Chapter 221

"I'll say it again—I'm a doctor, not God." Strange stood beside Obadiah's bed. "He's the first patient I've ever seen re-admitted within a week of discharge. At this rate, even God couldn't save him—not with new drugs, not with anything."

Stark sighed deeply from the other side of the bed. Skeller asked him, "I'm certain all his vitals were perfect before discharge—even above human norms. How exactly did you manage to give him a hypertensive crisis and get him readmitted in just one week?"

Stark looked wounded. "I didn't do anything. He just saw Stark Industries' latest financial reports and the contract with Stark-Osborn Joint Pharmaceuticals—and that's when he collapsed."

The incident began after Obadiah completed his final treatment cycle and woke up. As Connors and Skeller had predicted, the drug extracted from fear toxin—combined with the regenerative properties of the lizard serum—not only revived Obadiah but also enhanced his physical condition.

After a brief rest, Obadiah returned to work. No, his first act upon waking was not to have a heartfelt uncle-nephew talk with Stark. Stark watched as Obadiah bypassed him entirely and sprinted toward his beloved company.

Clearly, in Obadiah's eyes, Stark Industries mattered more than Stark himself.

Though Obadiah had mentally prepared himself before returning to the company, the reality still left him reeling.

Stark Industries' existing operations were fine. Though Pepper had faced a long adjustment period after taking over, with initial chaos, she ultimately managed things well. Profits didn't match Obadiah's era, but they were acceptable. Obadiah felt pain, but he accepted it.

What truly sent Obadiah into cardiac arrest was the recent new ventures: the Stark-Osborn Joint Pharmaceuticals and the Immortality Factor Foundation.

Frankly, Obadiah had built the entire Stark Empire himself. Without him, Howard's brilliant ideas would've remained mere theoretical talk—never converted into real profit. Obadiah's business acumen was unmatched.

Upon returning, Obadiah had initially been thrilled by the Immortality Factor project. But then he saw the contracts between Stark, Osborn Group, and the Immortality Factor Foundation—and suffered a hypertensive crisis, landing him back in the hospital.

"Heartbroken" couldn't capture Obadiah's state. His heart had lost not just blood—it had lost everything. He was nearly hemorrhaging.

Stark thought he'd negotiated well. But to Osborn, a titan of industry, Stark was squandering his father's legacy. Why negotiate profit splits at all? Shouldn't he have paid Osborn to take the name? Giving up 3% just for naming order? This wastrel!

Obadiah was truly furious. "Disappointed" didn't begin to describe his feelings. He wanted to dig Howard out of his coffin and show him what his son had become.

Stark felt wronged. Objectively, he'd done his best.

Stark sighed. "Pepper and I thought we'd done well. But the result…"

"You're not unintelligent," Skeller concluded. "You're just not greedy enough."

Stark spread his hands. "Whatever. I'm finally free from all that nonsense. Back to my old, happy life."

"Jian Lai"

Skeller shook his head. "You're celebrating too soon."

"Do you know what the military's been up to lately?"

"Military movements? Oh…" Stark said. "Let me guess—they've got a mountain of questions for me. Maybe even a hearing, demanding I hand over the tech that turned me into a cosmic demon and summoned an army of machines out of thin air…"

"Nick wouldn't let them do that." Skeller cut straight to the point. "He's already drafted a speech to publicly condemn the military."

Skeller was right. Nick was currently clashing with the military.

Stark's alignment now leaned toward S. . . . . . They shared mutual interests in Immortality Factor and the Cosmic Demon. Their cooperation was smooth. Neither side wanted an interloper. Stark would never fully cooperate with the military—but even a crumb taken from his pie made Nick's heart ache.

Human nature is hard to change. If Stark were still just a scientist with armor tech, like in the movie, he'd likely have been coerced by the military as before.

But now, he's far beyond that scale. The appearance of the Iron Demon made the military and the Security Council consider relocating to another planet. The "Wandering Earth" plan was already on their lips. Had Stark not vanished after becoming the demon, chaos would've already erupted.

Even though the Iron Demon who summoned the mechanical army vanished, the military still had endless questions for Stark. But his power was so overwhelming, they dared not use force.

Since Stark hadn't publicly revealed he was Iron Man, the military assumed he wouldn't appear at public hearings. So they'd tried privately inviting him for talks.

But the plan faced massive resistance. On one hand, S. . . . . . would sabotage any contact between Stark and the military to protect their alliance. On the other, with Obadiah back, Stark Industries had regained its backbone. Obadiah fiercely resisted military cooperation, making it nearly impossible for the military to bypass him to reach Stark.

Stark wasn't a porcupine—but he was surrounded by a circle of them. The military didn't know how to proceed.

But standing idle was impossible. They couldn't let such power slip from their grasp. Even if they knew it was a nuclear bomb, someone would always try to chip off a piece before it exploded.

In the end, the military turned to the World Security Council.

They picked the right person. As Nick Fury's influence grew and the superheroes around him grew stronger, Alexander Pierce could no longer sit still.

Pierce and Nick had once shared interests—like the Immortality Factor industry. But Nick had expanded his power, relying less and less on Pierce. Seeing his chosen proxy slip from control, Pierce wanted to weaken Nick and reclaim him.

Shifts in interest dictated shifts in loyalty. Soon, Nick received a call from the World Security Council.

On an ordinary Saturday morning in autumn in New York, the Global Times published a bombshell: "Tony Stark—The Secret Behind the Iron Man's Metal Mask."

