Chapter 19 Red Devil
"The first two times I called you, I just wanted to talk to you about this." Emma glanced at him irritably, "And look at you, the first time you hung up on me directly, and the second time you actually answered, but when I tried to ask you out to talk about it, you hung up right away."
Logan gave an awkward cough, his mind couldn't help but wonder if this matter with the Red Devil had anything to do with him hunting down the remnants of the MutantBrotherhood?
Feeling increasingly guilty the more he thought about it, he suddenly became righteous, "Who knew it was you? I never answer strange phone calls; what if it was an insurance salesperson?"
Emma was amused to the point of laughter by him and rolled her eyes, "Cut the chatter. I'm asking you, will you help or not?"
Logan didn't answer immediately, leaning back against the sofa while his fingertips gently tapped the armrest as he quickly calculated in his mind.
The teleportation ability of the Red Devil had quite high potential. Although it couldn't be considered Omega-level, it was still solid Alpha-level potential.
If he could absorb this ability, it would be much too convenient in the future whether running away or launching sneak attacks.
Not to mention that this fellow delivered himself to his doorstep and was an evildoer to boot; killing him wouldn't bring any psychological burden.
Besides, speaking of which, Emma could somehow be counted as one of his ex-girlfriends; she was pretty, wealthy, and their past relationship wasn't bad either.
Since she had come to his doorstep for help, he couldn't really stand by and watch her die.
"It's not that I won't help." Logan spoke leisurely, raising his eyes to look at Emma with a smile curving at the corner of his lips, "But I can't help for nothing, right?"
Emma raised an eyebrow, "What do you want? Money?"
"Vulgar." Logan scoffed, flicking his ash, "I'm not lacking money right now. How about this, once the matter is resolved, you accompany me for meals for a month, how does that sound?"
Emma was stunned for a moment before reacting, her face flushing slightly as she grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa and hurled it at him, "Logan! Have you no shame!"
"I'm joking." Logan caught the pillow with a smile, "Rest assured, for the sake of old acquaintances, I'll take care of this matter. As for the Red Devil, he's not such a difficult character to deal with."
Emma glared at him, but inwardly breathed a quiet sigh of relief. The reason she came to find Logan was firstly because she knew this fellow had great abilities, and secondly because she trusted him to keep his mouth shut.
The Red Devil's teleportation ability was too tricky. Although her own telepathy was not weak, the opponent was elusive and impossible for her to guard against.
Only a fellow like Logan with strong healing abilities and keen senses could keep him in check.
"He made an appointment to meet me tomorrow night at an abandoned warehouse by the dock." Emma put away her playful thoughts and said solemnly, "He said we'd discuss the terms face to face, and it didn't matter how many people I brought; he comes and goes as he pleases."
"Quite arrogant." Logan smiled, a trace of cold light flashing in the depths of his eyes, "Alright, I'll go with you tomorrow. You deal with him head-on while I hide in the dark. Wait for my signal then, and we'll catch him in our trap."
Emma nodded, but still felt a bit uneasy, "His teleportation is very fast, are you sure you can keep him here? In case he gets away, the trouble in the future will be huge."
"He won't escape." Logan said with certainty, "As long as he dares to show up, I have a way to make sure he can't leave."
He knew it clearly in his heart. Going head-to-head, if the Red Devil wanted to run, he really couldn't be stopped, but he had mental illusion abilities.
As long as he took advantage of the opponent's inattention to quietly launch a psychic intrusion, interfering with his perception and teleportation coordinates, by then this fellow would be meat on the chopping board, to be sliced however he wanted.
Of course, he didn't tell Emma this. When it comes to abilities, it's better to keep some hidden.
The two discussed the details a bit more, and then Emmastood up to take her leave.
When she walked to the door, she suddenly stopped, looked back at Logan, and spoke with a somewhat complicated tone, "Thanks, Logan."
"There's no need for thanks." Logan leaned against the wall, smiling mischievously, "If you really want to thank me, buy me a bottle of good wine later, 1982 Lafite."
Emma rolled her eyes, too lazy to bother with him, and walked away in her high heels without looking back.
Closing the door, the smile on Logan's face faded a bit. He walked to the window, watched Emma's car drive away, and gently rubbed his chin with his fingertips.
Red Devil... teleportation ability...
He licked his lips, a trace of anticipation flashing in his eyes.
This wave was a massive profit.
The next night, at the abandoned warehouse by the dock.
The night was heavy, and the sea breeze blew past with a salty, fishy smell, whipping up waste paper and dust on the ground.
Inside the warehouse, there was only a rickety chandelier, its dim yellow light flickering on and off, illuminating the floor covered everywhere with abandoned containers and rusty steel bars.
Emma was wearing a black tight-fitting leather outfit, standing in the center of the warehouse with her platinum long hair draped down, carrying a fierce edge amidst her cold beauty. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her face expressionless, while her eyes quietly scanned her surroundings.
Just as the appointed time arrived, a faint smell of sulfur suddenly permeated the air.
Accompanied by a soft sound of "puf", a red figure appeared without warning on the crossbeam of the warehouse.
