[Brain Storage Area]
[Image Collection Area]
[True Female Lead: Wanda]
[Don't Bash Black Widow]
[The red flag stands at home, colorful flags fly outside]
[Character templates only inherit superpowers. Unless otherwise stated, they do not inherit the original character's personality, memories, experience, or skills.]
[Pre-reading note: The protagonist is a somewhat moral—but not very—scoundrel. He plays around a lot, loves making "friends," and frequently maintains those friendships through "friendly matches." If you don't like that, feel free to exit.]
…
United States, Las Vegas. The venue for this year's highest honor award ceremony.
Colonel James Rhodes, dressed in full military uniform, stood at the podium introducing the most important guest of the evening. The audience below consisted entirely of military brass, government officials, business magnates—and their impeccably dressed companions.
"Tony Stark — visionary, genius, patriot."
"From a young age, as the son of legendary weapons developer Howard Stark, he quickly drew attention for his extraordinary intellect."
"At age four, he built his first circuit board. At six, he constructed his first engine. At seventeen, he graduated summa cum laude from MIT."
"After his father's passing, Howard's lifelong friend and partner, Obadiah Stane, stepped in to run Stark Industries."
"Until, at twenty-one, Tony Stark returned to the company and became CEO of Stark Industries, inheriting control of a global weapons empire."
"He ushered his father's legacy into a new era—developing intelligent weapons systems, advanced mechanical technologies, and satellite-guided strike capabilities."
"Today, Tony Stark has reshaped the weapons industry. He safeguards American freedom and protects national interests across the globe."
A pause.
Thunderous applause filled the hall.
Colonel Rhodes continued:
"As Stark Industries' liaison to the U.S. military, I've had the honor of working alongside a true patriot. He is both my mentor and my friend."
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to present this year's highest honor award to Mr. Tony Stark!"
Applause erupted once more.
But when it came time for the recipient to take the stage, Tony Stark was nowhere to be seen.
"Tony?"
Holding the trophy, Rhodes scanned the room, only to awkwardly turn his gaze toward a round table at the center of the hall—occupied by just two men.
Locking eyes with Rhodes, Obadiah Stane began to rise, prepared to accept the award on Tony's behalf.
But the young man seated across from him stood up first and strode confidently toward the stage.
Obadiah, who had barely lifted himself two and a half centimeters off his chair, had no choice but to sit back down, forcing a tight smile as he watched the newcomer accept the trophy.
As the young man stepped onto the stage—
A wave of astonished murmurs rippled through the audience.
The reason was simple.
Leon Stark was devastatingly handsome.
Roguish. Effortlessly cool.
Beneath his relaxed, mature exterior lingered the poise of someone accustomed to power. A slight curl at the corner of his lips was enough to radiate undeniable charisma.
He was Tony Stark's twin brother.
And the protagonist of our story — Leon Stark.
Perhaps because they were fraternal twins, the Stark brothers were far from identical. In fact, many would argue Leon was far more handsome than Tony.
As the younger son of the Stark family, Leon was infamous among America's elite circles—a wealthy playboy who did nothing but indulge in pleasure.
Which was precisely why Rhodes hadn't mentioned him earlier.
Aside from a dangerously attractive face and a well-maintained physique—kept in shape solely to ensure he could continue "making friends" without issue—
Leon was, by most standards, useless.
He was so rich that money was the only thing he didn't lack.
If Tony hadn't frozen his bank accounts—worried that Leon might literally exhaust himself to death after seven straight days of "social activity"—and forced him to attend the ceremony as a substitute, Leon wouldn't have bothered showing up.
Why attend an awards ceremony when "making friends" was so much more enjoyable?
"Oh, thank God. Thanks for saving me, Leon. I was about two seconds away from dying of embarrassment," Rhodes muttered in relief.
"My pleasure, Rhodey."
Leon grinned, then turned to face the audience. Holding the trophy casually, he examined it with exaggerated appreciation.
"Oh~ this damn thing is beautiful."
Applause burst forth instantly.
Such was the influence of Stark Industries.
Leon could've cursed outright and still received applause.
He gestured for quiet, and the hall quickly settled.
"Ha, thank you, everyone."
"Clearly, I'm not my brother. But if I were him, I'd tell you how honored and delighted I am to receive this award."
"As you all know, Tony's greatest strength—and his greatest flaw—is that once he starts working, he forgets to eat and sleep…"
Leon spoke effortlessly, praising his brother without so much as a draft.
Meanwhile—
Tony Stark was, indeed, neglecting food and sleep.
At a nearby casino.
After the ceremony ended, Rhodes and Leon went straight to find him.
He was in the middle of shooting dice with a young model.
"I can't believe you stood me up just to party with models!" Rhodes complained. "They told me you'd be honored to receive an award from me…"
"Of course. I'm deeply honored to receive an award from Colonel Rhodes," Tony recited dryly.
His gaze shifted toward Leon—who now had a date of his own and had just shoved Tony's remaining chips all-in across the table.
"So," Tony smirked, "where's my little trophy, Leon?"
"Gifted it."
Leon pointed to the model in his arms, who was currently trying very hard to balance the trophy against her chest.
Ever the gentleman, Leon adjusted it helpfully when gravity began to intervene.
"Feels pretty solid."
Tony shrugged with a grin. It wasn't entirely clear whether he meant the trophy or the woman.
"I give up on you two," Rhodes muttered, covering his face—though the two-and-a-half-centimeter gap between his fingers suggested he wasn't that unwilling to watch.
The Stark brothers exchanged a knowing smile.
Behind them, Happy Hogan—large, solidly built, and unfailingly loyal—kept a vigilant eye on their surroundings, performing his duties as chauffeur and bodyguard with professional seriousness.
They partied from 8 p.m. to 1 a.m.
When it finally broke up, Rhodes reminded Tony repeatedly, "You're demonstrating your latest weapons system to the military tomorrow. Don't be late."
"Yeah, yeah."
Tony waved him off, then glanced at Leon—who, despite having already gone three rounds earlier, was somehow still ordering takeout to bring home.
"Leon, why don't you go in my place? You wouldn't want me to—"
"Don't you dare."
Leon cut him off immediately.
"If you freeze my accounts again, don't blame me if I come at you with a knife one night. Pepper couldn't stop me—I mean it."
"Fair enough."
Tony shrugged. "You still don't understand the art of explosions, Leon."
"Art of explosions?" Leon rolled his eyes. "Let one of our own missiles explode next to you and see how artistic it feels."
Outside the hotel—
Escorted by Happy and a team of security, the brothers prepared to get into their car.
Just then, a blonde woman approached them.
She wore an elegant black business suit, sheer stockings, and carried herself with composed, mature confidence.
Leon's eyes lit up instantly.