Stark set down the newspaper, placed his coffee on the table, and said cheerfully, "Perfect. They've announced it for me. No need for me to speak."

Pepper, across from him, sighed helplessly. "This has major consequences. Many have been swayed by the military. They believe you have a duty to hand over this advanced tech to maintain world peace."

"To hell with world peace!" Nick shouted in his office, holding his phone. "Don't try to fool me with your fairy tales meant for three-year-olds!"

"How long are you going to keep playing this game? Constant probing, inching forward, public opinion pressure, economic sanctions—has your brain completely rusted?"

"Why don't you understand? This trick won't trap Stark anymore. And if you anger him, the entire Earth is in danger. The mess will still fall on S. . . . . . to clean up!"

After hanging up, Nick sighed and said to Hill beside him, "What was that black symbiote host's name again? Wasn't he a Global Times reporter? Contact him immediately…"

At that moment, Eddie stood in front of a hot dog stand in Hell's Kitchen, arguing with Venom. "I warned you last time—Mexican chili is spicy. But you insisted on extra-spicy. I nearly died. This time, I absolutely won't—"

"You're the most cowardly human I've ever met. A little chili makes you scream like a baby."

"One extra-spicy, please." A hoarse, low voice came from Eddie's throat. Then he shuddered. "No! Not extra-spicy! Mild is fine…"

"No! Extra-spicy!"

"No…"

"Hey, wait—there's a hot girl!"

"Don't try to distract me. That trick's worn out."

"Hello, I'm Hill. Are you Eddie Brock?"

Eddie turned and saw Hill standing behind him, dressed in professional attire.

"I am. What's this about?"

"Hello, I'm Agent Hill of S. . . . . . I need your cooperation on a matter." She flashed her badge.

"Hello, Symbiote, long time no see. Last time on the battlefield was too rushed. Got any free time?"

"Wait!" Eddie interrupted Venom before he could speak. He whispered, "Didn't you hear what she said? She's S. . . . . ."

Meanwhile, Symbiote whispered to Hill inside her mind: "I told you—Venom's truly insane. He wants his host to hit on you."

"I think he's not trying to get his host to hit on you. I think he wants to hit on you himself."

"Don't joke." Symbiote said. "Symbiotes have no gender. We don't reproduce like humans needing two sexes. My female form is only because my last host was female…"

A strange dynamic emerged between the two symbiote-host pairs. Eddie believed Venom wanted to pursue Symbiote. Symbiote believed Eddie wanted to control his host to pursue Hill. But Hill, like Eddie, thought Venom had taken a liking to Symbiote…

This left them facing each other, speechless, communicating only through their symbiotes' mental chatter.

Gonzales, the hot dog vendor, tapped his tray. "You still want hot dogs?"

Eddie didn't know how to respond, but Venom spoke first: "Two hot dogs—one extra-spicy, one mild. And two juices—one without ice. Thanks."

When the hot dogs arrived, Eddie and Hill sat at a table under the umbrella beside the stand. Symbiote whispered to Hill: "Are you really going to eat what Venom ordered? I'm worried I'll catch something…"

Hill didn't touch her food. Instead, she said to Eddie, "You've read the Global Times article, right?"

Eddie took a bite of his hot dog. "You mean the one exposing Stark as Iron Man?"

"What do you think of it?"

"Journalists sometimes repeat obvious truths. But this article, stating something any sane person could guess, got this much attention—it made me question the meaning of my own career."

"S. . . . . . suspects this is the military's latest attempt to pressure Stark."

"Looks like I misjudged my former colleagues. It's not the reporters who are stupid—it's the military."

Hill asked Symbiote mentally: "Is your fellow symbiote, Venom, always this biting?"

"How should I know? I have no interest in understanding a lunatic."

"Here's the situation," Hill explained to Eddie. "We don't know what exactly the military did, but they've convinced the World Security Council. The Council now sides with them, claiming Stark's tech could better maintain world peace."

"They're not trying to make Stark hand over his tech, are they?"

"Not necessarily all of it—but at least part. If we consider the power Stark displayed that day, the Security Council and military's goal is at least his latest armor. They might even want the power that turned him into a god."

"To achieve their goals, they'll harass Stark relentlessly. Even if he's not afraid of their force, living in society gives them countless ways to make life hell for him and Stark Industries."

"S. . . . . . wants to stop this. But the problem is—we're subordinate to the World Security Council."

Hill gestured. "Clearly, we're in a tight spot. The Council ordered us not to interfere. Director Nick is under immense pressure. We can't publicly aid Stark."

"But we don't want them to succeed. So we need your help."

"I used to be a Global Times reporter. But that's in the past." Eddie drank two sips of juice. "If you're approaching me because of my old job, you'll be disappointed. I have no credibility left in this industry."

Hill said to Eddie, "The military won't stop at this one move. Next, they'll repeat the same tactic—manipulating media to accuse Stark of hoarding advanced tech instead of contributing to human peace. They'll dredge up old accusations—selling weapons."

"We need evidence that the Global Times editor accepted bribes and manipulated public opinion. You know the editor well, right?"

"Also, due to Security Council pressure, S. . . . . . and its agents can't appear publicly. So we want to hire you to defend against the military's attacks and stop their smear campaign against Stark."

"I heard from Symbiote that you have a grudge against Riot. S. . . . . . is currently experimenting on Riot. We can hand him over to you—and add some residual energy from his body. How's that?"

"... eal."