That person had crimson skin, pointed ears, fangs, and dragged a pointed tail behind him—it was precisely the Red Devil Azazel. Squatting on the crossbeam, his yellow slit pupils stared at Emma below, letting out a hoarse, weird laugh.
"Miss Frost, you are very punctual. Did you bring the money?"
Emma raised her head and sneered, "Azazel, we are all old acquaintances here, is playing this trick meaningful? Just with that little bit of stuff in your hands, you think you can threaten me?"
"Whether it's useful or not, won't we know after trying?" The Red Devil's figure flickered, instantly appearing three meters away in front of Emma, his tail gently swaying as he spoke in a sinister tone, "Magneto is dead, the Brotherhood has dispersed, and Charles and his bunch are hypocritical. Mutant life isn't having it easy right now, Miss Frost, you are immensely wealthy, isn't it only right to relieve an old friend?"
"Relieve?" Emma scoffed, "You think you deserve it?"
"Emma Frost, don't be ungrateful! Do you really think I wouldn't dare touch you? Believe it or not, I'll expose all your dirty deeds right now and kill your company's shareholders one by one? I want to see if your empire can still hold up!"
His figure flickered left and right, constantly teleporting within the warehouse and leaving behind streaks of red afterimages, full of oppressive pressure.
Emma's heart tightened slightly, but she didn't show it at all on the surface, still maintaining a cold face as she parried with him.
She was waiting, waiting for Logan to make a move.
But the surroundings were dead silent, not even half a person's shadow was in sight.
This fellow... wouldn't stand me up, would he?
Emma couldn't help murmuring to herself in her heart.
Just as the Red Devil teleported behind her again and reached out to grab her shoulder, a sudden change occurred.
An invisible psychic force silently spread out, like a fine spider web, instantly enveloping the entire warehouse.
The Red Devil's movements paused abruptly.
He only felt a wave of dizziness in his head, and the scene before his eyes suddenly became blurry and distorted.
Clearly the previous second Emma was still right in front, but the next second countless figures of Emma appeared before his eyes, filling all directions.
He wanted to initiate teleportation, but his sense of coordinates in his brain had turned into a mess of paste, completely unable to distinguish north, south, east, or west.
"Who?!"
He roared harshly, his tail tensing up fiercely, his yellow pupils filled with shock and anger.
At this exact moment of his trance, a sharp sound of breaking wind assailed him from his left side.
Chapter 20 Teleportation Acquired
Red Devil instinctively wanted to teleport away, but the mental power tightly entangled his perception, causing his teleportation ability to lag by half a second.
Just this half second of time was already enough.
Logan's figure violently shot out from the shadow, like a lone wolf that had been crouching and waiting for a long time.
He stepped on the Bagua Step under his feet, his figure so fast that only a residual shadow remained, and the three Adamantium steel claws on his right hand all popped out, flashing a trace of cold light under the dim lighting.
This claw was fast and vicious, aiming straight for Red Devil's heart from behind.
Red Devil was scared out of his wits, trying his utmost to lean his body to the side. The steel claws brushed past his shoulder, tearing open a wound so deep the bone was visible, and fresh blood instantly gushed out.
"It's you!" Red Devil was both shocked and angry, recognizing Logan.
He had heard Raven say that it was this guy who killed Magneto, but he didn't expect the opponent to actually hide here, and even less did he expect the opponent to actually have mental abilities!
"Quite a fast reaction." Logan landed, shook off the blood droplets on his claws, and the corner of his mouth curved into a sneer, "Pity, still a bit too slow."
Red Devil covered the wound on his shoulder, his gaze gloomy enough to drip water.
He knew he had fallen today; the guy opposite him not only had a formidable physical body, but actually also had mental interference, specifically countering his teleportation.
Continuing to fight wouldn't bring any good, leaving first was the best policy!
As soon as the intention to retreat rose in his heart, his figure flickered and he was about to activate teleportation.
But the moment he mobilized his ability, a sharp pain struck his head again, and illusions arose everywhere.
Before his eyes, it was alternately the scene of Magneto's miserable death and countless steel claws stabbing towards him, and the coordinates of his teleportation were completely messed up.
"Mental ability... How could you have mental ability?!" Red Devil was shocked and suspicious, shouting out in a hoarse voice.
Logan couldn't be bothered to talk nonsense with him, taking advantage of his illness to take his life.
His figure rushed out once more, his left hand forming a fist, using the collapsing fist of Baji Quan, carrying the force of a thousand jun to fiercely smash towards Red Devil's face.
Red Devil barely dodged to the side, the fist flying past his cheek, and the resulting gale made his skin sting with pain.
Just as he wanted to counterattack, Logan's right claw had already swept across, with a tricky angle that sealed off all his retreats.
Clang——
In his haste, Red Devil crossed his arms to block. The skin of his arms was as hard as iron, but in front of Adamantium, it was still not enough.
The steel claws deeply cut into his arms, and the sound of bones shattering was clearly audible.
"Ah——!" Red Devil let out a miserable scream.
Under the excruciating pain, his mental defense line instantly loosened quite a bit.
