The moment Nolan Locke announced that he intended to shut down the Weapons Division, the entire hearing room fell into stunned silence. Every hearing officer stared at him in disbelief, as if they could not decide whether he was insane or simply daring the world to oppose him.
Did this man understand what he was saying?
Locke Technologies was no longer some young upstart in the military industry. After the creation of several groundbreaking combat machines, the company had completely reshaped modern warfare. In fact, it had already replaced Stark Industries as the military's most irreplaceable supplier. If Nolan had ever shown interest in expanding into conventional weaponry, countless established industrial giants would have been crying in the streets by now.
So when the world's most influential military contractor suddenly announced he no longer wished to deal in weapons, the meaning was too obvious to ignore.
And with aliens recently confirmed to exist, the timing could not have been more terrifying.
This was a warning.
Everyone understood that Nolan's declaration was not a comment; it was a veiled threat. A polite one, perhaps, but a threat nonetheless.
Yet Nolan remained calm, composed, and unbothered by the wave of shock rippling through the room. He had no intention of allowing politicians to pressure him. If he allowed himself to be easily handled, he might as well become a villain and simply steal whatever he wanted.
A year ago, he might have chosen a subtler approach. But now, even with countless alternative strategies in his grasp, he deliberately chose the most direct route.
His message was simple.
Do not target me.
After a long silence, the chief hearing officer finally stood and said, "Mr. Locke, the matter of your company withdrawing from the military sector is not within the scope of today's hearing. And what Hearing Officer Duke said earlier was indeed inappropriate. An alien invasion is not sufficient justification to force a lawful businessman to surrender his core technology. We will address his misconduct separately.
"However, Locke Technologies' violation of regulations remains a factual matter. Unless you have objections, the fine will be set at thirty-seven million dollars."
Nolan smiled and nodded. "Of course. I will give it serious consideration."
Fines were nothing new. He had expected worse. If Duke had not carelessly brought up a forbidden subject, Nolan suspected the fine would have easily surpassed half a billion.
But thirty-seven million? For Locke Technologies, that was little more than pocket change.
"The hearing is hereby concluded. In a few days, we will issue a formal commendation for your contributions during the alien invasion." The gavel struck.
The hearing ended abruptly, almost anticlimactically.
Nolan cast Duke a final glance before walking out of the room.
Outside, a massive crowd awaited him. The moment Nolan stepped into sight, the crowd erupted in cheers. He raised his hands lightly, and the roar faded into absolute silence. The entire plaza, packed with tens of thousands of people, became so quiet that even a pin drop would have echoed.
This was influence.
This was the power he had built through relentless effort.
After offering a few reassuring words, he dismissed the crowd. When the hearing officers stepped out behind him, they could not help but sigh. Nolan Locke was not only wealthy; he had amassed a level of public influence capable of shaking the political landscape.
If Nolan Locke announced he was running for president, none of the hearing officers would doubt his chances.
"Red Queen, investigate that man named Duke," Nolan murmured.
No answer followed, but he knew his AI assistant had already begun her work. Becoming a hearing officer required intelligence and political sharpness. Duke's slip of the tongue was no accident. Nolan would find the real motive soon enough.
News of the hearing spread quickly.
Nick Fury's face turned completely ashen. Accidentally triggering an alien invasion was one thing. Covering it up was another. Had word never gotten out, he might have survived politically. But now, everything was collapsing. Fury could already see his career ending and had begun preparing Deputy Director Maria Hill to take over his responsibilities.
Elsewhere, several high-ranking generals arrived at the Hive, Nolan's technologically advanced headquarters.
The atmosphere in the office was tense, almost suffocating. The only person smiling was Nolan.
"Carter, bring our guests some coffee," Nolan said casually.
Sharon Carter nodded, her professional calm unable to hide the tension in her eyes. She knew exactly who these men were. Every one of them held enough authority to shake the nation.
Before Nolan could speak, a bright streak shot past the window. Tony Stark arrived, still in his suit. Nolan blinked in surprise but gestured for the Red Queen to open the smart window. He understood Stark's habit of flying everywhere in armor; Nolan had designed his building's windows for quick exits.
"Oh? Everyone's here already?" Tony asked, sounding genuinely clueless. But the generals immediately felt their temples throb.
"Tony Stark, what are you doing here?" General Ross asked with a frown.
Despite Tony's international fame, these generals were immune to celebrity worship. Ever since he shut down Stark Industries' weapons division, they had stopped liking him.
"I'm here to talk to a friend. But if you all have business, go ahead. I'll just wait." Tony said it casually, but then sat directly on the sofa.
He wasn't planning to leave.
Nolan chuckled. For all Stark's flaws, he had his moments. He had clearly guessed why the generals were here and had come specifically to show support. Nolan didn't need backup, but loyal fellowship was always welcome.
"Alright, gentlemen, let's get to the point," Nolan said, taking his seat.
The generals exchanged glances. Then, as usual, Ross spoke first.
"Nolan Locke, during the Battle of New York, Locke Technologies deployed several types of combat machinery that had never been revealed before. We are here because the military wants purchasing rights for those weapons."
Although Ross phrased it as a request, his tone left little room for negotiation.
Tony raised a brow. "You don't sound like you're asking."
"We are asking," another general said. "Otherwise you would be speaking with an armored division instead of us."
Tony clicked his tongue and fell quiet. There were some topics even he knew not to provoke.
Nolan smiled. "During the battle, I deployed every prototype unit I had to protect New York. Before we discuss purchase rights, shouldn't we first discuss Locke Technologies' losses?"
"Rest assured," Ross said quickly. "The military will cover all damages. Submit a full list, and we will take responsibility."
Nolan's smile widened.
This was no small matter. This wasn't the few billion he squeezed out of Nick Fury. Given the scale of damage to his experimental units, he would easily recover several hundred billion.
Which meant he could finally consider creating a new trump card.
The Titan units were powerful, but they were no longer secret. A trump card, by definition, must remain unknown.
Maybe he should build a real Mecha Godzilla.
The size would be a problem, but its potential uses were exceptional.
"Now, can we discuss purchasing rights?" Ross asked, staring at Nolan with an intensity that suggested he wanted to swallow him whole.
"Of course," Nolan replied.
Ross handed over a laptop containing photos of dozens of combat prototypes. Nolan glanced at the images, then closed it.
"You've collected everything, I see. So what exactly does the military want?"
"All of it," Ross said without hesitation.
Nolan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Many of the units you listed are still in the testing stage. I believe your analysts have already determined that not all of them are suitable for mass deployment."
Ross nodded. He had expected that answer.
"In that case, let's focus on the essentials. We want the Hammer-class armor, the black armored suits worn by the Avengers, and..." Ross listed several more items, though both men knew their real target was the Hammer-class suit.
"I'm afraid the Hammer-class armor is off the table," Nolan said. "Its value was already set at one hundred billion. Although the technology is now replicable, the cost remains astronomical. If the military truly wishes to purchase it, the price is seventy billion."
The generals silently cursed.
Still the same outrageous price.
Nolan continued before they could object. "However, the black armor can be sold. It is mature, reliable technology, but extremely expensive to manufacture and must be customized. The price is one hundred and thirty million per suit."
The generals' expressions darkened. Nolan Locke refused to budge. He had no intention of giving them a discount.
But they needed those suits, and they knew it. The military would buy them no matter how much they disliked the price.
Nolan watched them struggle, his smile warm and harmless.
You want to pressure me?
Impossible.
This was a complete win for him.
Still, something about the generals' arrival felt off.
They weren't just here for business.
Nolan narrowed his eyes slightly.
Something else was coming.
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