TN: Just kidding we are still in Marvel guys, we were all tricked including me.
Leo, New York's youngest millionaire, and potentially a billionaire in the foreseeable future, was still living in a rental apartment.
However, Hell's Kitchen had undergone significant improvements. A dedicated cleaning company was managing waste, and the basic infrastructure, including electrical wiring, signal stations, and heating, had been renovated and continued to be upgraded.
It was quite a sight: New York City had initially planned to collaborate with Oscorp on a municipal power grid project. But with Oscorp gone, the project was halted.
Ironically, Hell's Kitchen began upgrading its lines instead—though "upgrade" might be a stretch, as it mostly involved standardizing systems rather than introducing new technology.
It might still be a far cry from the opulent central districts, but it looked cleaner, safer, and much cozier.
The area would see more changes in the future, but for now, only small improvements were being made.
Seeing the changes, Leo felt warm inside—
He still had a home to return to, and it was only getting better.
"Mom! I'm home, and I brought a guest."
Leo shut the door behind him. Maya, wearing an apron, came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands dry, looking like she had been cooking.
Seeing Leo, she rushed over and grabbed his face, inspecting him like she was checking a watermelon for quality.
Leo sighed, "Mom, I'm fine. I already told you over the phone."
"You…" Maya let go of Leo's face, unsure what else to say.
She wanted Leo to be healthy and to grow up into a responsible man. To be honest, that's what most normal parents hope for—
But no parent would want their child to stop a terrorist attack all by themselves!
The entire city of New York had witnessed Leo tackling the Vulture mid-air!
But now that her child had grown up, what could she say as his mother?
The only thing she could do was make sure her child still had a home to come back to, and that when he returned, the lights would be on.
Maya patted Leo's shoulder and gently hugged him. "I'm just glad you're home. Get ready for dinner."
"Okay—oh, by the way, I brought a guest."
Leo gestured for Kristoff to come in. The boy stood at the door, staring blankly at Leo's home.
The steel, concrete, and modern luxurious decor left him bewildered. It was so high-end, he couldn't even imagine living in a place like that.
But Leo's apartment wasn't that fancy. It had a lot of wooden structures and furniture, something Kristoff could understand.
It was exactly like the home he had always dreamed of!
"Kristoff Vernad. He's the boy—well, the kid—who was brought to the U.S. for illegal human experimentation by Oscorp.
He's from Latveria, and I thought we could help him out by connecting him with his family back home."
"Uh… hello, ma'am, you can call me Kristoff."
Kristoff wasn't sure how to act. Maya looked very much like a Gypsy, the predominant ethnicity in Latveria—
And Kristoff himself was a Gypsy, part of a nomadic caravan traveling from village to village.
"Vernad? Do you have a relative named Castor Vernad?" Maya asked.
"I don't know, ma'am." Kristoff shook his head. "I was raised by the elders, so I'm not sure if I have any relatives."
Maya was taken aback. In Latveria, this wasn't uncommon—there were orphans everywhere.
But in certain Gypsy communities like Maya's, they had the tradition of raising orphans. Even though their caravans were poor, they would still take in young ones.
However, Maya had come to New York a long, long time ago, and many things had changed.
Leo patted Kristoff on the back. "Put your stuff down. Your room is right across the hall, but we all eat together here."
"Oh, by the way, you've got a—"
"Hey, boss! The servers have been swapped. We now have an entire building of servers. At this rate, we should probably buy this apartment block from Mr. Ricardo."
Skye burst out of the room across the hall, carrying her laptop.
She looked up and saw a stranger. She turned to Leo. "A new roommate?"
"New neighbor. He might be a bit clueless—give him a hand."
Since Anthony and John were gradually shifting their focus to political activities, Skye was mostly managing the servers by herself, which was getting difficult.
It was just as well that Kristoff could help with some tasks and learn a thing or two from the internet.
"Alright. He looks like a scared little rabbit."
Once Kristoff was settled, Leo enjoyed a hearty meal at home.
When it came to efficiency and nutritional value, synthetic food in a cyberpunk world was far superior to natural food.
But for a meal, traditional, home-cooked food still had better appeal.
After dinner, Leo received a call: Silver Sable Security, the company brought to New York by Oscorp but left jobless, had arrived.
Silver Sable Security, formerly known as the Wild Pack, originated in another unique Marvel country in Eastern Europe called Symkaria.
