"Tony Stark?"
In the gallery, Aaron was sipping a cup of freshly brewed black tea. He looked up at Dalamandis, who was wearing a suit, and almost spat out his tea.
"I have to ask, you're a burly, muscular man, and you're wearing such a small suit?"
Dalamandis gave a helpless smile. "My Lord, this outfit is not very comfortable for me!"
"Just stay by my side for now. As for the other Specters, you can do whatever you want. The Underworld Army won't need to be mobilized for a while."
The Underworld Army?
Does my Lord want to re-form Hades' army and conquer the world?
"Don't get any ideas," Aaron said, reading his thoughts. "I don't have much desire to conquer the world right now."
This world was too interesting. Although it was still based on the human model of development, he couldn't muster any desire to conquer it.
"Without those little Saint Warriors, a war just wouldn't be much fun."
Dalamandis nodded. "You're right, my Lord. Without the Saints, fighting is meaningless."
Tony's visit fell on the weekend. Aaron's gallery was only open on Saturdays and Sundays. Aaron wondered why his young friend Peter hadn't brought his girlfriend by lately. Could it be that after the kid was bitten by that spider, he's been too scared to come back?
The tormented Peter was terrified after suddenly gaining spider-like abilities. He wasn't born a superhero and was struggling to cope with the sudden change.
The gallery was located in the center of 33rd Street in Hell's Kitchen. Thanks to Aaron's hard work, its reputation had grown, and many people were drawn by his painting skills. Some of his ordinary paintings had even been bought by capitalists at high prices.
Hell's Kitchen was a notoriously dangerous place, ruled by gangsters and criminals who created constant chaos. But Aaron's gallery was the one place they all left alone.
As Tony and Pepper's car drove through the streets, their expressions soured. A high-flying capitalist like Tony wasn't accustomed to visiting places like this. He mused that only a weirdo like Aaron would choose to live here, a place that was apparently once run by a guy named Matt.
"A place like this exists in Manhattan?" Tony said, rolling up the car window. "Are we there yet?"
"We'll be there soon, Mr. Stark," the driver replied.
The gallery was on 33rd Street, and it took some time to get there from Stark Tower. Tony wasn't so crazy as to fly his Iron Man suit to a run-down place like this just to show off. Not unless someone paid him to.
When they finally arrived at the gallery, Tony's mood became very strange. He got out of the car and felt a unique, almost ethereal sensation upon entering.
"Are you Mr. Stark?" a burly man asked, walking toward them.
Tony was surprised. The gallery didn't seem to have any security cameras. If it did, J.A.R.V.I.S. would have notified him, but now he was just another wealthy man walking through the door. How could this man know his identity at a glance?
"Who are you?" Tony asked. Dalamandis was wearing an ill-fitting suit, and the massive muscles of his arms were still clearly visible.
"My Lord knows you're here and would like you to come to his studio for a moment," Dalamandis said.
"My Lord?"
Is this man a prince or something? I'm a lord, too! I'm Tony Stark!
Tony turned to Pepper. "Pepper, take a look around for me. If you see a painting you like, buy it to decorate the penthouse."
With that, Tony followed Dalamandis toward the most mysterious part of the gallery.
"Your Lord..." Tony tried to get some information from Dalamandis. He knew very little about Aaron, only that he was likely a superhuman who had caught a HYDRA operative from S.H.I.E.L.D.
"We're here," Dalamandis said, stopping in front of a door. He gestured for Tony to go in, then left.
Tony opened the door and walked inside. The room was filled with the pungent smell of paint. As he entered, he finally saw the studio's true form.
A man wearing a priest's robe sat in the center of the studio. The ceiling was a colorful masterpiece, painted to look like a starry sky. Floating around the studio were several small, angelic figures.
This is a painting! A lifelike painting!
"Iron Man?" The young man stood up slowly. "Welcome, Mr. Tony Stark."
(End of Chapter)
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