Chapter 4809

New York's Long Island is a large island in the southeastern part of New York, popular with the wealthy for its long beaches and high forest coverage. The area has many wealthy enclaves, though most are rather old. And the famous Iron Man, Tony Stark, was born here.

The Stark family's old residence is located in northern Long Island, a typical wealthy residential area. The Hamptons is a world-famous golden community, where countless celebrities and rich people hold banquets, and the former Stark was once among them. However, after Old Stark's death, Little Stark rarely returned here.

"I rarely come back here." Stark's hair fluttered slightly in the afternoon wind as he turned the steering wheel, drove into the community, and gazed at the streets that seemed familiar yet slightly unfamiliar.

"I can understand that." Dr. Banner nodded and said, "After my parents passed away, I also rarely return to my hometown. Every time I go back, I can't help but recall the little moments we spent together. I can't say I don't feel sad about it."

"Part of the reason is this." Stark nodded. Dr. Ethan in the back seat then asked, "Then that means it's not entirely like that—so what else could be stopping you from coming back?"

"This place doesn't welcome Stark." Stark said, "Not only do I not come back myself, I also won't bring Pepper and little Morgan back."

Peter and Dr. Ethan exchanged a glance, both seeming somewhat puzzled. Dr. Banner, however, directly asked: "Why doesn't this place welcome you?"

"It's not that I'm not welcome, but that the former Stark isn't welcome." Stark tugged at the corner of his mouth, seeming unwilling to say more. The car drove all the way into the community's interior and finally stopped in front of a noticeably dilapidated house at the edge.

Stark's hand resting on the car door paused for a moment. Peter was about to speak when Stark suddenly flung the door open and stepped out. Peter immediately got out, walked to the other side of the car, and said: "If you don't want to go in, we can just leave. Tony, don't force yourself."

"What do you think I'm thinking about? Feeling sad about this? Not at all." Stark sighed, "You'll find out soon enough."

Everyone got out of the car, and Stark led them into the old residence. Once inside, the scene looked even more desolate.

Although it is now winter, Long Island's temperatures are generally milder than most parts of New York, and winter temperatures usually don't drop below -5°C. It is daytime now, and the temperature remains around 10°C.

Moreover, since New York is not as warm as the West Coast and the four seasons are still fairly distinct, most wealthy estates consider temperature changes when designing gardens, planting species suitable for different seasons so there is scenery to enjoy year-round. Even in winter, there are many evergreens, and even some winterberry shrubs. Though the garden lacks the lushness of spring and summer, the view is still filled with greenery.

On their drive here, every household was like this. Although evergreen foliage tends to be cool-toned, nearly every household lays down artificial turf before winter sets in, making things look acceptable enough.

But Stark's old residence clearly did not take this into account. The lawn is bare, dusty soil, all trees reduced to mere trunks, and the shrubs are twisted and misshapen. The climbing plants on the walls have also withered to an unsightly state.

It's hard to imagine a super-rich tycoon's old residence looking like this—it must have gone at least several years without maintenance. It's not just that no dedicated staff were assigned; even cleaning hasn't been done, which is simply unimaginable.

Entering the front hall, dust covered everything, and Ethan couldn't help but cough twice. Stark turned to look at him and then said: "Sorry, this place hasn't been cleaned in a long time."

Ethan looked somewhat concerned and said: "I don't believe you don't have the time to call a butler to tidy up a bit. What is it that makes you so averse to this place?"

"This place doesn't welcome Stark." Stark said again, "All the happy memories I've had here were not created by this community or this house, but by my family and friends."

Peter seemed to realize something, but just as he was about to speak, he suddenly looked toward the door and said: "Someone's coming."

"Hey, is anyone in there?!" Suddenly, a flashlight beam swept over, flickering across Peter's eyes and making him uncomfortably frown. He couldn't help but complain: "In broad daylight, why are you shining a flashlight?"

As they drew closer, they realized the several people were wearing police uniforms and approaching aggressively. Shining flashlights in people's eyes was clearly intentional. But when they pushed the door open and stormed in, seeing Tony Stark's face standing in the center, they instantly fell silent, as if someone had grabbed their throats.

"What are you doing?" The first to express dissatisfaction was Dr. Banner. Setting aside the Hulk for now, he himself is not someone with a good temper—accurately speaking, he has a trait of repaying evil with evil, and he can't stand those who bully the weak with strength.

These police officers actually shone bright flashlights into people's eyes and then boldly barged into someone else's house—this is already a very rude offense. And their silent reaction upon seeing Stark makes Dr. Banner think even less of them.

Everyone present understood what was happening. This group of police likely saw a car drive up here, assumed it was Stark's people sent by him, and didn't expect Stark himself to have come in person.

Of course, it's also possible because Stark didn't drive his own luxury car but instead used Dr. Ethan's commuter vehicle. And since Dr. Ethan works for Stark Industries, his car is uniformly issued by the group, making it look like a few Stark Industries employees had come here.

"Sorry, Mr. Stark, we didn't know it was you..."

