charity gala on the top floor of the Lane Tower was, without a doubt, the most dazzling social vortex of the Christmas holidays.

Hawk Lane, the newly crowned King of Wall Street who had sent Bates Capital to its grave just days ago, stood at the entrance to the ballroom. Dressed in a perfectly tailored midnight-blue velvet tuxedo, his smile was like a finely cut diamond, brilliant and sharp, radiating an undeniable sense of command. Beside him, Andy wore an ice-silver backless gown, beautiful in a sharp, composed way, as if distilled moonlight.

The guest list was a "Christmas Wish List" of power and wealth.

Tony Stark's signature flashy red sports car was parked downstairs; his presence was felt through the ceiling even before he arrived. When he entered, he brought his own spotlight effect, accompanied, as always, by Pepper Potts.

Norman Osborn was there with his young son, Harry Osborn—father and son, one old, one young. General Ross wore his crisp military uniform, the medals on his chest recording battles past, his gaze sharply sweeping the room. Business, political, and military titans gathered, their conversations flowing like sophisticated background music.

Hawk immediately approached Tony, who was already surrounded by adoring socialites. After greeting a clearly displeased Pepper Potts at his side, Hawk smiled brilliantly:

"Uncle Tony, I'm glad you could make it. I hear the PPT for your new weapons line refreshed the record for presentation length again? I hope tonight's charity auction will help you rediscover the feeling of 'efficiency.'"

Hearing the "Uncle Tony" moniker, Tony gave a forced laugh and changed the subject.

"Efficiency? Lane, that Bates game you played was certainly quick, precise, and ruthless—not a scrap left. My presentation is called 'in-depth exposition,' ensuring investors… and potential buyers, understand what they're purchasing. Speaking of which, I hear you've taken a sudden interest in 'special security'?" Tony gestured pointedly toward the area slightly behind Hawk.

Standing quietly there were Goo Ja-yoon and Shin Si-ah, like two shadows blending into the background. Goo Ja-yoon wore a simple black evening gown, her eyes calm as still water. Shin Si-ah was in a sharp white trouser suit, exuding the youthful edge of a teenager. Their presence was like two stones dropped into a placid lake, causing invisible ripples among certain guests.

"Word travels fast, doesn't it?" Hawk spread his hands. "Just two ladies with a bit more inherent strength, nothing more."

In the upper echelons of America, there were no secrets. Various types of information about the products of Project Witch had already been spread among these ravenous capitalists. Who wouldn't want limitless strength? Who wouldn't want to be an unkillable entity? Who cared if they were "Warlocks" or "Witches?"

At that moment, a "Russian wealthy socialite" named Natalia Romanova, her striking red hair flowing, her figure swaying, was elegantly chatting and laughing with an energy magnate, a glass of champagne in hand.

A micro-earpiece in her ear crackled with instructions: "Natasha, status report?"

Natasha tilted her head slightly, whispering in Russian. Her voice was soft as a breath. "Targets Goo Ja-yoon and Shin Si-ah are alert. Hawk Lane… he's smiling like an angel."

Inside the Quinjet, which was hovering in the stratosphere with its optical camouflage engaged, Fury was exasperated by Natasha's description. "Save the appreciation for his good looks until after the mission. Maintain observation. Stark and Osborn are here, too; don't let the situation get out of hand. Especially Ross—I think he's about to lose control and start 'recruiting.'"

In the corner of the screen, General Ross was talking quietly with a high-ranking official from the Department of Defense, his gaze occasionally darting toward Goo Ja-yoon. General Ross was personally responsible for military human experimentation and was keen on super-powered individuals and biological research. Furthermore, the US Forces in Korea fell under his jurisdiction. Fury suddenly suspected that General Ross might know even more about Project Witch than he did.

Norman Osborn walked up to Hawk, wine glass in hand, wearing a practiced smile. "Mr. Lane, congratulations on another victory. How's the digestion of Bates's legacy going? I hear Lane Industries' stock is surging, making even Osborn Industries feel a touch of… pressure?" The words were polite but subtly barbed.

Hawk's smile remained unruffled; he responded calmly. "Mr. Osborn, you flatter me. The market always favors efficiency and innovation. Speaking of which, the industrial sector is merely a side venture for Osborn. It's your breakthroughs in biotechnology that are truly impressive. How is your 'Enhanced Physiology Project' coming along? It sounds promising." He steered the conversation toward Osborn's own highly guarded area.

Norman's eye twitched almost imperceptibly, and his tone turned cold. "That's business confidential, Mr. Lane. As for your two companions… 'special assistants'? They have a very unique presence. What new product from a security company are they?"

"They are my personal 'risk consultants.'" Hawk spoke dismissively, his expression meaningful. "They specialize in dealing with… non-traditional business risks. After all, the world is sometimes more complicated than the rules of Wall Street, isn't it?" He glanced pointedly in the direction of General Ross.

At that moment, Harry Osborn managed to escape a few socialite admirers and walked curiously toward Shin Si-ah in the quiet corner. His young face held a friendly smile. "Hi, you're really striking. I'm Harry Osborn. You look… cool."

Shin Si-ah lifted her eyes to him, her gaze clear but scrutinizing. She replied briefly, "Shin Si-ah." Her eyes swept over Harry, seeming to look right through him to something deeper, hidden.

"Are you sick?" Shin Si-ah suddenly asked, the bluntness so shocking that even Goo Ja-yoon turned to look.

"Uh… what?" Harry looked completely taken aback.

"Nothing." Shin Si-ah shook her head with a smile. She could sense that this young man had some kind of physical ailment that hadn't yet manifested, unlike the old man next to him, Norman, who was already critically ill. But none of that had anything to do with her. Mind your own business. Yes, Mr. Hawk said so.

Harry felt awkward under her gaze, his smile becoming strained.

The crystal chandeliers refracted brilliant light, and champagne flowed slowly from the tower of glasses amidst the clinking of flutes.

"It seems the collapse of Bates Capital has made the champagne especially delicious tonight."

The crisp sound of high heels on the floor came from behind, accompanied by a faint, elusive fragrance that mixed roses and gunpowder, interrupting Hawk's exchange with Norman.

"Mr. Hawk Lane."

He turned, and his eyes met a fiery red-haired woman. A deep-V black dress outlined her graceful curves, her red lips slightly upturned, her eyes holding an enchanting light.

Seeing the interruption, Norman nodded at the two and backed away.