They began as mercenaries during World War II, helping the government resist the Germans and continued to hunt down remaining war criminals after the war ended.
But in modern times, Symkaria had been plagued by war, both domestic and foreign. Eventually, after a terrorist attack, the government collapsed, and the Wild Pack was removed from its official position, becoming mercenaries.
After years of hard work, they had transformed into a private military contractor (PMC). However, before they could land their first contract, their client disbanded.
Their leader, Silver Sablinova, also known as Silver Sable, was a short-haired, silver-haired, no-nonsense female mercenary.
Seeing Leo coming downstairs, Silver stood up straight from her position leaning against the wall.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lee."
"Let's skip the pleasantries. You're looking for work, right?" Leo held out a file. "I've already drafted the contract.
However, the job isn't in New York but back in your homeland, Eastern Europe."
Silver looked surprised and took the file.
Leo explained, "I plan to start mechanized farming in Eastern Europe, using Latveria as the starting point. I need security personnel for the project.
This is more sensitive than normal urban security work, so your pay will reflect that."
"Latveria? Agriculture?" Silver quickly skimmed the document. "Latveria? Agriculture? Aren't you a high-tech company? Why are you suddenly interested in this?"
"There are plenty of reasons: international aid, technical needs, and also, I'm half-Latverian myself.
But that's not something you need to worry about."
"We're not mercenaries who take on just any job.
If it were a contract for the federal government in some Middle Eastern country, I might hesitate since it could involve intervention.
But Latveria should be fine."
Since Silver didn't have any objections, the partnership seemed set.
After wrapping up that deal, Leo started to wonder…
From genetic research to farming, was he turning into a biotech company from a cyberpunk world?
Maybe cultivating a new strain of Triticum 2 wheat could be an interesting research project after all.
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
Although Leo didn't have any special agents to conduct overseas investigations, he managed to find a list of recently active companies on the internet and identified a few potential competitors:
CyberTech, Apex Technology, Hammer Industries, and Stark Industries.
The more he thought about it, the more these companies resembled the mega-corporations of a cyberpunk world.
But there was still one major player missing—
Leo had noticed that multiple U.S. energy companies had been merging and restructuring repeatedly since the economic crisis.
It was as if a behemoth was quietly absorbing nutrients and taking shape.
Let's see who wins this game.
At S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters:
"…So that suit took down our most elite agents and U.S. soldiers in seconds? Then why were there no casualties when Oscorp Tower was accidentally bombed?"
Fury stood in front of a holographic screen, reporting with an injured arm in a sling.
"The Vulture suit is extremely dangerous. Oscorp equipped it with many experimental military-grade materials.
As for why the bombing didn't result in casualties, I suspect the masked Spider-Woman was responsible. The NYPD hinted at this in their report."
"Speaking of which, there's still no information on her identity?"
"None."
"Alright, that's enough for today."
Alexander Pierce, Secretary of the World Security Council and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s current direct superior, ended the call and connected to another line.
"…CyberTech got the technology they wanted, but at a heavy cost."
"Yes, INTERPOL is investigating the human experimentation lab in Eastern Europe. According to current protocol, we must lie low. The investors are very unhappy with how things turned out."
"And it's all your fault, Dr. Zola. You claim to be the world's only 'God of the Internet,' but how could a god be injured by mere mortals?"
"I will learn from this failure."
"The Death Warrior Project cannot afford any more mistakes."
"It won't. There's another technology within Oscorp that needs further study, but our people can't crack it. I suggest handing it over to Stark Industries."
"What project?"
"The biological enhancement version of the rhino armor was originally intended by Osborn to utilize gamma radiation to integrate high-intensity polymers into the human body, but he has never made a breakthrough; gamma rays are very difficult to control."
"The Lizard, the Rhino armor, and the Vulture suit have all proven that the genetically modified brain-computer interface adaptation method produces disobedient monsters."
"Whether they are agents or soldiers, they are all useful when obedient."
"However, a rampaging rhino, impervious to blades and guns, with great firepower, can indeed be deployed on the battlefield to cause destruction at will."
"Gammma rays... Why not let the military continue? I remember General Ross was leading the super-soldier serum project."
"They will also receive the information, but it will be conducted separately."
"Conducted separately, then combining the progress from various parties, secretly carrying out human experiments overseas."
Pierce understood immediately—it's the same old routine.