Stark's expression was one of annoyance, even openly so. In fact, although Stark is quite proud, he is not a particularly rude person. Although his words often leave people half-dead with anger, he still maintains basic courtesy.

But now his expression truly qualifies as very rude—that disgust can no longer be concealed. The moment he opened his mouth, Peter could imagine what he was about to say, so Peter spoke first:

"What are you doing barging in here?!"

"Oh, Mr. Parker." The police also recognized Peter, who is now a world-renowned scientist. Then came Banner and Ethan. They two aren't particularly famous, but their scholarly demeanor is very strong—one glance tells you they're not ordinary people.

"Sorry, sorry, we're leaving now." The police tucked their tails between their legs and were about to flee. These people certainly wouldn't let them off easily.

"Wait, don't go." Ethan called out to them—don't forget he's been on the battlefield. If the other side doesn't reason with him, he also knows a bit of physics; if they don't understand physics either, then he still has truth. Ethan is carrying a gun.

The police had no choice but to stop. Ethan walked to their side, seemingly making a casual move, but actually cutting off their retreat. He said: "What are you here for?"

"Well... this is a gated community." The police explained, "We have to inspect any outside vehicles."

Actually, if they had just stood outside and shouted a couple of times, this excuse would have been acceptable. These people have no intention of making things difficult for ordinary law enforcers. But the problem is these police didn't just shine bright flashlights in people's eyes—they also directly stormed into the house.

Although New York State's castle law is essentially a dead letter and doesn't support things like armed self-defense or retaliatory killings, police unions are powerful and relatively tough. But don't forget: this is the wealthy area within the wealthy area. The police who operate here are all sharp individuals—how could they be so careless? Aren't they afraid of offending people?

Or perhaps, could it be that these few people coming this time are actually Stark Industries employees, and thus they can act this way? Don't they worry about offending Stark?

"Don't ask anymore." Stark waved his hand and said, "Let them go."

Banner still wanted to say something, but Peter stopped him. Finally, the police fled with their tails between their legs, and everyone turned to look at Stark.

"Do you know anything about the history of the Stark family?"

The few of them looked at each other, then at me—they really didn't know. Peter thought for a moment and said: "I heard it was your father, Old Stark, who founded Stark Industries, and that he was self-made?"

Stark shook his head and said: "My grandfather was a railroad tycoon. At the peak of the Stark family's glory, we built nearly all the railroads along the East Coast. Although most are now abandoned, that indeed brought us a considerable fortune."

"My father inherited all of this and, together with my grandfather, founded Stark Industries. He was a genius and managed things well. Under his leadership, Stark Industries gradually developed into a colossus capable of influencing the global landscape. But that doesn't mean we were welcomed by high society."

This final twist was too abrupt, leaving everyone dazed. Aside from Stark, the others' backgrounds aren't impressive—at best, they're ordinary commoners, not even solidly middle-class—so this logic seemed utterly incoherent to them.

"I don't understand." Dr. Banner was the first to raise the question: "When you Americans were building railroads on a large scale, you were already famous tycoons, and the industrial group you founded was thriving—you had the technology and the industry. Then you say you weren't welcomed by high society?"

Stark nodded and said: "New York is the domain of Jewish financial conglomerates. Their takeover of this city and the entire nation wasn't overnight, and Stark was the toughest opponent they ever encountered."

Everyone was somewhat at a loss for words—this clearly exceeded their knowledge. Peter seemed to have some impression, because Dr. Shiler had mentioned some of this to him before, but since he wasn't interested, it went in one ear and out the other, and he doesn't really remember.

"In your view, finance and industry should complement each other. Without industry, finance is just a bubble. But in reality, some people love creating bubbles, and even more love destroying all industry to make room for those bubbles. This is a long-lasting struggle."

Put that way, the few of them somewhat understood. Because whether it was Stark's grandfather or father, they were industrialists. No need to say "king of industry" for railroads—Stark Industries initially made cars, then weapons, and these projects are the pinnacle of industrial achievement, requiring a complete industrial foundation.

Meanwhile, it's clear that in the second half of the 20th century, the United States gradually shifted from an industrial nation to a financial one. All kinds of industry declined, many industrial cities like Detroit went bankrupt, and industrialists had no choice but to jump into the financial tide, actively embracing bubbles.

But the Stark family is an exception. They have always insisted that industry comes first—focusing on basic industry, preserving production lines, with three generations unwavering in this stance.

This is actually an extremely difficult feat—so rare it could be called a phoenix feather or unicorn horn. Because even if the first two generations recognized the importance of industry, the young Stark born and raised in the latter half was all too susceptible to the rapidly inflating financial bubble.

Pouring the same amount of money into a production line might yield no results for years, but pouring it into the stock market can multiply it several times overnight—few can resist such temptation.

Yet, Howard Stark resisted, and Tony Stark also resisted. Amid wave after wave of financial turmoil sweeping through, the Stark family remained like a nail, firmly driven into New York's industrial heart, unmoving and steadfast.