Chapter 4822: The Little Devil Runs the House (Twenty)

Between the two of them, Bucky's circumstances were slightly better, whether it was his family's financial situation or his own looks. He even had enough to spare to help Steve out. Their bond being this ironclad was also inseparable from Bucky's help to Steve back then.

However, the young Bucky was a person without much staying power. He was much like all the other American slum teenagers — full of energy, but lacking patience, always working odd jobs, working three days and resting two; it was the same when he worked in the Hamptons.

Benefiting from his decent enough looks, finding work was a case of one found, one landed, but none lasted long. Either he'd work a few days, feel the job wasn't right for him, and take off, or he'd have conflicts with coworkers or the boss, or simply stop showing up because he couldn't be bothered. Every job was a brief taste; he had no deep impressions of those working years.

But Steve was different. Perhaps forced by life, he had patience when it came to work. But back then he was a frail youth; the aesthetics of America's Golden Age didn't favor that kind of look, causing him to hit a wall job-hunting again and again. Precisely because of this, he cherished whatever work he found, even if it was just bussing trays in a bar.

Bussing trays is actually far harder than most people imagine, especially in a bar. Often you have to carry a dozen-plus beers at once without spilling a drop, and your gait has to stay steady. And Steve just happened to land a boss with a vicious temper, constantly getting an earful.

Steve would often complain to Bucky about the grueling work, the impossible customers, the boss who acted like a madman, and certain things that even in this era still can't be spoken of openly.

Bucky keenly realized the latter might be the key. He remembered clearly: Steve once told him that in just a single month, every single one of his coworkers had been replaced. Everyone else had somewhere to go; only he kept bussing trays.

It's not hard to imagine that in the dizzying upper-crust world of wine, women, and fame, the few who don't get blinded are a tiny minority. Steve Rogers is one of them; Captain America didn't suddenly become a hero the moment he received the serum injection.

Thinking of this, Bucky felt a pang of emotion. But he was still wondering why Steve suddenly brought this up. Right then, he heard Natasha beside him say, "Come to think of it, I've been here quite a few times myself."

Natasha speared a piece of bacon into her mouth, then said, "Back then I'd only been in America a short while, had just joined S. H. I. E. L. D., was still getting the hang of the work — and they were still getting the hang of me."

"Back then they'd heard of the Black Widow, but had never seen her in the flesh; they just assumed I wasn't any different from an ordinary female agent, even took me for the type of socialite who uses her looks to wheedle intelligence. Of course, I do know that trick. They often sent me to high-society galas, quite a few of them in the Hamptons."

"Oh, right — did I ever mention?" Natasha set down her fork, looked at Stark, and said, "In 1977, or maybe 1979, I once saw your father and you at a lawn party at the Pix Estate. But you probably don't remember me anymore."

Stark nearly sprayed a mouthful of congee. He stared at Natasha, eyes wide, frantically searching his memory for any lawn party — but he genuinely had zero recollection.

So he turned to Greed. Greed shrugged and mouthed at him: "Rolls-Royce…"

A flash of insight struck, and Stark suddenly remembered: there did seem to have been such a party. The problem was, at the time Adi had gotten hold of a gorgeous Rolls-Royce; in that era a Rolls still carried serious cachet, required a background check on the buyer. Then Adi's little clique naturally went wild, sparked a whole series of conflicts with Stark's group, even dragged Howard into it.

At the time Stark was busy taking that crew down; he had zero bandwidth to notice who anyone's date was at the party. In his eyes, all those women in evening gowns were much the same. Stark had zero interest, so he completely missed the chance to meet the Black Widow for the first time at age nine.

"The world's a funny place," Hawkeye marveled. "Never expected you all had connections that early."

"That's because they're all New Yorkers," Greed said. "Or at least they were active in New York last century. You showed up late, so naturally you couldn't take part."

This universe's Hawkeye follows the comic setting, so he's next-gen. He saw Iron Man and decided to become a superhero — meaning by the time Tony Stark became Iron Man, he hadn't even entered the business yet, hadn't lived through the previous generation's tangled loves and hates.

"You ever seen that kind of movie?" Stark said. "Certain people, for different reasons, gather in a certain place, go through a series of terrifying events, and afterward discover they've had ties to that place all along."

"Looks like that's us," Steve quipped. "Just don't know what kind of event could actually terrify us."

