"What's your name?"
"Happy Hogan, Mr. Stark."
At the very top of Stark Tower, a private helipad extended from the building like a steel wing cutting into the sky. The city sprawled endlessly below, neon and concrete merging into a restless sea.
Happy Hogan stood stiffly near the edge, hands folded behind his back. Meanwhile, Tony Stark was inside the open bar area, casually pouring drinks as if nothing in the world could disturb him.
"Happy," Tony said without turning around, "I don't want strangers crashing my tower ever again."
Happy's heart sank.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark."
He lowered his head. Years of security work had trained him to read tone, and this one sounded dangerously close to dismissal. Yet deep down, something felt… off. Tony Stark wasn't the kind of man who personally handled firings—especially not for a simple security lapse.
Tony finally turned, glass in hand.
"But I'll admit something," he continued casually. "The guy you let in yesterday? I'd pay two hundred million dollars just to own the ideas inside his head."
Happy froze.
"The AI model he gave me was incomplete," Tony went on, walking toward the helipad. "But even as a semi-finished product, it's revolutionary. The architecture is mature, efficient… and terrifyingly elegant."
He handed Happy a glass filled with a brown liquid the security captain had never tasted before.
"I'm certain he's holding back far more than what he showed me."
Happy accepted the glass awkwardly, his mind drifting back to yesterday—to the calm young man he had hesitated to stop.
"…From today on, you won't just be a security captain," the man had said confidently.
"I'm bringing technology that can double Stark Industries' market value."
At the time, Happy had thought it was bravado.
Now, his pulse quickened.
Tony suddenly asked, "What did you do before this job?"
"Professional boxing, sir."
"Good." Tony nodded. "You drive?"
"Yes, sir."
Tony raised his glass and clinked it against Happy's.
"Then congratulations. From today onward, you're my personal bodyguard and driver."
Happy blinked.
"Of course," Tony added lazily, pointing at a nearby cabinet, "if you don't want the job, there are bank cards in that drawer. Take a few. Passwords are written on the back."
The decision took exactly one second.
"I'll take the job," Happy said immediately. "When do I start, Mr. Stark?"
Tony smirked.
"Next second."
Happy laughed, drained his glass in one go—and instantly felt lightheaded. The past twenty-four hours felt unreal, as if he'd stepped into someone else's life.
Yesterday, he should've stopped Peter Parker.
Instead, one decision had rewritten his future.
"Jarvis," Tony said, patting Happy's shoulder as he turned away. "You know what to do."
Happy stiffened.
For half a second, he wondered if becoming Tony Stark's bodyguard required a name change.
Then the voice echoed through the room.
"Yes, sir. I've updated Happy Hogan's status to private bodyguard and driver. A residence in Harlem valued at 3.195 million dollars has been assigned, along with a vehicle appropriate to his position."
Happy stood frozen.
"A reminder, sir," Jarvis continued, "you have a guest arriving this afternoon. Shall I arrange a formal dinner?"
Snap.
"Make it classy," Tony replied.
Happy barely heard any of it.
A three-million-dollar house.
A luxury car.
He wasn't naïve. He knew full well that he wasn't worth that price.
What was priceless was the technology Peter Parker had brought.
As Happy followed Tony inside, he glanced around the private upper floor of Stark Tower, awe finally settling in. Passing the cabinet, curiosity slipped out before he could stop it.
"Mr. Stark… how much money is in there?"
Tony didn't even look up from his workbench.
"Sixty-something cards from different banks. Around forty million dollars total."
He paused.
"You just turned down forty million, Happy."
Happy chuckled and shook his head.
"I think I made the right choice."
"So do I," Tony replied.
After a moment, Happy asked what had been bothering him all along.
"What kind of technology did Peter Parker bring you yesterday?"
Tony's answer was simple.
"The kind that doubles Stark Industries' future."
He finally looked up.
"Go downstairs. Prepare to receive him. He should be here soon."
---
On the ground floor, as the elevator doors slid open, Happy nearly collided with a casually dressed man in a plaid shirt.
"Congratulations," the man said calmly.
Happy jumped.
"You already know?! I haven't told anyone!"
The man stepped into the elevator and pointed toward the reflective wall.
Happy looked—and realized his own grin hadn't faded once.
"…Is it that obvious?"
"You'll need better emotional control," the man replied. "That's part of the job."
The elevator stopped.
Without another word, Batman stepped out.
---
"How long did it take?" Batman asked the moment he entered the workshop.
Tony straightened.
"Jarvis?"
"Twenty-seven hours and one minute, sir."
Tony spread his hands.
"You win. Though I did spend three delightful hours with the current Vogue cover girl. So—how much do I owe you for consulting?"
"That depends," Batman said calmly, "on how far you think this technology can go."
Tony studied him.
"Fifty million dollars," he said. "For the semi-finished AI model."
He continued without pause.
"You gave me fragments on purpose. The model itself isn't the prize—the ideas are. I've already completed it. Stark Industries now possesses a fully operational artificial intelligence: JARVIS."
He smiled proudly.
"We are officially leading the world by an entire generation."
Batman interrupted him.
"One hundred million."
Tony's smile froze.
And for the first time that day, Tony Stark realized he wasn't the one setting the price.
-----------------------------
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