Without other companies supporting the iOS ecosystem, it would be nothing more than an empty shell. Was Apple supposed to develop every single application on its own?
From something as simple as a video player to complex software like browsers, social platforms, and large-scale games—could one company realistically handle it all, and still match the quality of specialized developers?
Of course not.
And without those applications, what value would the system even have?
If you turned on your computer only to find no games to play, no browser to surf the web, no videos to watch, and no way to connect with others—what would be the point of using that system at all?
…
This was precisely how Tony Stark saw things.
In his view, even if Stark Industries and Umbrella Corporation were competitors, that didn't mean they couldn't collaborate.
After all, Umbrella's predecessor—Oscorp—had only truly clashed with Stark Industries in the military sector, and even that was just one part of a much broader business portfolio. Now that Stark Industries had shut down its weapons division and was pivoting toward clean energy, the conflict between them had largely dissolved.
One ruled the East Coast.
The other dominated the West.
There was no reason they couldn't work together.
"Listen," Tony said, his tone persuasive yet confident, "Umbrella has limitless potential. But with Stark Industries behind you, your growth—and your profits—will accelerate dramatically."
He gestured lightly, as if laying out an obvious truth.
"We can provide equipment, personnel, distribution channels, even connections. With my help, what would take you five years could be done in two."
A slight smirk tugged at his lips.
"You've already secured your place as the future world's richest man. So why not take that seat now?"
Since stepping away from the weapons business, Tony had developed a newfound enthusiasm for saving lives instead of ending them.
Peter listened quietly.
And didn't refuse.
Why would he?
From Tony's perspective, this was an investment—a mutually beneficial deal.
But from Peter's point of view?
He was getting the better end of the bargain.
The regenerative serum, for all its revolutionary potential, couldn't be mass-produced overnight.
There was no way it could suddenly appear in hospitals and pharmacies like cold medicine.
That was unrealistic.
The three samples Peter had taken earlier were still laboratory-grade products. Their production cost alone made large-scale distribution impossible.
And more importantly—
You couldn't run a global supply chain with a lab.
Where was he supposed to find assembly-line workers with Curt Connors' level of expertise?
He couldn't.
Even if Connors worked day and night without rest, he could only produce, at most, ten doses a day.
Ten.
Even if each dose sold for a million dollars, that was only ten million in revenue—before accounting for costs.
And those costs were enormous.
The biological materials alone—various organisms cultivated as growth mediums—required time, effort, and resources. The lab equipment suffered constant wear and tear, with individual machines costing millions.
If he tried to scale using current methods—
He wouldn't just fail to profit.
He'd bleed money.
The only viable path forward was optimization.
Refinement.
Mass production.
Once the technology matured enough to enter a production line, everything would change.
At ten thousand dollars per dose—roughly seventy thousand yuan—it would still be expensive, but within reach for ordinary families willing to sacrifice.
In return?
A restored limb.
A saved life.
A family's breadwinner brought back.
The value was immeasurable.
But getting there required more than just research.
It meant building production infrastructure, establishing distribution networks, and confronting industries that would inevitably be threatened—prosthetics manufacturers, pharmaceutical giants…
Someone had to take on that burden.
And right now, Peter was essentially sitting on a fruit tree.
A very special one.
It bore only a few fruits each year—but those fruits were priceless.
Everyone wanted a piece.
Then along came Tony Stark—
Offering to water the tree, fertilize it, set up a market stall, and drive away anyone trying to steal it…
All in exchange for a share of the profits.
Was that a good deal?
Of course it was.
Let Tony handle the dirty work.
Peter would sit back and collect the rewards.
Anyone who refused such an arrangement would be a fool.
"Twenty percent," Peter said calmly.
Tony scoffed immediately. "That's outrageous. At least forty."
"Ten percent of Stark Industries' shares," Peter countered smoothly. "In exchange, I'll give you twenty-five percent."
Their eyes locked.
Neither willing to yield.
This wasn't just negotiation.
It was a battle involving hundreds of billions of dollars.
Tony narrowed his eyes.
"Seven percent of Stark Industries," he said slowly, "for thirty percent of the profits. And… I'll personally give you a suit of Iron Man armor."
He had played his last card.
Stark Industries had no foundation in biotechnology or medicine, which put him at a disadvantage. His leverage was limited to infrastructure, resources, and advanced engineering.
Peter didn't even hesitate.
"You think your armor is something special?" he said flatly.
A faint smile appeared.
"Believe it or not, I could find someone here—right now—who can build an Iron Man suit."
Tony's expression froze.
Because—
As absurd as it sounded—
It wasn't entirely impossible.
The Iron Man armor was decades ahead of its time, far beyond anything the world could replicate.
Even the Green Goblin armor inherited from Oscorp would become outdated within twenty years.
But here—
In this very place—
There really was someone capable of building one.
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T/N:
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