Why do villains always have to turn themselves green?
Do they all just like that color? Is it some weird rule that to stand out in life, you need a splash of green? But turning your whole body green? That's pushing it.
Aetheris chose to ignore the fact that he himself carried the Hulk's bloodline.
Come on, his transformation was the product of advanced technology — and it didn't even require turning green!
"Looks like Spider-Man's story is about to begin. Happy!"
"Right away, boss!" The chubby Happy instantly sprang into action.
"Head to Forest Hills in Queens, New York, and find a young man named Peter Parker. He should still be in high school," Aetheris recalled that Peter Parker was also a genius inventor. After becoming Spider-Man, he had even developed his own web-shooters — not only were they formidable weapons, but they could also adhere to most surfaces, withstand high temperatures, and possessed incredible tensile strength.
A tech genius like that? He definitely needed him on his side to advance his scientific ambitions.
"Oh, right. Pepper," Aetheris called out gently.
"What is it, boss?" Pepper never revealed her special relationship with Tony Stark in front of others. She didn't want people to think she had climbed the ranks through personal favors.
"Acquire all of Oscorp's shares today. I want to become their largest shareholder." Aetheris still remembered what Norman Osborn had done on that plane.
Such a minor player deserved to be crushed. Green Goblin? He could flatten him with one finger.
"Understood, boss," Pepper replied, noting it down on her tablet.
"Is my dear uncle Obadiah attending today's board meeting?"
"The Vice President will definitely be there. He's got plenty of proposals and documents that need your signature," Pepper explained.
"Perfect. I have some unfinished business with him."
After breakfast, Aetheris changed into a formal suit, the perfect picture of a people's man — even if his wealth suggested otherwise.
With a soft ding, the elevator doors slid open. Aetheris stepped inside — it was a private elevator reserved for Stark Industries' senior executives, accessible only to those at general manager level or above.
At the moment, he was alone.
Ding.
The elevator stopped on the eighteenth floor. A bald man with a shiny head and a full white beard stepped in.
He seemed a little surprised to see Aetheris already inside.
"Oh, Tony! Welcome home!" Obadiah moved in for a big hug.
Aetheris casually sidestepped, evading the gesture.
Obadiah's arms hung awkwardly in the air before he dropped them clumsily to his sides.
"You have no idea how heartbroken and worried I was when I heard you were kidnapped in the Middle East. If Stark Industries hadn't needed someone steering the ship, I would've flown there myself to rescue you!" Obadiah said dramatically, even squeezing out a couple of crocodile tears.
"You were worried about me? Please — you were probably praying I'd die sooner." Aetheris exposed the old man's schemes without a shred of mercy.
"Oh, my poor Tony. What kind of trauma have you been through to start spouting such nonsense?" A flicker of panic crossed Obadiah's eyes, but he quickly composed himself.
Stay calm. No matter what, he couldn't lose his cool.
The Ten Rings mercenary group he had hired was a highly secretive organization — even the CIA couldn't trace them. How could a reckless playboy obsessed with technology possibly know about it?
He must be bluffing!
"I don't think I'm the one traumatized. It's you, old fossil, who's lost your mind," Aetheris replied coldly.
"To think you were once considered my father's close friend. The two of you co-founded Stark Industries. My father, Howard, treated you like a brother. And you? All you've ever done is scheme to seize power and replace me!"
"Take a good look in the mirror lately? What do you see? Do you really think you have what it takes?"
Aetheris's tone sharpened. "You've always been nothing but a pathetic lackey. If my old man hadn't taken pity on you, you'd still be a nobody. Let me tell you something — even if I replaced you with a dog as Vice President, Stark Industries would still run just fine!"
"You… you… you!" Obadiah was so furious he could barely speak. When it came to words, he was no match for Aetheris, who had grown up scrappy, while he was just a so-called gentleman raised among the American elite.
"You what? You just don't know your place! And you have the audacity to claim this company can't run without you? Who do you think you are? This company can survive without anyone — except me! Top graduate of MIT, known across the streets as the 'Little Genius Inventor' — Tony Stark!"
Ding. The elevator doors opened. A group of company executives stood outside, ready to welcome back Stark Industries' long-absent chairman, Tony Stark.
But instead of a grand entrance, they were greeted by the sight of Obadiah clutching his chest, looking as though he were about to have a heart attack.
"What's going on? Should we call a doctor?" A woman well into her forties, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and flesh-toned stockings, rushed over and started rubbing Obadiah's chest.
What the hell? Could this old hag be Baldy's lover? In broad daylight, right here in public — and they're doing something this indecent? Aetheris stared, dumbfounded.
"Looks like it's time for a Stark-style corporate purge," Aetheris muttered. "Time to apply the ancient wisdom of the East — strengthen company culture through a practical and ideological overhaul!"
"Good morning, Chairman!"
Across the lobby stood a group of young corporate executives — all fresh talent handpicked by Aetheris himself.
Most were top graduates from Yale, Harvard, and MIT. Several international recruits had crossed oceans to join the company, many from the proud citizenry abroad — widely regarded as the United States' new talent reserves.
Needless to say, many of them were strikingly beautiful, perfectly fitting Aetheris's tastes.
One in particular caught his eye — a classic beauty with long, sleek black hair, dressed in a crisp white blazer and a fitted skirt that showcased her toned thighs. Her legs, easily ninety centimeters long, were wrapped in pearl-toned Givenchy stockings, pressed so tightly together that only four seams were visible.
But Aetheris had watched plenty of viral videos, and they always said beautiful legs pressed together should show five seams. So… where was the fifth one?
He could never figure it out.
"Greetings, everyone!" Aetheris waved cheerfully to the incoming wave of new talent.
"Good morning, Chairman!"
"Thank you for your hard work!"
"For the future of Stark Industries!"
Now this… this was what cutting-edge, interdisciplinary talent for the new era looked like. Obadiah and his group of washed-up cronies? Their time was up.
(End of Chapter)
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