The next day, Bruce Lee once again visited Robert's estate. The two of them drove to the Lee family's private airport on the outskirts of San Francisco and boarded a private jet bound for Los Angeles.
The banquet was being held in a seaside castle not far from San Pedro Bay, where Hollywood is located. Clearly, this was the perfect place to throw a party.
Because the organizers wanted to use this event to signal a connection between the Los Angeles financial conglomerates and Stark Industries, they invited a large number of journalists for formal coverage.
As a result, before the banquet even began, the event turned into a red-carpet fashion show.
A flood of Hollywood stars, both male and female, vied for attention in front of the castle's entrance, their smiles seemingly sincere but full of veiled rivalry.
"Most of the people here don't even have invitations; they're just here to ride the wave of publicity," Bruce Lee explained with a smile as they sat in the car. "Any banquet open to the public inevitably attracts these fame-chasers."
"This really is Vanity Fair," Bruce added with a wistful expression that resembled "Jack Ma's regretful face after creating Alibaba."
Over the past five years, Robert had attended many such banquets, both wild and tame. Previously, his android stand-ins had taken his place, but now he was going in person—although he had no intention of contacting any of his old female companions.
The two arrived in a discreet luxury car at the castle's side entrance, the true entry point for honored guests.
After the showy crowd at the main gate finished their little performance, most of them were turned away. Only a few invited celebrities who were willing to stay could join the real party. The rest, even if they wanted to, simply didn't have the qualifications.
But tonight, there was an exception—Tony Stark. Although he knew the rules, he still chose to make a dazzling entrance under the spotlights.
That was just who he was.
The organizers had no choice but to bring the guests to the front to greet him.
Bruce Lee and Robert were among those welcoming the arrivals.
In the Marvel Universe—especially this version that began with Iron Man—Stark Industries held a pivotal position.
Unlike reality, in this world Stark Industries had practically monopolized the U.S. military's high-end weapons supply. Thanks to the genius of Howard Stark and Tony Stark, their dominance in weapons manufacturing was unshakable.
This was why, when Tony announced the closure of Stark Industries' weapons division, its stock price plummeted as if one of the top ten American conglomerates had suddenly declared bankruptcy.
The California-based financial groups could only plaster on smiles and try to curry favor with Tony Stark. Even Bruce Lee wanted to get closer—but unfortunately, he didn't even have the standing to get near the front row.
Though his family wealth was in the tens of billions, it had been built over generations, and Bruce himself didn't have as much liquid capital as Robert.
Compared to his namesake from next door, this Bruce really did look a bit poor.
Still, Bruce and Robert's rare Asian faces caught Tony Stark's attention.
"Wow, looks like California is still pretty progressive. After that news the other day, I was starting to think people of color were afraid to even go outside," Tony said with a smirk, extending his hand to Robert.
This was their first meeting—but it was clear it wouldn't be their last.
Though Tony was still a playboy at this stage, he wasn't racist, especially compared to the arrogant old-money elites.
"Hello, I'm Robert," Robert said, shaking his hand. "Japanese-Singaporian. Shipping magnate."
This was one of Robert's long-maintained cover identities.
"For some reason, you look more like a scientist to me," Tony commented, eyeing Robert's head.
Robert didn't flinch, half-joking: "Actually, I am a scientist. I specialize in life sciences."
The men who knew Robert all exchanged knowing smiles.
Recognizing a fellow kindred spirit, Tony instantly grew intrigued.
"Really? Now I'm dying to see what you've been working on," Tony said before moving on to greet other guests.
Robert, however, watched his retreating figure intently.
"Cursed with knowledge… can he really sense his own kind?"
"Sigh…" Bruce's voice snapped Robert out of his thoughts. "Tony Stark actually came over to greet you."
"What's wrong?" Robert teased with a grin. "Jealous?"
"Not really. It's not like I run the family business anyway," Bruce muttered with a trace of bitterness.
Playboys wanted to prove themselves too!
With Tony Stark's arrival, the banquet officially began. Several local financial leaders gave brief speeches, followed by a Broadway orchestra performance, and soon the guests were dancing.
By midnight, the organizers politely cleared the hall. Journalists and celebrities without inner-circle invitations were ushered out.
Once the outsiders were gone, the atmosphere changed completely.
The lights dimmed, masks were put on, and a troupe of young, stunning dancers took the stage. Clothing slowly slipped away.
Wearing a mask of his own, Robert carried a bronze censer to the center of the hall and dropped in a pill of "I-Love-One-Log."
At once, an intoxicating fragrance filled the air.
The mood in the room exploded.
"Old Lin, I'm ditching you," Bruce said, adrenaline surging as he wrapped his arms around two gorgeous women and disappeared into a side room.
"Wow, looks like your research really works," Tony Stark said with a grin behind his mask. "Next week I'm throwing a party in New York. You have to come."
"Sure," Robert replied with a smile.
As the drug's effects kicked in, the party turned wilder than anything in Eyes Wide Shut.
Robert didn't hold back—he slung an Amber Heard lookalike over one arm and an Emma Roberts doppelgänger over the other, heading for a bedroom.
He still had work to do tonight, so he needed to conserve his strength—otherwise he'd be aiming for at least five conquests.
With his current stamina, the two blondes quickly surrendered and passed out.
To be safe, Robert even used a pressure-point technique to keep them asleep.
Yes, the very same one Drew used on Mark.
He then summoned his little demon, stepped into his mysterious pocket dimension, and emerged moments later—his appearance and body altered by his "Life Reversion" technique. Dressed in black, he used Moonwalk to leap away from the castle.
By now, the night was deep.
Outside the castle, a military vehicle was parked with two Black men inside.
"Colonel Rhodey, are we really going to wait out here till morning?" asked Will Fortson, a newly promoted captain, looking miserable.
Listening to the sounds of debauchery coming from the castle while freezing in the cold? Pure torture.
"We don't have invitations, so we can't get in," replied James Rupert Rhodes—better known as "Rhodey," the future War Machine—equally frustrated.
"Then let's just head back to the city. At least we could get a hotel," Will suggested.
"No. If we don't catch Tony here, who knows where he'll fly off to in the morning," Rhodey said, well aware of his friend's habits.
"But…"
"No buts. Don't forget you're an Air Force officer!"
Rhodey's tone was firm. "If you can't get Tony to design you a multi-environment weapon system, General Ross will find another excuse to transfer you."
"Honestly… a transfer doesn't sound so bad," Will muttered, still too new to understand the brutal politics of the U.S. military.
"If you want to go after that green monster, I can put in a request," Rhodey replied dryly.
"…Uh," Will stammered, remembering the horrifying scene from yesterday. "I was just kidding."
And so, War Machine—James "Rhodey" Rhodes—kept his silent vigil.
(End of Chapter)