"What? What does he mean by that?"
Nick Fury turned to look at Hill, visibly irritated by Tony's nonchalant attitude.
Hill just shrugged in response.
Seeing Fury, the "old man" of S.H.I.E.L.D., hitting a dead end was something she found amusing.
"Infiltrate J.A.R.V.I.S.'s system. I want to know what those two just talked about..."
"On it, boss!"
Hill picked up her tablet and began operating it skillfully.
They had already hacked J.A.R.V.I.S. once before.
Nick Fury waited for a while, and soon, sound came from Hill's tablet.
However, it wasn't the conversation Fury had been expecting.
Instead, it was Tony's voice: "Hey, if you try to hack J.A.R.V.I.S. again, I'll shut down your entire S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier."
"Tony, listen to me..."
Fury wanted to continue negotiating with Tony, but Tony clearly wasn't interested.
"I don't care about your little superhero club. Right now, I only want to know..."
"What car should I take to Washington…"
At Tony's house.
Tony, now in his Iron Man suit, stood at the front door, looking frustrated.
The luxury car that had been parked outside his house was gone.
"Tony, I need to know what you two just discussed."
"Sorry, I need to call my driver. We'll talk after I return from Washington DC."
Not giving Fury any more chances, Tony promptly cut the connection.
Ever since J.A.R.V.I.S. was hacked last time, Tony had immediately patched its vulnerabilities.
He even upgraded J.A.R.V.I.S. with a counter-algorithm specifically designed to block S.H.I.E.L.D.
Now, S.H.I.E.L.D. trying to hack J.A.R.V.I.S. was practically impossible.
"Happy, where did you and Yinsen take my car?"
"What? The wind's too loud? You didn't even break 50 miles per hour! Hey... Hello?"
"Happy..."
Tony couldn't believe it—Happy had actually hung up on him!
Glancing at another car nearby, Tony sighed. "No choice..."
He couldn't risk flying there in the Mark suit; every time he used it, the palladium poisoning got worse.
After returning to the workshop and removing the Mark suit, Tony began recalling what Alan had told him.
"J.A.R.V.I.S...."
"I'm here, sir."
"Pull up all my father's research on Future City. I'll need it when I get back."
Tony didn't understand. It was just a conceptual city design that Howard had proposed back in the day.
Could it really hold the key to finding a new energy source?
"Understood, sir."
"I'm heading to Washington now. I have a feeling it won't be easy."
Tony could already picture the smug faces of those demanding he hand over the Mark suit.
In truth, he didn't want to go, but Pepper had already been invited.
To avoid putting her in an awkward situation, he had no choice.
"Best of luck, sir."
"See you later, J.A.R.V.I.S...."
...
Alan returned home.
He glanced in the direction of Tony's place. "With that hint, it should be obvious enough, right?"
"Pika... chu..."
Pikachu looked up at Alan, its small eyes filled with confusion: "Who is he?"
Alan thought for a moment before responding, "He's a responsible person."
"We'll be dealing with him more in the future. For now, go to sleep."
Alan set Pikachu down, and the tired little creature immediately scurried to its small bed and fell into a deep sleep.
After checking the back-end data of a forum website, Alan remembered something else.
"Red Queen, how's the investigation on NASA going?"
The Red Queen's virtual figure appeared on the screen instantly: "Master, Dr. Reed Richards is preparing to explore the cosmic storm center."
"This mission consists of four astronauts: Reed Richards, Susan Storm, Johnny Storm, and Ben Grimm."
"The spacecraft is scheduled to launch in seven days."
After hearing the Red Queen's report, Alan was now completely certain.
These four individuals—both their upcoming actions and their names—pointed directly to another superhero team: the Fantastic Four!
"It really is them. Looks like I need to prepare carefully."
The appearance of the Fantastic Four also meant that in the near future, a world-ending disaster was going to occur.
Though it would eventually be resolved without catastrophe, Alan didn't like the idea of leaving his life to chance in such situations.
Inside the NYPD.
Two Interpol technicians walked into George's office.
"Well? Did you find out who created the website?"
As soon as they entered, George asked.
Whoever was able to create such a website and gather so much incriminating evidence against Wilson Fisk couldn't be just any ordinary hacker. Maybe, he thought, this person could even work for him someday.
But the technicians' response left George disappointed.
"We couldn't trace anything about the website. It's as if it appeared out of thin air."
"We can't find any registration data at all."
George, not particularly tech-savvy, asked, "What does that mean?"
"It means we can't find anything," one of them explained.
"And if we can't trace it, I doubt anyone on Wilson Fisk's side can either."
Relieved despite the disappointment, George sighed.
At least this mysterious person fighting against Wilson Fisk was safe.
"If we can't find it, then there's no point in looking any further. What we can be sure of is that Wilson Fisk is finished."
"All right, guys, go get some rest. I'm sure tomorrow's going to be busy."
The large screen in the room displayed the real-time data from the forum website.
George grabbed his coat and left the NYPD.
Hidden in the shadows, Gwen watched as George stepped out. "Looks like our big chief is off work," she whispered.
"I'll tail him one more time, and make sure I get home before he does."
"A tough mission, right, Red Queen?"
"Yes, Miss Gwen," the Red Queen replied.
As George drove away, Gwen swung after him on her webs.
When George finally arrived home, Gwen slipped into the house through a window.
As George opened the front door, his first words were, "Gwen? Are you back?"
"Gwen?"
At that moment, Gwen's mother came out with a face mask on. "George, you're back."
"Has Gwen come home?" George asked, looking at his wife.
Gwen's mother thought for a moment. "Not yet. Tonight, the only sound of someone coming home was yours."
