Can't get enough? Why not read ahead?
Visit my Patreon or Ko‑fi page and unlock +20 extra chapters and daily updates for just $5!
Your support means the world to me. Check it out and enjoy the story even more!
patreon.com/Isopuff
https://ko-fi.com/isopuff
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
"William!"
The instant Obadiah Stane stepped out of the Home of the Devil Fruits, his voice rang out sharp and decisive. There was no hesitation, no wasted movement.
William reacted immediately. Without asking a single question, he drew the pistol from his waist and placed it into Obadiah's waiting hand. There was a glint in his eyes, anticipation mixed with disbelief, as if he, too, was eager to see what would happen next.
Obadiah inhaled deeply, his chest rising with barely contained excitement. Then, without a trace of doubt, he opened his mouth and shoved the handgun inside.
He swallowed it whole.
Almost instantly, he felt it.
The presence of the weapon was unmistakable, as real and tangible as one of his own limbs. It wasn't sitting in his stomach, nor did it feel like something foreign lodged inside him. Instead, it was as though the gun now belonged to him, an extension of his very being.
Then came the experiment.
Obadiah focused, activating the power of the Munch-Munch Fruit and carefully attempting to draw the weapon out. Slowly, his right hand began to change. The flesh warped and reshaped, his palm dissolving and reforming into something solid and mechanical.
Because his control was still crude, the transformation wasn't quick. Several long minutes passed as his hand gradually molded itself into the shape of a gun.
But Obadiah didn't mind at all.
If anything, his excitement only grew. He knew, without question, that with practice, this process would become faster, smoother, and effortless.
"Th-this is… unbelievable…" Obadiah whispered, lifting his newly formed gun-hand and examining it from every angle. His eyes shone with awe, like an artist gazing upon a masterpiece crafted by his own hands.
"A miracle," he said quietly.
"This is nothing short of a miracle!" William exclaimed, unable to hold himself back.
Even after witnessing Obadiah swallow the watch inside the shop, the sight before him was still overwhelming. Seeing a human body seamlessly turn into a weapon shattered every bit of common sense he had left.
"Devil Fruits…" Obadiah murmured, his voice low and reverent. "Devil Fruits… to think something this extraordinary truly exists in our world."
A new light surfaced in his eyes, something sharp, ambitious, and dangerous. With power like this, how could he ever settle for the status quo?
"Listen carefully," Obadiah said coldly, his tone snapping William back to attention. "Prepare weapons for me. Clean ones. You understand?"
"I want all kinds, but start with guns. Get them ready as fast as possible."
"Immediately. I mean now."
Once the initial excitement had settled, Obadiah pulled out his phone and made a call. Guns would be his starting point. He needed to master smaller, simpler weapons first. Once he could fully "digest" firearms with ease, he would move on to larger, more complex machinery.
For a man of Obadiah Stane's influence, powerful, wealthy, and deeply entrenched within Stark Industries, acquiring weapons was effortless. Orders were given, connections activated, and within moments, his subordinates were already in motion.
Before he had even returned to Stark Industries, confirmation arrived.
The weapons were ready.
Everything was falling into place.
Brimming with anticipation, Obadiah brought William along to one of his private, hidden facilities. The moment he stepped inside, his gaze swept over the scene before him, row after row of neatly arranged firearms, laid out with almost ceremonial precision. A slow, satisfied smile tugged at his lips.
"Good," he said quietly.
"William, clear the area."
The order was absolute. William didn't question it. He promptly escorted everyone out, himself included, sealing the space for Obadiah alone.
*Rumble!*
The heavy blast doors slid shut, locking with a resounding metallic echo. Now, the massive armory belonged to him and him alone.
Obadiah rubbed his hands together, grinning like a man about to indulge in a long-awaited pleasure. His excitement was barely contained as he strode toward the nearest table.
He picked up a submachine gun and, without even a flicker of hesitation, shoved it straight into his mouth.
He swallowed, and he did it eagerly.
Just as he reached for the next weapon, his phone began to ring. Annoyance flickered across his face. He hadn't planned on answering any calls today, but when he glanced at the caller ID, his expression darkened.
'Wesley.'
'That smug little bastard spy from the intelligence organization.'
Obadiah sneered coldly as he accepted the call. 'Enjoy your leverage while you still can,' he thought. 'Once I fully master the Munch-Munch Fruit, you'll all regret ever thinking you could control me.'
That day wasn't far off.
"Stane," Wesley's mocking voice came through the line the moment it connected. "I thought you were a sensible man. We've shown you plenty of sincerity, yet you seem… ungrateful."
"What are you talking about?" Obadiah snapped, irritation seeping into his voice. "I did exactly what you asked!"
And he wasn't lying. With such damning leverage hanging over his head, Obadiah hadn't dared to move recklessly. Every demand HYDRA made, he had fulfilled, down to the smallest detail.
"Did you?" Wesley replied coolly. "Then explain this."
"Why is it that our engineers still can't miniaturize the Arc Reactor? Are you certain the technical data you provided us is complete?"
The question hit like a blade.
Miniaturization wasn't supposed to be revolutionary. It was refinement, not reinvention. HYDRA had assigned some of the best scientists in the world to the task, and yet, they'd hit a wall.
Which meant only one thing.
The data Obadiah had given them wasn't perfect, and Wesley knew it.
"Listen carefully, Wesley. I've already given you everything I have," Obadiah said, his voice steady, with a faint edge of mockery slipping through. "If you can't miniaturize it, that's not my concern. That's your problem"
"Our problem?" Wesley scoffed coldly. "Stane, you'd do well to remember your position."
"That's right," Obadiah shot back without hesitation. "Your problem"
"And do you know why?" He let out a humorless laugh. "Because you don't have Tony Stark."
"You think I didn't try to miniaturize the Arc Reactor myself? I did. Over and over. But reality isn't fair," Obadiah continued, his tone sharp and bitter. "Tony Stark built a functioning miniature reactor in a cave, using nothing but scraps. And yet people working in cutting-edge laboratories still can't replicate it."
He paused, then sneered. "You of all people should understand what kind of genius Tony Stark is."
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.
"You'd better not be playing games with us, Stane," Wesley warned at last, his voice low and threatening. "Don't forget, your future is still in our hands."
The call cut off abruptly.
What Wesley didn't see was the look on Obadiah Stane's face in that moment. Any trace of restraint vanished, replaced by a darkness colder than ever before. When the time came, Wesley would be the first to suffer.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Elsewhere, in a dimly lit office.
Another voice spoke calmly beside Wesley.
"Nelson," Marco said, glancing up from his desk, "do you believe what Stane told you?"
Nelson, Wesley's real name, didn't hesitate for long.
"Yes, sir," he replied after a brief pause.
"Anything that comes from the Stark family," he added quietly, "is never ordinary."
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Next Chapter: The Bald Man Is Stunned
Next Next Chapter: The Avengers Initiative Goes Live
Next Next Next Chapter: The Secret Rhodey Wasn't Ready For
Visit my Patreon or Ko‑fi page and unlock +20 extra chapters and daily updates for just $5!
patreon.com/Isopuff
https://ko-fi.com/isopuff