Chapter 134: Funeral

Howard Stark's funeral was held in Ridgeford, central New York State — his birthplace and the resting place of his parents, within the town's church cemetery.

The Stark family was not yet worthy of the title "family"; besides its sparse population and three generations of single heirs, the only truly important members were Howard and Tony Stark.

Now that old Stark had fallen, young Stark, though universally recognized as a genius, was only so in the field of science. In business, he had yet to prove himself.

Very few people received invitations to the Stark family funeral, yet an overwhelming number showed up uninvited.

Those who knew him gathered in clusters, mostly people from the same fields — clearly revealing what manner of people Howard Stark's friends were.

The largest and most orderly group was the military. Their dress uniforms and chest medals clearly identified their ranks.

Starting from colonels, with stars clustering thickly, they represented all four branches: Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marine Corps. If these men were killed, the U. S. military would not be paralyzed — but it would be severely wounded.

Another group came from the cultural sphere — mostly Hollywood figures and the accompanying journalists.

Some genuinely knew old Stark; others were merely here for the spotlight. Yet everyone behaved properly — even the journalists were quiet, well-behaved as kindergarten children.

Anyone too aggressive in interviewing or causing trouble was taken away by the military's burly men.

A single order from a general — "This concerns state secrets" — meant those taken away would never see daylight again. Who knew what state secrets were at a funeral? But their word was law.

Henry had witnessed it firsthand: a particularly rowdy reporter from the British Sun was simply knocked unconscious and dragged off. Whether he'd ever make it back to Britain was unknown.

In the power struggles among conglomerates, a journalist's life carried no more weight than a feather.

With such a bloody example before them, no one dared misbehave.

If you wanted news, an official press release would come later, complete with official photos provided by Stark Industries. To act up was to test what it felt like to be crushed by money — in every possible way.

Henry stayed with the two Lady He Bens among the Hollywood crowd, in a front-row position.

Besides her star status, Catherine He Ben's personal friendship with old Stark was well known; no one dared push her to the back.

The most lax group was the tycoons and financiers. Many Henry had seen at Audrey He Ben's fundraising banquet.

They stood scattered but moved and buzzed like bees, as if conspiring, always wary of one another.

There was another peculiar group — smallest in number, yet surrounded by the most empty space, because no one dared get too close.

Led by an elderly lady with silver shoulder-length hair, stood a slightly gaunt white-haired old man, behind them a mummy wrapped in bandages, and others wrapped tightly in overcoats, their faces entirely concealed.

Some of the limbs beneath the coats clearly weren't human — especially the furry tails and long wolf-like muzzles…

So, that was the famed Howling Commandos. And the woman leading them was likely Lady Peggy Carter, regarded as Captain America's widow.

Indeed, she bore no resemblance to actress Haley Atwell at all.

Judging by his appearance, he was roughly the same age as Audrey He Ben — but his physical condition was far sturdier, not as frail as Lady He Ben.

The person who drew Henry's attention most was a one-eyed man in the group — wearing a black overcoat, brown hair with white temples, his frame massive like a bear.

Key point! He was white!

This supposed White Nick Fury made Henry glance again — and that glance triggered the man's alertness; he looked back.

Sensing the man's piercing gaze, Henry, like a young fool curious about the Howling Commandos' unusual figures but embarrassed to be caught, returned the stare with his usual clear, stupid expression, avoiding and dodging the eyes.

Of course, this was acting. He only hoped his performance wouldn't draw attention — whether they were Howling Commandos or part of S. H. I. E. L. D., intelligence organizations were always troublesome.

The funeral mass was led by the town's priest. He himself couldn't believe he'd be officiating the funeral of someone like Howard Stark and his wife — he looked flustered.

Fortunately, though minor details weren't perfect, the entire ceremony proceeded without major issues.

The one who truly directed the entire funeral, replacing Tony Stark — who had vanished somewhere — was Howard Stark's manservant, the Stark family's butler, Edwin Jarvis.

The fact that this man barged through the crowd and everyone parted like Moses dividing the sea revealed just how high Edwin Jarvis's status was at this funeral.

Even Obadiah Staney, Howard Stark's business partner and Stark Industries' second-largest shareholder, could only play second fiddle.

Henry recognized the old butler not by face recognition, but because Jarvis personally approached Catherine He Ben to greet her. From their conversation, Henry learned his identity.

Before Henry arrived, no one in the Hollywood group had received such treatment. Only Catherine He Ben did. Others who looked like big bosses could only nod from afar.

With such prestige, no wonder Catherine could disregard social hierarchy and stand at the very front of the Hollywood crowd, while all the big bosses and directors stood behind. Audrey He Ben and Henry were merely basking in her reflected glory.

In short, judging from who ran the funeral, regardless of whether bald Obadiah had rebellious intentions at this stage, as long as the loyal butler remained, Stark family could never be overturned.

During the coffin procession, Howard Stark's coffin led, carried by six generals — from all branches, arranged strictly by number of stars.

Maria Stark's coffin was led by Tony Stark, the young master who had been absent until now, wearing sunglasses, followed by the white-skinned, black-coated one-eyed man, then Edwin Jarvis, then Obadiah Staney.

The final two bearers were relatives or friends from Maria's side — Henry couldn't recognize them, nor did he overhear their names or identities from any conversation.

Yet anyone carrying a coffin at such an event must be closely related and of considerable standing.

Throughout the entire funeral, Henry felt much like most others — not sorrow, but simply the thrill of watching a show.

Yet no one caused trouble here, given the precedent. It wasn't that the Stark family was too tyrannical — it was the U. S. military that intervened. Was there any organization more ruthless?

Most likely, everyone was thinking: what benefit could I extract from Howard Stark's death?

It was like a whale fall — when a dead whale sinks, it nourishes countless small marine organisms. This process can last months, even years.

So Howard Stark's death should be good news for everyone… except his family.

Even those whose micro-expressions, hormone levels, and brainwave patterns clearly showed grief could not suppress their desire to profit from it.

Of course, a friend's death is sad — but you still take what's yours, right?

(End of Chapter)