Andrew raised his right hand and made an "OK" gesture.
Playing the race card in front of me?
Calling me a yellow-skinned pig?
"If you slap yourself a hundred times right now, I might consider letting you go."
He was offering what he thought was the most lenient way out kindness before conflict.
"Sorry, sir, but we noble races do not apologize to inferior ones," the elderly white woman sneered, her face sharp and filled with disdain.
Her husband, equally arrogant, shared her twisted beliefs. As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together.
To both of them, anyone who wasn't white was beneath them less than human.
They'd made such remarks before. And thanks to their status, wealth, and influence, no one had ever dared to stop them.
"You sure about that?"
Andrew hesitated. Deep down, he was a kind-hearted man from the East.
"Positive. Absolutely. Indisputably sure!"
The woman was smug to the extreme. It was as if her face was screaming: "White People Reign Supreme."
"And by the way, let me ask how could you, a white man, stoop so low as to be with someone like her? That kind of inferior race is only good for fooling around. But don't taint our pure bloodline by having children with her. That would be a disgrace!"
"If you keep talking like that, I'm going to hit you."
"So what? I'm insulting her. What can you do about it? I'll say it again: yellow-skinned pig—yellow-skinned pig—yellow-skinned pig! Hit me if you dare, you idiot!"
She screeched like a banshee, hurling slurs at the top of her lungs.
Smack!
Andrew's right hand moved instinctively, landing a hard slap across her face. The woman, who had just been screeching like a siren, flew backwards like a ragdoll toward the store entrance.
Crash!
With overwhelming force, she shattered the glass and rolled out onto Rockefeller Avenue.
"You bastard! How dare you hit my wife? I'll kill you!"
The white man, boiling with rage at the sight of his wife being struck, lost all sense of control. He grabbed a stick from the counter and swung it at Andrew's head.
Andrew struck out with his left leg.
Crack.
A faint sound broke the moment. The man's eyes widened as a choked, animalistic groan escaped his throat. Clutching his groin, he collapsed to the floor like a dying shrimp.
The entire altercation had taken less than a minute. Now, the couple's fate hung in the balance.
Andrew took a deep breath. The world suddenly felt... peaceful.
Thanos had the right idea. Crude and violent, yes but undeniably effective.
Inside the watch store, the clerks stood frozen. The onlookers hadn't even processed what happened, and yet both aggressors were already down.
"You all heard him. He told me to hit him so I did. Never had someone make such a weird request before."
Andrew clasped his hands together and addressed the crowd with a polite smile.
"Tony, will you be okay after hitting them?"
Wendy walked over cautiously, worry all over her face.
"It's fine. It was self-defense."
He gently patted her hand.
Behind the counter, a salesgirl's mouth twitched. Self-defense? You were the one who slapped first, weren't you?
"Lucky day, Old Wolf's treating us to chicken tonight! ♪ You call me, I don't answer what's the point of hitting him? ♪ What's the point♪"
"Hello? Hill? Perfect timing. I need a favor. Send someone over immediately. I think two armed agents from Central World just tried to start an insurrection. What? Robots are tearing up border towns and you need help? No problem, I've been dying to see the Destroyer in action."
Andrew ended the call and gave Wendy a reassuring smile.
"Don't worry. Just stay here, someone will handle everything soon."
She nodded. She trusted him completely.
Andrew turned and walked toward the exit.
"Sir, you can't leave. We've already called 911. Please stay here until the police arrive."
The store manager approached with several security guards.
"Oh? You're trying to stop me too? Where were you all when that old woman was spewing racist trash?"
Andrew removed his sunglasses and mask.
"Huh? You're Mr. Tony Stark!"
The manager's knees gave out, and he dropped to the floor.
"Let me ask again, are you sure you want to stop me?"
"N-no, not at all! I didn't recognize greatness standing right in front of me. I didn't realize it was you, Mr. Stark. Please, go ahead! Those two were clearly dangerous individuals out to harm you. We'll all testify to that!"
The manager turned to his employees.
"Right?"
"Absolutely! They even had weapons of mass destruction! If Mr. Stark hadn't stepped in, New York would've been doomed!"
A salesgirl chimed in enthusiastically.
The manager gave her a nod. Smart girl, she deserved a raise.
Andrew stepped onto the main street, raised both hands, and gave his smart wristband a little shake.
Passersby stared at him like he'd lost his mind. But Andrew remained calm, squinting up at the sky.
In the past, if that many people had stared at him, he would've wanted to hide under a rock. But things had changed. Even if he streaked naked down the avenue, tomorrow's Daily Planet headline would still read:
"The Great Performance Artist Tony Stark Sacrifices Himself for the Sake of Art!"
And the comments would all say:
"Daddy Tony is so handsome!"
"Daddy Tony is so down-to-earth!"
"I want to have Daddy Tony's babies!"
Whoosh...
Several streaks of light shot down from above, assembling into a full suit of armor around Andrew.
Clank...Clank...
The stunned crowd immediately pulled out their phones, snapping pictures.
What just happened?
Iron Man had appeared in the heart of the Rockefeller shopping district!
"Wow, that's insane! That must be the latest model, it can assemble itself remotely!"
Andrew ignored the cheers, gave Wendy a nod through the store window, then blasted into the sky, heading west toward the embattled towns on New York's border.
Two Hours Earlier
The ever-dashing Thor was whipping up breakfast for Erik and Darcy.
"Thanks."
Darcy gave Erik a look that said: See? Looks, charm, brawn and now he cooks too. Absolute catch.
"You're welcome," Thor replied, drying his hands with a towel.
Elsewhere, on the road near a small town, four flamboyantly dressed Asgardians strode forward confidently, using the coordinates Heimdall had provided.
"Boss, Team 2 has spotted movement. Unidentified individuals are approaching the target location."
Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents observed the approaching figures from a high vantage point using binoculars.
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09