"You? Applying to be a bodyguard?"
Tony stared at Daniel as if he had just heard the world's biggest joke.
Daniel nodded. "Yeah. You happen to need a bodyguard, and I happen to need an employer."
How convenient indeed.
Tony rolled his eyes, not bothering to play along. "Happy is the one you beat up, right?"
Daniel's eyes widened immediately. "Careful with your accusations. I've never even met your bodyguard."
"…I never said Happy was my bodyguard."
A throbbing pain started pulsing in Tony's temple. He snapped, "You're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Why are you trying to be my bodyguard?"
Daniel shrugged. "Can't help it. Agent salary is too low. Gotta take on side gigs to earn some extra cash. Some agents even write webnovels on the side. One guy stopped updating his story—his readers tracked down his address and broke his legs. He's still bedridden. But hey, the bureau ended up recruiting those readers. Talent like that is rare."
Tony: "…"
What kind of fever dream was this?
"I don't need a new bodyguard. And it's not like Happy is my only one." Tony rejected him without hesitation.
Jarvis chimed in at the perfect moment. "Sir, correction. Your other twelve bodyguards were also attacked and hospitalized this afternoon. The assailant's description was identical: a black-haired, black-eyed man wearing a pink T-shirt and beach shorts."
"???"
Tony stared at Daniel, who looked utterly innocent.
Was this something humans were capable of doing!?
"Artificial intelligence?"
Daniel was surprised by Jarvis's existence.
In his era, AI was everywhere—people were even dating artificial intelligences—but he remembered the game's timeline should be around 2008. AI at this stage was practically unheard of.
"Yes, sir. I am Mr. Stark's AI butler, Jarvis," Jarvis replied.
"Can you switch to a sultry female voice?" Daniel asked curiously.
"…No. Mr. Stark did not configure alternative voice packs for me."
"Boring."
Daniel clicked his tongue, genuinely suspecting Tony had some unusual kink.
Which normal man would set his AI butler to a magnetic middle-aged British uncle voice?
Tony took a deep breath. "I don't need a bodyguard. I can handle myself."
"You sure?"
Daniel raised a brow, grinning. "Don't blame me for not warning you. Outside, those stockholders are dying to chop you into eight pieces. They're scarier than terrorists. They might even cut off your little buddy and boil it into soup."
Tony froze on the spot.
After two seconds of silence, he practically ground out the words, "Congratulations. You're hired."
"Pleasure doing business with you, boss." Daniel beamed.
Los Angeles. The Walt Disney Concert Hall glowed brilliantly under the night lights, the red carpet rolled out in full splendor.
Reporters packed the area, cameras raised like an army of long-barreled rifles, all vying for interviews with the celebrities walking the carpet. Flash after flash lit up the scene.
Then—a low, aggressive engine roar surged from afar, drowning out all noise.
A sleek silver sports car sped toward the red carpet at a terrifying pace.
Just when everyone thought it would lose control and smash into the barricade, the car executed a clean, almost arrogant drift. Tires shrieked; the car halted perfectly at the carpet's entrance.
A sharp-eyed reporter instantly recognized the model—and its owner.
"It's Tony Stark!"
"Oh my god! Tony Stark actually showed up!"
"Hurry! Aim the cameras over there! Stop filming those two useless wannabes! Film Tony Stark!"
"…"
The media zone erupted in chaos.
Every camera and flash turned instantly, like sharks smelling blood.
After all, Tony Stark was the ultimate traffic magnet—more than any celebrity or politician.
His appearance immediately seized the spotlight.
Tony stepped out of the car and straightened his suit.
But his face looked rather pale, and his steps a little unsteady.
Daniel climbed out from the driver's seat, closed the door, looked at Tony, and shook his head. "You're kinda weak. Can't even handle that little bit of speed."
Who in their right mind drives over 200 km/h inside the city!?
Tony forced himself to suppress the churning in his stomach and the dizziness threatening to knock him out.
He swore he would never—never—ride in a car driven by Daniel again.
Trying to remain composed, he pretended not to hear Daniel and walked toward the hall entrance, his footsteps floating like he was walking on a cloud.
At the door, a large bald man waited.
Stark Industries' second-largest shareholder, his father's old friend—Obadiah Stane.
"Host doesn't show up but the guest arrives first?"
"Well, well, look who it is. Our hottest headline star."
Stane greeted Tony with a kindly smile, but his eyes flickered with something unreadable.
Then his gaze landed on Daniel.
Before coming to the event, Daniel had changed into a perfectly tailored white suit.
[Equipment: Charisma Suit (A very handsome suit that significantly boosts your charm)]
With its enhancement, and given Daniel's already impressive looks, he shone even brighter than the surrounding elites—almost overshadowing Tony.
Almost.
Nothing beats a billionaire glow.
Stane studied the striking young man beside Tony, suspecting immediately that his identity wasn't simple.
Trying to sound friendly, he asked, "And this gentleman is…?"
"My new bodyguard."
"?"
Stane froze.
Was the bodyguard industry this insanely competitive now?
Tony clearly didn't want to elaborate. After exchanging perfunctory greetings with Stane, he led Daniel into the concert hall.
Inside, Tony immediately spotted his assistant, Pepper Potts, chatting with someone while holding a wine glass.
"Do as you like."
Tony tossed the sentence at Daniel and walked straight toward Pepper, initiating open workplace flirting in front of everyone.
"No wonder he's called the legendary playboy. His flirting skill is definitely maxed out."
Daniel shook his head. He couldn't imitate that even if he tried.
Before the game started, he had been a single dog. Good-looking, sure, yet somehow still chronically single. He still didn't understand why.
At that moment, a blonde beauty in an elegant dress noticed him and walked over with a dazzling smile.
"Hey, did you come alone?"
"Of course. Half a person might scare you to death."
"…"