The blond youth swung his baseball bat down toward Andrew's head.
Andrew calmly raised one hand and caught the bat mid-swing, then slammed a solid kick into the young man's stomach.
To the blond, it felt like being struck by a speeding motorcycle. He flew backward several meters, didn't even have time to scream, and landed curled up like a boiled shrimp, clutching his gut in agony.
"Watson! Watson!" the delinquent girl who had flipped him off earlier shook her dazed head from the impact. When she saw the blond sprawled at the edge of the car, she leapt down in panic to check on him.
"Which hand did you use to flip me off just now?" Andrew asked as he approached, towering over the writhing blond.
"You devil! You monster!" the girl screamed, clearly someone in desperate need of a serious wake-up call.
Or maybe she was just high. Andrew could see the telltale cluster of needle marks lining her arm.
"I'm a law-abiding citizen of New York. I stay away from drugs and set a good example." He casually sidestepped her clawing hand and planted his foot on her back.
"Hello, 911? I suspect someone's driving under the influence. Location?"
"You know who I am?" the blond suddenly composed himself the moment he saw Andrew making the call.
"My big bro's the top boss around here Tony!"
"Oh really? What a coincidence. I'm Tony too. Just not sure if your brother's a barber or a shampoo guy." Andrew hung up the phone and took off his sunglasses.
"Wait, you're Tony Stark?!" The blond's face twisted in horror, as though he had just seen an alien.
This was bad. No matter how tough his brother was, he couldn't possibly go toe-to-toe with Tony Stark, the man who didn't even fear the Department of Defense.
"Mr. Stark! I didn't recognize you! Please, treat me like a fart and just let me go!"
Now that he realized who he was up against, the blond's demeanor changed completely.
"Watson! Why are you still talking to him? Call your brother already! Get him to send some people and destroy this guy!" the girl shrieked from beneath Andrew's foot, her face smeared with dirt and grime and probably some animal droppings too.
She'd been pampered her whole life and had never suffered such humiliation.
Forget Tony Stark even if it were the President himself, she'd stab him if she got the chance.
"Wow, impressive. Your girlfriend's got more spine than you."
Andrew gave her a shove with his foot, knocking her to the side. Then, he wiped the dirt off his shoe on her stocking-clad leg.
"Bastard! I'll fight you to the death!"
Now free, the girl scrambled to her feet and charged at Andrew like she'd been violated a hundred times.
"Don't do it, Tina! We can't afford to mess with this guy!" Watson cried out, clutching his stomach as he grabbed her arm.
"Coward! Get out of my way! I must've been blind to ever fall for you!"
Tina was furious. Not only had she been humiliated, but her boyfriend was stopping her from getting revenge!
"You're hopeless. Whipped and useless," Andrew said, leaning casually against his car as he watched them argue. "Can't even handle your own woman. Want me to lend a hand?"
"Mr. Stark, please! We were just being foolish. If we'd known it was you, even with the courage of ten men, we wouldn't have dared to pass your car!"
Watson clung to the girl's waist, apologizing profusely.
"Heh. If apologies fixed everything, we wouldn't need the police. Consider this a lesson. Spend some time in the station and reflect. If anything like this happens again, I'll make sure you're blacklisted across the entire state of New York."
As the sirens approached, Andrew gave a few quick instructions to the incoming officers before getting into his car and driving off.
He had no time to waste on lowlifes like them.
As he left, Tina hissed coldly, "Why are you still holding me? Let go already!"
Watson immediately let go and sat down, still cradling his stomach.
The arriving patrol car stopped beside them. Two officers got out—one white, one Black.
"You again?" the white officer frowned when he spotted Watson.
Tina was still fuming and didn't pick up on the officer's tone.
Watson shot the white cop a pleading glance. "Officer, we're the victims here. All I did was overtake his car. Even if he's a billionaire, he can't just beat people up, right?"
"Nice try. The report says you two were driving under the influence," the Black officer said sharply, unfamiliar with who Watson really was.
"I'm placing both of you under arrest on suspicion of drug use. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court."
He reached behind his waist for handcuffs and moved toward Watson.
"Hold up, Johnson," the white officer said, grabbing his partner's arm and lowering his voice. "We can't arrest people just because Tony Stark says so. That's not how procedure works."
"You forget what happened last month in Minneapolis? The white officer who forced someone to kneel and killed them?"
"Yeah, but this isn't the same—besides, Stark said they were probably high," Johnson replied, visibly unhappy but clearly outranked.
"Listen, I'm doing this for your own good. Do you even know who that girl is?" the white officer asked, subtly nodding toward the brooding delinquent.
Johnson shook his head. His contacts were mostly from low-income neighborhoods—especially Black communities.
White elites? He barely crossed paths with them.
"Her father is Tony, the top crime boss in the state. If you take her in tonight, neither you nor your family will see the sunrise. I'm not kidding," the white officer said gravely.
Tony's criminal network ran like a shadow government—drugs, gambling, prostitution, human trafficking, arson, even murder—it was all routine for them.
In New York, you could curse out the mayor or a congressman and live to tell the tale.
But cross Tony?
You'd wish for death.
(End of Chapter)
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