But he soon thought of the girl he'd seen reflected in the mirror, and broke off abruptly. Bucky noticed his oddness, gave him a worried look. Steve shot him a "tell you later" glance.

After breakfast, they started moving. The move went smoothly; they'd rented a void-train, the route was pre-approved, loaded everything from the sanatorium onto it, and finished in a single trip.

But sorting things was the real headache. Steve stared at the huge pile of bizarre collectibles stacked in the living room and said helplessly, "What is all this? Where does it go?"

"They're all souvenirs," Greed said. He casually picked up a golden cup nearby and said, "This was bought at a market in Centaurus. And this one, bought on the commercial street beside the Grand Portal…"

"Whoa!" Stark had just picked up a fish specimen when its tail whipped him. He stared in shock at the fish bouncing on the floor, "How is this thing alive?!"

"Don't touch it, it's dead," Greed said wearily, walked over, picked up the struggling fish and tossed it aside.

"Where do you even find all this weird stuff?" Natasha marveled. "Just shove it all on shelves? Or send some to the study?"

Greed hesitated, picked and chose, left some in the living room, sent the rest to the study, and a portion to the bedroom. And it was exactly at this moment that Greed and the others saw the coffin Dracula had left in the master bedroom.

Holy cow, this kid doesn't miss a trick. Everyone assumed the coffin he slept in was the human kind — small, dark, hard as a board. Who knew, this guy's coffin is about the size of a human king bed, inside it not only has a springy mattress, rubber pillows, but is also laid with gorgeous wine-red silk sheets. The coffin's exterior and lid are covered in mysterious decorative patterns, and they're all gold-inlaid.

"This looks like some kind of… love-hotel prop," Stark assessed objectively. "The kind fanatical vampire-couple enthusiasts would pick for a Valentine's suite…"

With him putting it that way, the others also felt it did look a bit like that. Though the manor's decor was already lavish, the coffin wasn't too jarring; but no matter what, it's still coffin-shaped, and in a normal room it looks weird however you look at it — the more luxurious and comfortable, the weirder, as if the deceased had some peculiar obsession in life.

"Pack it up first." Greed turned into gray mist, stowed the deluxe bed-coffin away — might come in handy later to bribe some vampire. But sleeping in it? Forget it, too inauspicious.

As if designed just to fit that coffin, the master bedroom was huge; with the coffin gone it felt a bit empty. Stark looked at him and asked, "Got your furniture ordered?"

"Not yet. I originally planned to move the sanatorium bed over too, but looking at it now it seems a bit small, not very harmonious."

Though both are double beds, double beds come in different sizes, and styles differ too. Some with external frames and canopies look larger. Many retro manors use that type of bed, to match the intricate, lavish decor.

"There are beds in the gray mist," Pride said to Greed. "I moved a few from the Viscount's manor; see if any work."

Greed was surprised, but he checked, then turned into mist and coughed up a bed. It was a luxurious large bed with an external frame, satin and gauze canopies; the moment it was placed, all the dissonance vanished.

"Truly worthy of Gotham," Greed marveled. "Now I'm a bit curious — what kind of person builds a Gotham City house in New York?"

Those words seemed to give Pride an idea. He looked at Steve and asked, "The first time you came to the Hamptons, did you see this manor?"

Steve froze slightly; he genuinely hadn't thought of that. He thought back a moment and said, "Back then South Fork's layout was completely different from now, the bar I worked at wasn't by the sea, I might not have come this way… no, the ground here is high, logically I should've been able to see it. I don't remember it, but I can't be certain…"

"I remember there wasn't one," Bucky said with more certainty. "I used to wander all over South Fork and North Fork; if there'd been a house this weird, I'd definitely remember it, but there was absolutely nothing."

"It already existed when I was around," Natasha said. "I remember passing by a few times, even asked my date who the house belonged to, but none of them answered me."

"This house existed when I was a kid," Stark added. "At least in my memory it's always been here."

Pride started calculating: Captain America was born in 1918, enlisted after Pearl Harbor in 1941, so his time working in New York had to be before 1941; Bucky roughly the same.

He didn't see the manor then, proving the manor didn't exist before 1941. The manor must have been built after 1941.

This universe's Iron Man leans toward the movie setting, born relatively later, around 1970; by then the manor already existed.

In other words, the manor was definitely built between the 40s and 70s. But a 30-year span is still too wide; too many things could've happened, can't pinpoint which is key. Best to find another eyewitness who can help narrow the range.