Hey guys! Sorry for not posting yesterday, had to go to the ER (not that serious) anyways here's a new chapter.
- Isopuff
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"AHHH!"
Pepper let out a sharp scream, her whole body jolting as if she'd just been zapped by high-voltage electricity. Her heart nearly launched itself out of her chest.
Sure, she knew Deadpool had eaten a Devil Fruit. She'd heard the stories. But no amount of knowledge or warning could've prepared her for the reality of this man's absolute chaos. Nothing in her life had trained her for this level of unpredictability. Her nerves were hanging by a thread.
"Hnnngh!"
Next to her, Tony Stark froze. His entire body locked up like he'd been flash-frozen on the spot. His back went ramrod straight, muscles clenched, eyes wide. The shock hit him on a cellular level, and a chill raced down his spine like ice water.
And then—
*BANG!*
Another gunshot rang out.
The bullet slammed into Deadpool's face and bounced off like it hit rubber. It slid right off his skin with an almost comical *plink*, ricocheted across the room, and punched a perfect hole through the edge of a nearby table.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Tony stared at the splintered table, completely floored. His brain scrambled to keep up with what he'd just seen.
Someone had just shot themselves in the face... and walked away without a scratch. If anyone else had told him this story, he would've laughed them out of the room. He would've chalked it up to camera tricks or a drug-induced hallucination. But now, having witnessed it firsthand?
There was no denying it.
This was real.
And the worst part? None of it made any scientific sense.
Tony Stark, the man who could explain arc reactors, energy manipulation, and ballistic trajectories in his sleep, had absolutely nothing. No equations. No theories. No clever loopholes to hide behind.
None of his expertise in physics, engineering, or human biology could explain how someone could take a bullet to the face and brush it off like a mosquito bite.
'Was this... really the power of a Devil Fruit?'
His logical mind screamed no. 'It had to be something else, some kind of experimental tech, synthetic armor, mutant gene therapy, or something.' But deep down, Tony could feel his skepticism starting to crack.
He'd always lived by facts, evidence, and cold, hard data. He trusted what he could build, test, and measure.
But now?
Pepper's floating, healing bubbles. Hope literally phasing through solid walls. Deadpool brushing off headshots like it was Tuesday. This wasn't just bleeding-edge technology. It wasn't science, as he knew it.
This was something else. Something beyond.
Tony took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. A decision formed in his mind quietly but with the certainty of a man who knew when it was time to stop doubting and start investigating.
"Looks like... I have to visit that Devil Fruit shop." His voice was calm, but there was weight behind the words.
Initially, he'd planned on going just to prove a point. To expose whatever scam artist had conned Pepper and Happy into believing this whole Devil Fruit nonsense. He wanted to tear back the curtain and show the world the trick.
But now?
Now, he wasn't so sure it was a trick.
And for the first time in a long time, Tony Stark found himself standing at the edge of the unknown, with curiosity burning brighter than disbelief.
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After taking a short break at the temporary command post to rest and get their bearings, the team didn't stick around for long. Agent Coulson assigned a small cleanup crew to stay behind and handle post-op procedures—locking down the site, debriefing personnel, and securing evidence. The rest, including Tony, boarded a Quinjet for the long flight back.
Roughly twelve hours later, the jet touched down at one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secure facilities. There, Hope, Deadpool, Fisk, and the other Devil Fruit users said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.
As for Tony? He didn't even hesitate. While most people would've gone straight home or checked into a hospital after everything he'd just endured, Tony made a direct line for Stark Industries.
And the moment his car rolled up to the building's front plaza, he saw it...
Chaos.
Executives, employees, media crews, it was a sea of movement and noise. Cameras flashed from every direction. Reporters were swarming like sharks who smelled blood. You could barely make out the pavement beneath the chaos of camera tripods, microphones, and overpriced designer shoes. It looked more like Times Square on New Year's Eve than a corporate headquarters.
Pepper glanced at him inside the car, eyebrows furrowed with concern as they pulled into the quieter underground garage. "You know, Tony... you really don't have to do this today," she said gently. "You can take a few days off. No one's going to blame you."
Her voice was calm, but behind it was confusion. This wasn't the Tony Stark she was used to. The man beside her, exhausted, healing from captivity, was rushing back to the office like his life depended on it.
