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The black-iron paint, four large headlights fitted with anti-aircraft-style covers, and six tires that made it look no different from an off-road vehicle all hinted at the imposing wartime design of this automobile. No matter what era it appeared in, it was destined to become the undisputed center of attention.
Gwen focused on the car's streamlined design and luxurious interior, imagining herself sitting inside. George, meanwhile, stared at the elongated hood housing a sixteen-cylinder engine, wondering just how much power the beast could unleash.
Henry pretended to be nonchalant.
"This was the Red Skull's personal car during World War II. It was captured as a war trophy by the U.S. military and later became part of Howard Stark's collection. Tony Stark, that spendthrift, gave it to me.
"It wasn't of any use to me, though, so I left it in the Stark family's garage all this time. That was until I asked Miss Katherine Hepburn what I needed to prepare for a high school prom.
"She told me a man needs a decent outfit, a flower for his date, and a limousine to take her to the prom. Those are the basic three. So I specifically went to Long Island to bring this car over. It's the only limousine I have."
Did Henry know that he was showing off?
No! Of course he did.
This was merely a little retaliation after the girl had warned him not to show up dressed like Marilyn Manson.
A naturally contrary man like Henry hated being told what he could or could not do. If he didn't find some way to cause trouble just outside the line someone had drawn for him, he'd practically be letting himself down.
So Henry had shamelessly gone to find that young master and driven this car home. Now that he had a property of his own, he could modify the underground parking garage and put it to good use.
He was always saying he didn't want to take anything from the Stark family, but this car...
It was simply too hard to refuse.
Henry hadn't even considered upgrading it with modern high-tech modifications. The fact that it was an original World War II model was precisely what gave it character!
But faced with Henry's preparations, which were far beyond anything appropriate for a high school prom, Gwen was the one who felt awkward.
For a high school prom, most students pooled their money with several friends and rented a luxury car for the evening. It was also a chance to experience what a truly expensive car—or a stretch limousine—felt like.
But an antique car of this caliber...
Wasn't that going a little overboard?
The girl looked down at her wine-red dress and voluminous skirt.
"I'm starting to feel like I'd need a designer gown worthy of walking the Hollywood red carpet just to match this car. Is it really okay for me to wear this?"
Gwen hadn't done anything particularly elaborate with her hair. Her long, straight blond hair hung down naturally, with especially conspicuous bangs that almost covered her eyebrows.
"Don't worry. You look adorable, and your dress is beautiful. There's no question of whether you match the car."
Henry casually took the iron rose from Gwen's hand and stepped behind her. He brushed her bangs aside, then gathered her hair into a bun and secured it with the stem of the iron rose.
Such a simple hairstyle gave her face an entirely different charm, while elevating her overall appearance by another level.
Once he was finished, Henry opened the car door and gestured with one hand, displaying his full gentlemanly manner.
"Ladies first. Please get in. I'm sure you don't want to be late for your own prom."
"Thank you."
Once inside, Gwen eagerly checked her new hairstyle in the rearview mirror. She didn't say anything, but judging by the way she clenched her fists in excitement, she was clearly delighted.
"George, I'm taking Gwen to her prom."
"Henry…"
The stern police commissioner had barely begun speaking when Henry immediately cut him off.
"Don't worry. I'll bring her straight back as soon as the dance is over. I guarantee she'll be home before curfew."
"What I was going to say is, if you do anything foolish, you could be sentenced to death. You understand that, right?"
"Isn't that a bit excessive? Even if Gwen isn't an adult yet, she's not twelve years old. How could the sentence possibly be that severe?"
"I'll kill you myself."
George ground his teeth together as he spoke, wearing a ferocious smile.
Henry gave an awkward laugh.
"Don't think you're invulnerable just because you're immune to bullets and knives. Bullets infused with a father's love can penetrate anything."
This conversation wasn't going anywhere.
Run!
Henry hurriedly laughed it off.
"Uh, warning received. Don't worry. I'll bring her back safe and sound."
Then he jumped into the driver's seat.
It was clearly an act of fleeing for his life, yet somehow he made it look incredibly cool.
George could practically feel the veins bulging on his forehead.
Henry didn't dare linger. He stepped on the accelerator and sped away without looking back.
The girl sitting in the passenger seat laughed wholeheartedly, her eyes curving into crescent moons.
Because the rearview mirror wasn't at a very convenient angle, and Henry's eyesight wasn't particularly good at the moment, he could only ask the girl beside him:
"Does George look really angry?"
Gwen turned around for a look, remembering to wave at her father as though deliberately showing off.
"I think George is furious. You'd better drive faster, or he might run upstairs and get his gun."
"You didn't tell George that I was the one going to the prom with you, did you? If I'd known, I would've called him myself to confirm."
"No, I don't think that's the problem."
"Hmm. Did I go a little overboard with the preparations?"
Henry wasn't completely oblivious to what he'd done.
"This is just a normal prom at a public high school. What do you think?"
"All right. I'll improve next time."
"Oh? Who else are you hoping will invite you to a prom? Skye?"
"Then she'd get to see me dressed as Marilyn Manson. You shouldn't have forbidden me from dressing like that. At least George wouldn't look like he was about to have a stroke right now."
"No. If I'd allowed you to dress like that, I'd be the one going crazy. So for my sake, George can just suffer a little."
Gwen said it without the slightest hesitation, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.
"What a filial daughter and granddaughter," Henry said speechlessly.
The Red Skull's personal car was probably unrecognizable to most people in this era. Then again, it probably hadn't been particularly recognizable even during World War II.
But this antique Mercedes-Benz still had a one-hundred-percent head-turning rate on the road. No one who saw it could simply ignore it.
The front alone accounted for nearly half the length of the car. Plenty of people driving sports cars along the road wondered what kind of monster engine was hidden beneath that enormous hood.
Some sports cars pulled over nearby, their drivers holding the clutch while revving their engines, waves of exhaust and engine noise rolling outward. Their eyes were full of challenge.
Others had beautiful girls sitting in the passenger seats, blowing flirtatious whistles and driving their male companions even crazier.
Henry ignored every one of these provocations.
Asking this World War II monster to race modern sports cars was simply asking too much of it.
This thing didn't rely on speed to turn heads.
It relied on having a style that nobody else possessed!
Their first stop wasn't the prom venue.
Instead, they headed to an upscale restaurant that had been reserved in advance.
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