George glanced at his watch. "It's getting late. I think I should head over to Alan's place to check on her."
"Hey, Dad! You're home!"
Gwen came running down from upstairs.
George looked from Gwen to her mother in confusion.
Gwen's mom was equally puzzled as she walked over. "Gwen, when did you come back?"
Gwen stammered, "I-I just got back. You were probably in the shower and didn't hear me. I even said hello when I came in."
Gwen's mother tried to remember, but she was certain there had been no sound while she was in the shower.
Worried her mom might say something that would make George suspicious, Gwen quickly walked over to her.
"Mom, your face mask isn't on right. You should go check it in the mirror."
"Really? I'll go fix it."
Her mom hurried off to the bathroom.
George, now more at ease, turned to Gwen. "How's it going with Alan lately?"
Gwen's face flushed slightly. "It's the same as always, Dad. How's work?"
"Everything's going smoothly."
"Well, I'm heading to bed. Good night."
"Good night..."
As he watched Gwen head upstairs, George muttered to himself, "I need to invite Alan over again sometime."
"He makes pretty good food..."
In her room, Gwen quickly shut the door and opened her robe.
Underneath, she was still wearing her Spider suit.
"Whew, close call. Next time, I better use the front door."
She then sighed, "Time for bed. I'll find Alan tomorrow morning. I didn't get to play with Pikachu at all today."
Gwen carefully stashed her new suit in the back of her closet.
After tidying everything up, she finally crawled into bed and drifted off to sleep.
...
Kingpin's Manor.
On the large bed, Kingpin slowly woke up. A group of maids by his side had already prepared his washing supplies.
"Looks like I had a good night's sleep."
Kingpin glanced at the maids around him.
The maids all lowered their heads, not daring to say much.
It was this kind of obedience that made Kingpin laugh heartily with satisfaction.
At that moment, Kingpin heard a commotion outside, causing him to frown.
"What's going on outside? Why is it so noisy?"
After all, this was his private residence. If it was too loud, he had every right to call the police.
The maids around him were equally confused, looking at each other.
They had been waiting by his bed for an hour, completely unaware of what was happening outside.
Kingpin, in a relatively good mood, decided to let it go.
However, the noise outside grew closer and louder, irritating him.
"Someone, come here!"
He waited for a while, but no one responded.
This lack of response made Kingpin feel a bit uneasy. Just as he was about to get up and check for himself,
one of his men rushed in.
"King… Kingpin… Boss… something big has happened!"
Kingpin's expression instantly darkened. Too many things had happened recently, but hadn't Nick Fury suppressed everything?
What else could possibly go wrong?
"What's going on? Speak slowly."
The man trembled as he stammered, "Outside the manor… there's a protest. They... their slogan is..."
"A protest?"
Kingpin was even more confused. He wasn't a politician, just a gang leader.
Protests were common in America. Whenever there was dissatisfaction with a policy, people would march,
but it rarely changed anything. Still, people loved to participate.
However, protests were usually aimed at the government or officials.
Why would they come to his house?
"Why did you stop? What's their slogan?"
The man hesitated, but under Kingpin's intense gaze, he finally muttered, "Down with America's cancer, Kingpin!"
"Fisk, get out of America!"
"Fisk, blood for blood!"
"What did you just say?"
Kingpin's massive figure loomed over the man, intimidating him so much that he collapsed to the ground.
"Boss, those aren't my words!"
"They're from the protestors outside!"
The man pointed towards the door.
The ominous feeling in Kingpin's heart grew stronger. His instincts told him not to step outside.
He quickly strode to the window and pulled back the curtain slightly.
Outside, his manor was completely surrounded by angry protestors.
They held various signs—some had a large "X" over his face, others read "Get out of America," and some directly targeted him with personal insults.
Kingpin was dumbfounded. Everything was fine last night.
How did the whole world turn upside down after just one night's sleep?
Ring! Ring!
At that moment, the phone in Kingpin's room rang.
"Hello, what's going on?"
Kingpin answered immediately.
But all he could hear on the other end was the sound of things being smashed.
Then, one of his men spoke, "Boss, our company has been attacked. What should we do?"
"The building is full of those rioters!"
Before the man could finish, Kingpin heard the sounds of fighting.
Clearly, his men were in trouble.
Panic took hold of Kingpin. The unknown was the most terrifying.
He had no idea what had happened.
Waking up to find himself an enemy of the world would make anyone panic.
And Kingpin had already been on edge lately, thanks to the mole in his organization.
Finally, after getting a good night's sleep, thanks to Nick Fury's help, he had hoped things would calm down.
Wait! Nick Fury!
"Quick, bring me my clothes!"
Kingpin ordered one of the maids.
The maid hurried to fetch his signature suit.
Kingpin fumbled through his pockets until he found his small phone.
He quickly dialed Nick Fury's number.
Meanwhile, at S.H.I.E.L.D.
Nick Fury was watching Tony Stark attend a Senate hearing in Washington DC.
On the screen, Tony sat at the center of the room.
From the podium, the Secretary of Defense was aggressively questioning Tony, "Do you admit that your Iron Man suit is a weapon?"
"A weapon this powerful should be handed over to us, so we can ensure the safety of the world."
Tony, sitting below, couldn't help but sneer. He knew exactly what was on these people's minds.
"No, I don't think it's a weapon."
"If you insist, it's more of a high-tech prosthesis."
"I am Iron Man, and Iron Man is me. You're not getting any of the suit's technology from me."
Tony's bold statement left the Secretary of Defense speechless.
All he could say in response was, "Then we'll have to let professionals determine whether your Iron Man suit is a weapon."
Tony confidently waved to the media behind him. "Is there anyone in America more qualified in weapons than me?"
...
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