This was the same Tony who used to disappear for weeks at a time, who regularly ghosted meetings and pushed all his responsibilities onto her plate with a wink and a bottle of scotch. That guy suddenly wanted to be hands-on?
What alternate dimension had she stepped into?
But Tony's expression was unreadable. He was focused. Calm, but not casual. There was a weight in his voice when he finally responded.
"No, Pep. I need to be here. Now."
He looked at her seriously, his voice lower, more grounded. "Ever since I got trapped in that cave, this has been sitting heavy on me. I couldn't stop thinking about it." His words hung in the air for a second.
"There were moments in there… I didn't think I was getting out," he admitted. "And during those moments, I made myself a promise: If I did survive... things were going to change."
There wasn't an ounce of bravado in his voice. Just quiet certainty.
Pepper didn't fully understand what kind of change he was talking about, but she recognized that look in his eyes. It was the look of a man who had just crossed a line in the sand and wasn't turning back.
No argument was going to sway him now.
"So," she asked, matching his seriousness, "what's the plan?"
Tony met her gaze.
"I'm holding a press conference."
She blinked. "Right now?"
"Right now," he said without hesitation.
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Home of The Devil Fruits
On the shop's old TV, screen flickering and colors slightly washed out, Tony Stark appeared, seated before a cluster of microphones. Bandages still clung to his face, a sharp suit pressed over his bruises, but the real transformation was in his eyes. This wasn't the same man who'd once thrown parties on yachts or strutted across red carpets. No, this was a man who'd seen something… and couldn't unsee it.
"I watched young soldiers die, killed by weapons I designed to protect them," Tony said, his voice steady but heavy. "And it hit me: I've become part of a system that refuses to take responsibility."
He took a breath, looked directly at the cameras, and continued.
"My eyes are open now. And I know I can't go back to how things were. I'm capable of more than just building weapons."
Then came the announcement that shook half the planet.
"Effective immediately, I am shutting down Stark Industries' weapons manufacturing division until we figure out a better path forward."
And just like that, a multi-billion-dollar arm of his empire was gone. No board vote. No shareholder input. Just one man making the call.
Watching from behind the Devil Fruit shop counter, Rosh let out a low whistle. "Classic Tony Stark," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "This guy really never does anything halfway."
He'd seen the movie version, of course, more than once. But seeing it play out live on the news? It hit completely differently.
This wasn't just a PR stunt or a corporate reshuffling. This was Stark Industries, the single largest weapons manufacturer in the Western Hemisphere. A company tied to every corner of the global defense network. And Tony had just pulled the plug.
No warning. No backroom deals. No safety net.
If it wasn't the boldest, most reckless trust-fund billionaire move ever made, Rosh didn't know what was. It was pure, unfiltered Tony Stark, reckless, dramatic, and absolutely serious.
Still, for all the showboating, Rosh had to admit: Stark had the brains and the bank account to back up every word.
And now that the curtain had risen on his post-cave life, the "Iron Man" era was officially underway. Heroes were entering the stage, one by one.
Which left Rosh wondering...
'What happens when Devil Fruits are added to the mix?'
Superpowers were already crazy enough. But now? With Devil Fruit abilities on the table? The ripple effect across this world of heroes was going to be massive.
He leaned back in his chair, already imagining the chaos and the potential.
*Ding!*
The sudden chime of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. Rosh glanced at the screen.
A new message had arrived, along with a transaction notification.
Incoming Transfer: $500,000.00 USD
Right below it was a short message:
"The deposit's been made. I'll get the gold together as soon as possible. Please keep the Clear-Clear Fruit safe for me."
No name. No fancy signature. Just an untraceable number. But Rosh already knew exactly who sent it.
The Punisher.
Rosh let out a low chuckle, raising an eyebrow at the screen. "Damn. The guy doesn't waste a second, does he?"
It hadn't even been that long since they'd spoken, and Frank Castle had already wired half a million dollars just like that.
No haggling. No excuses. Just action.
Rosh put the phone down, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Things were starting to get interesting.
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Next Chapter: A New Customer and the Rise of Zoan-Type Fruits
Next Next Chapter: Marvel's New Heroine
Next Next Next Chapter: Hydra's Plan
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