Following Raza into the tent, Obadiah glanced around before finally fixing his eyes on the table.
On it sat a pile of schematics and a laptop — nothing else worth noting.
Obadiah sat down, leaning lazily back in the chair, waiting to hear what story this man was about to tell.
Raza didn't react to his arrogance. He calmly opened the laptop, loaded up a video file, and placed it in front of Obadiah.
The video? None other than Tony Stark in a cave, assembling the Mark I and testing its weapons at the entrance.
Watching the footage, Obadiah picked up the schematics and leafed through them, murmuring in surprise:
"So this is what he used to escape?"
But then he frowned.
"No… Stark said he was rescued by Smith Doyle."
He also noticed that in the video, Stark had no enemies to fire at during testing — Raza's men must have all been dead already.
And then, further into the video, a man appeared on screen whom Obadiah recognized immediately — Smith Doyle.
The same man he'd seen at the charity gala. The one credited with rescuing Tony.
Raza paused the video and pointed at the screen.
"This man. Smith Doyle? Who is he?"
Obadiah didn't hide anything.
"That's him. Smith Doyle. According to Tony, he's the one who rescued him. As for his identity — some kind of underground boss. Calls himself leader of the Assassin Brotherhood… or Assassin Alliance. Something like that."
Raza memorized the name and affiliation. This was now personal. He'd make sure to repay the humiliation.
Then he gestured at the schematics.
"These are just his early drafts. Stark has since perfected his work. That thing that attacked Gulmira today? That was Tony Stark. A true ultimate weapon."
Obadiah's mind flashed back to the military press conference earlier today.
Raza continued, his tone low but full of ambition:
"With dozens of those ultimate weapons, I could rule all of Asia. And you… you could claim his kingdom."
The kingdom, of course, being Stark Industries.
Raza sank onto a couch, poured himself a drink, and smiled coldly.
"If we keep working together, I'll give you these schematics and the video."
Obadiah's eyes flicked back down to the plans — the rough outline of the Mark I armor sketched out before him.
But in his heart? He sneered. This trash couldn't even kill Tony Stark properly. And now he wants to 'work together'? Pathetic.
Raza raised his glass and added:
"All I want in return is a whole army of Iron Men."
Obadiah rose with a polite smile, stepped over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Then, with his other hand, he pressed a small MP3-sized sonic device to Raza's chest.
Immediately, Raza froze, muscles locking up, eyes bulging.
"This is the only gift you'll ever get from me," Obadiah murmured, taking Raza's glass and turning off the device.
"You want technology? Technology is the weakness of people like you."
Pulling out his earpiece, Obadiah smirked as Raza writhed silently.
"Relax. In fifteen minutes you'll be fine. Worry about what comes next."
He strode out of the tent, his guards having already subdued Raza's men outside without a sound.
"Load up the laptop and the schematics," Obadiah ordered. "And clean up this mess."
Gunfire erupted immediately as his men followed his command.
Settling into his car, Obadiah called his own office.
"Set up a new classified project — ARC Reactor Zone 16. All data is to be secured. I want our best engineers working on a prototype right away."
…
The next morning.
Smith woke lazily in bed, glancing over at Fox beside him. He gave her a firm smack on the backside.
"Up. Sun's already high."
Fox groaned, rolled over, and grabbed him playfully.
"Seems like you're the one who woke up feeling frisky."
Before he could protest, she rolled on top of him, pinning him down and planting a deep kiss as another heated morning round ensued.
Afterward, showered and dressed, Smith sat on the bed as Fox emerged in nothing but a towel.
"There are two things," he said calmly. "First — how's the stock repurchase of Stark Industries going?"
Fox thought for a moment before answering.
"Ever since you attended that gala, we've been quietly buying up shares. So far we have more than enough to cover our earlier debts, with plenty left over."
Smith nodded — perfect timing, since Tony would soon announce himself as Iron Man.
"And second… Bulma's combat power scouter is ready for mass production. You'll need to set up a company and prepare a press conference to launch the product."
Fox arched an eyebrow.
"And the name of the company?"
Smith pondered. Frieza Galactic Realty? Capsule Corporation?
The former fit, since the scouter was used by Frieza's troops. The latter fit, since it was Bulma's invention.
He smiled faintly.
"Capsule Corporation. The name will make sense soon enough."
Fox wrinkled her nose.
"That doesn't really mean anything here, you know. Why not just call it Smith Industries? Or Doyle Enterprises?"
Those names sounded tempting… but Smith shook his head.
"No. Capsule Corporation. One day the whole planet — no, the whole galaxy — will understand how great this company is."
Fox shrugged.
"You're the boss."
As she moved to pick up her clothes, the towel slipped, baring her completely. Smith grinned wickedly, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her back onto the bed.
"Oh god… you again?" she moaned.
"I can't take it…"
…
(End of Chapter)
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