Tony Stark's attention was completely locked onto a woman across the banquet hall.
The red dress clung to her curves perfectly, the fabric shifting subtly with every step she took. Each movement sent the hem swaying just enough to draw the eye, and the sharp rhythm of her crystal heels tapping against the floor seemed to sync with his heartbeat.
Her face carried a refined elegance, poised and confident, but there was something else hidden beneath it—a faint, teasing allure in her gaze. At one point, she seemed to glance his way, her brows lifting just slightly, almost like an invitation.
Stark's eyes lit up.
Damn.
She was far more captivating than any glossy magazine photo could ever capture.
He straightened his jacket, adjusting his posture as he prepared to walk over.
And then—
Someone stepped directly into his path.
"Hey, you're Tony Stark, right?" Rex said with a bright grin. "Big fan. You look even better in person."
Stark paused for half a second.
Normally, he wouldn't care about praise from strangers, but the man in front of him—tall, striking, confident—was clearly not ordinary. Being recognized by someone like that carried a different weight.
He shrugged lightly. "I'd love to compliment your taste, but I've got somewhere to be, so if you could just—"
"Well," Rex cut in casually, glancing him up and down, "you're a lot shorter than I expected. You only come up to about… my chin."
Stark blinked.
"…What?"
"Hey, don't get mad," Rex added quickly, his tone suddenly earnest. "Whatever I do next, don't get mad. After all… I'm your idol."
Stark frowned, completely thrown off.
"…What are you even—"
"Oh my God!" Rex suddenly shouted, his voice loud enough to cut through the entire hall. "I can't believe it! You're actually racist! I looked up to you, and this is how you treat me, Mr. Tony Stark?!"
The entire banquet froze.
Conversations died instantly as heads turned in unison toward them.
Right on cue, David slipped into position beside Marcus, the device already in his hand as he began the infiltration.
Stark stood there, stunned.
"…What did I say?"
With his back to the crowd, Rex shot him a quick wink and mouthed a silent apology.
Then he raised his voice again.
"You can't say things like that! Calling me stupid, saying I talk too loud—how could you, Mr. Stark?!"
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd.
Nearby, a dark-skinned man paused mid-motion, eyebrows lifting slightly, as if wondering whether he had somehow become part of the situation.
Stark's expression darkened.
Especially when he noticed the woman in red staring at him, her lips parted slightly in surprise.
That did it.
He stepped forward, grabbing Rex by the collar.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Stark snapped. "I didn't say any of that. Are you trying to frame me?"
They were close now.
Very close.
Rex leaned in slightly and whispered under his breath, "I apologized already. Don't take it personally."
Then he shouted again.
"Please don't hit me! I'm scared! Somebody help!"
The room erupted.
"Stark, calm down—"
"Let him go—"
Voices overlapped as the tension escalated.
Off to the side, the loud real estate developer leaned toward Stark, covering his mouth as he whispered something that only made things worse.
"Even if you think that way," he muttered, "you can't say it out loud…"
The dark-skinned man nearby immediately turned, glaring.
"What exactly are you saying?"
The developer stiffened, forcing a smile. "No, no, I have plenty of… friends…"
Before things could spiral further, Happy finally rushed over from the dessert area, crumbs still on his suit.
He had no idea what was happening.
But he saw Stark.
And Stark looked furious.
That was enough.
"Hey!" Happy shouted, pointing dramatically. "Let go of Tony Stark!"
Then he charged.
Leaping forward with surprising enthusiasm—if not grace—his body arcing through the air like an overconfident eagle.
Gasps echoed through the hall.
Some were shocked by the escalating situation.
Others… were impressed in a very different way.
Rex smiled faintly.
With one smooth motion, he dragged Stark back two steps.
The trajectory shifted.
Happy, who had been aiming for Rex, was now on a direct collision course with Stark.
Stark realized it instantly and tried to move.
But he couldn't.
Because the one being restrained… wasn't Rex.
It was him.
The grip on his body was like iron, completely unbreakable.
For a brief moment, something like panic flashed across his face.
Then, at the last second—
Rex shifted.
He pulled Stark aside just enough.
"THUD!"
Happy crashed into the floor, missing entirely.
Rex glanced toward David, who gave a subtle nod.
Done.
He laughed, throwing an arm casually around Stark's shoulders and giving his chest a light pat.
"Relax," he said loudly. "We're friends. Just messing around. Sorry if we scared anyone."
Stark stood stiffly in his grasp, his expression unreadable.
Happy pushed himself up from the floor, dazed.
He blinked at the scene, confusion written all over his face.
"…Tony?" he asked cautiously. "You okay? If you're being held hostage, blink."
Stark responded with a slow, deliberate eye roll.
Happy froze.
…Was that a signal?
The crowd, seeing no further conflict, gradually dispersed, chalking it up as an awkward misunderstanding.
Rex gave Stark one last pat.
"See you around," he said casually. "And hey—your bodyguard's got guts. Maybe next time, get him some strategy too."
Then he turned and walked away.
Stark watched him go, silent, his fists clenched at his sides.
No one could tell what he was thinking.
Rex met up with David, and the two headed for the exit.
"Ding—"
The elevator doors opened.
But instead of a polite attendant—
A man stood inside.
Black leather coat.
Shotgun in hand.
Blade.
Rex's eyes narrowed instantly.
Before he could process it—
The gun came up.
He grabbed David and yanked him aside.
"BOOM!"
The shotgun roared like thunder, the blast tearing through the air with brutal force.
Heat brushed past Rex's face.
"Seriously?" he muttered. "You don't hold back, do you?"
Blade stepped forward, firing again, the entire banquet collapsing into chaos.
People screamed.
Security rushed in.
Everything fell apart.
But Blade didn't shoot randomly.
His target was clear.
Marcus.
The vampire elder moved fast, weaving through the crowd, using people as shields whenever possible. Even with Blade's precision, taking him down wasn't easy.
Across the hall, Stark felt like his luck had officially run out.
First, he got dragged into a ridiculous public scene.
Now, someone with a shotgun was tearing through a high-profile event.
And worst of all—
Marcus was coming straight at him.
Trying to use him as cover.
Happy jumped in front of him instinctively.
Then—
Got blown backward.
Stark's heart dropped as Marcus closed in.
And then—
A bottle flew.
Fast.
Precise.
It smashed toward Marcus's head, forcing him to dodge sideways.
That moment was enough.
Blade's shots followed immediately, forcing Marcus to abandon the hostage attempt.
He pivoted sharply and leapt through a nearby window.
Blade didn't hesitate.
He went after him.
Stark stood there, breathing hard, then turned toward the direction the bottle had come from.
Rex.
The same man from before.
He gave Stark a casual, almost playful salute.
Stark's expression shifted, something complicated flickering in his eyes.
Around them, the crowd scrambled to evacuate.
Security took over, directing people out.
Rex made his decision instantly.
Follow Blade.
If Frost's plan was really starting, then sticking with Blade meant staying close to the real action—and the real targets.
He told David to get out first.
Then he moved toward the window.
No one noticed.
With a smooth motion, he pulled out a sleek, silver-white mask—something far more refined, almost mechanical in design—and slipped it over his face.
Just as he was about to jump—
He paused.
Someone was watching him.
He turned.
Through the chaos, Stark stood still, eyes locked onto him, shock lingering in his gaze.
Rex tilted his head slightly.
Then raised a finger to his lips.
Silent.
Next, his thumb slid across his throat.
Don't talk.
Then, without another word—
He climbed out the window.
By the time Stark reached it, all he saw was a figure moving swiftly down the structure, disappearing into the night below.
....
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