Chapter 215: Rogie

A few days later, under Gwen’s relentless toil as a wage slave, Paradise Group and Waterson Corp finally came into existence.

Paradise Group’s founding was quiet, attracting no major attention; New Yorkers glanced at it and forgot.

Isn’t it just another tech company?

Itachi can find dozens on any street!

Stark Industries, Osborn Group, Hammer Industries…

New Yorkers said they’d seen plenty.

But Waterson Corp was different—it instantly became a talking point, the hottest news topic of the past few days.

On social media, discussions about Waterson Corp surged in popularity.

Netizens were arguing fiercely.

Someone mused: “These days, superheroes are everywhere—now there are even superhero companies? The times really have changed.”

Others worried: “This is bad. How can superheroes who fight evil and protect the innocent be owned by a company? Is capital about to take control of superheroes?”

This comment received countless likes; the comment section exploded with replies: “Exactly! Soon superheroes will be manipulated at will by capital, becoming the bosses’ enforcers!”

Others countered: “Overreacting. There are so many superheroes now; the famous ones have fans just like idols—having a company run them is normal.”

Someone joked: “Maybe we’ll soon see superheroes doing ads—Spider-Man endorsing stockings? Just thinking about it is cool.”

Gwen scrolled through her phone, her face darkening, especially when she saw the post suggesting she endorse stockings—she flew into keyboard warrior mode and typed furiously.

Before she’d even finished cursing, her account got banned.

She slammed her phone down and glared at Rogie, who sat on a beach chair beside her.

Rogie wore sunglasses, lounging lazily in the sun, a fizzy chilled drink beside him.

They weren’t at the burger joint anymore.

To reward Gwen’s hard work these past days, Rogie had brought her to a seaside villa for a vacation.

Gwen complained: “Boss, the whole world is talking about your Waterson Corp.”

“Yet your company’s just an empty shell—no superheroes at all.”

Rogie removed his sunglasses and raised an eyebrow at her: “Who said there aren’t any superheroes?”

“Aren’t Itachi, little spider, the perfect mascot?”

Gwen’s eyes widened in disbelief: “Aren’t I just your secretary?”

“When did I become one of your company’s superheroes?”

Rogie snorted: “Bun, Itachi got a problem?”

Gwen crossed her arms: “Boss, Itachi’ve been exploiting me every day—now Itachi want me to work for free?”

Rogie took a casual sip of his drink: “I’ll raise your salary.”

“Once I bring in Tony, and find a few more superheroes, maybe we can assemble a top-tier team.”

“By the way, ‘Avengers Alliance’ is actually a decent name.”

“Let’s go with that.”

Gwen rolled her eyes: “What a lame name.”

Then she asked curiously: “Boss, aren’t Itachi the legendary Superman? Why don’t Itachi just reveal your identity and promote yourself like that playboy?”

Rogie leaned back, arms spread: “I’m a noble boss—do Itachi think bosses do manual labor?”

“Now that the company’s up and running, it’s time to announce we’re signing civilian superheroes and hold superhero recruitment contests across the country.”

“Then stream it live—earn money and recruit talent.”

Gwen doubted: “Will anyone actually sign up?”

“Aren’t all civilian superheroes lone wolves, terrified of exposing their real identities?”

Gwen herself had once been one—she knew this well.

Rogie smiled confidently: “Not every superhero is as rich as Tony.”

“There are plenty of broke superheroes.”

“Especially the obscure ones—they need money, and they desperately need a chance to become famous.”

“Plus, we can make a splash: the winner gets Stark Industries’ most advanced gear—a Iron Man-branded suit.”

Rogie paused, then added: “And with Itachi, Spider-Man, standing by—how could anyone resist?”

Gwen imagined the future superhero talent show and burst out laughing: “Fine, Boss, I’ll draft the announcement.”

“But don’t Itachi dare renege on the raise.”

With that, she stuck out her tongue and dashed into the villa.

Rogie suddenly remembered something.

He’d almost forgotten Captain America.

Had Captain America been thawed yet?

If he was still frozen solid, perfect—he’d make a perfect live mascot for the company.

Call him Hydra Captain—guaranteed to go viral.

With the Battle of New York approaching, Director Nick Fury had been scrambling to assemble the Avengers.

Of course, right now he was probably busy hunting moles inside S.H.I.E.L.D.—no time for Avengers.

But according to the plot, an oil exploration team might’ve already discovered the wreckage of a WWII strategic bomber buried in the Arctic ice.

At this thought, Rogie’s eyes instantly glowed pure white, his pupils vanishing.

Insight Eye—activated.

Vast streams of data flashed across his retinas.

Rogie began reading Earth’s information.

Moments later, he sat bolt upright: “Of course—Captain America’s still frozen in the Arctic like an ice sculpture.”

Rogie stood up; a wormhole appeared before him, icy wind and snowflakes gushing out.

The next second, he dove into the wormhole, entering a frozen wasteland.

Under the polar day, the snow beneath his feet glinted blindingly under the sunlight.

Rogie scanned the ground.

According to the data he’d read, Captain America was frozen deep beneath the ice.

At the same time, two wings forged from Dark Suyin silver sprouted from Rogie’s back.

Where the wings passed, ice split as smoothly as butter under a hot knife; a block of ice, wrapped in biting cold, shot skyward.

Inside the ice block, Captain America wore his star-spangled suit, clutching his vibranium shield tightly, sleeping soundly.

Rogie leaned in for a closer look.

Still alive.

Frozen for seventy years—no harm done.

Marvel’s science really didn’t play fair.

But with Rogie’s tech, even if Captain America had turned to rot, he could still revive him.

Thawing him? No problem at all.

At that moment, Rogie glanced around.

According to his perception, a S.H.I.E.L.D. team was scouting nearby.

Leading them was Captain America’s biggest fan—the ultimate S.H.I.E.L.D. workhorse, Phil Coulson.

They’d clearly found the bomber wreckage and came to collect their idol’s corpse.

“Perfect timing.”

Rogie smirked, made no move to greet them, and simply waved his hand—opened another wormhole.

He took the ice block containing Captain America and left the Arctic, making no effort to hide his trail.

“When Coulson notices the anomaly, Fury will assume Hydra got there first.”

Imagining Fury’s furious face, Rogie chuckled aloud.

(End of Chapter)