Seizing the opportunity, Logan fully activated his mental illusions, pouring them all at once into his mind.
Red Devil's eyes instantly became hollow, his body stiffening in place, unable to move.
Right now!
Logan's gaze turned cold, pressing forward with his body, holding down Red Devil's head with his left hand, and raising his right steel claw high, aiming right at his heart, fiercely stabbing down.
Hiss——
The steel claws pierced through the chest without any obstruction, protruding from the back.
Red Devil's body twitched violently, his yellow pupils abruptly dilated, and large mouthfuls of fresh blood gushed out from his mouth.
He stared fixedly at Logan, his eyes full of unwillingness and disbelief, yet he could no longer utter a single word.
Logan pulled out the steel claws and casually flicked them.
Red Devil's body collapsed softly, slamming onto the ground and kicking up a puff of dust.
'Detected that killing the enemy dropped an x-factor, do you want to absorb it?'
The familiar prompt tone sounded in his mind, the corners of Logan's mouth curled upward, and he chose yes without hesitation.
The next second, a warm wave of power poured into his body, flowing through his blood vessels to his whole body.
He could clearly feel that his spatial perception was rapidly improving, as if a door had been added to his mind; with just a thought, he could cross space and appear anywhere within his perception range.
Teleportation ability, acquired!
He silently sensed it; currently, the teleportation ability was only Epsilon-class, and a single teleportation distance was no more than a few dozen meters, unable to transmit over long distances yet, but the potential was Alpha-level. As long as enough points were accumulated, sooner or later it could be upgraded to Red Devil's level, or even stronger.
He made a fortune.
Logan was in a great mood and couldn't help whistling.
He turned around and saw Emma standing not far away, looking at him with a puzzled expression on her face, her brows slightly furrowed, and her eyes full of doubt.
"When did you get psychic abilities?" Emma couldn't help asking, "I remember that in the past, besides healing and steel claws, you only had a bit more strength and sharper senses; you didn't have mental-type abilities at all."
Logan's heart skipped a beat, but his expression remained calm. He withdrew his steel claws, pulled out a cigar from his pocket, held it in his mouth, slowly lit it, and took a puff before vaguely saying, "Who told you I didn't? I just didn't have the chance to use it before."
Emma obviously didn't believe it, looking him up and down several times with her eyes full of suspicion: "Impossible. I've known you for so many years, don't I know how much you're worth? Besides, which Mutant suddenly acquires an extra ability acquired later on?"
She was an expert in telepathy and knew inside and out about the ability system of Mutants.
Except for a very few special cases, the vast majority of Mutants only had one ability in their entire lives.
For someone like Logan who already had a healing factor and super-strong physical fitness to magically gain a mental ability on top of that was simply unheard of.
"The World is so big, there are all sorts of wonders." Logangave a haha and refused to say more, "Alright, the person has been dealt with, and you're safe too. He won't come to trouble you anymore in the future."
Seeing that he refused to talk, Emma didn't pursue it further. Everyone had secrets, and she had them too.
Only the doubt in her heart grew deeper.
What on earth had this guy experienced in the past two years? The change was just too huge.
She walked over to Red Devil's corpse, lowered her head to take a look, and only after confirming that the other party was completely dead did she thoroughly heave a sigh of relief.
"With this guy dead, it saves quite a bit of trouble." Emmaraised her head and looked at Logan, "However, what should be done with his corpse? Just leave it lying here?"
"You find someone to handle it later." Logan gave her a look like she was an idiot and said, "This guy looks so abstract, are you afraid that others won't know a Mutantdied here?"
Emma nodded and made a phone call.
The two walked side by side out of the warehouse, the sea breeze blowing against their faces, carrying the coolness of the night.
Moonlight spilled onto the sea surface, sparkling.
"Thank you so much this time." Emma turned her head to look at him, her tone much softer than before, "Tell me, what thank-you gift do you want? As long as it's something I can do."
Logan turned his head, taking advantage of the moonlight to size up her exquisite profile, the corner of his mouth curving into a bad smile, "Really anything is okay?"
As soon as Emma saw this expression of his, she knew nothing good was coming out, and rolled her eyes at him, "Be serious."
"Very serious ah." Logan smiled and shrugged, "How about this, accompany me to a meal tomorrow, treat it as the thank-you gift. I'll pick the place, you pay."
Emma was stunned for a moment, then smiled.
Under the moonlight, her cold and glamorous brows and eyes softened quite a bit, unexpectedly possessing a breathtaking beauty.
"Alright." She agreed instantly, "Not to mention one meal, ten meals are fine."
Logan whistled, his mood becoming even better.
Ability acquired, a date with a beauty—spending a holiday like this was simply too comfortable.
Chapter 21: The Tacit Understanding Between Adults
The dinner was booked at a secluded private kitchen in Manhattan, hidden in the attic of an old building, with warm yellow light wrapping around the wood-colored tables and chairs, and the night view of the Hudson River visible outside the window.
When Emma arrived, Logan was already sitting by the window, not wearing formal attire, just a black shirt with two buttons open at the collar, cuffs casually rolled up to his forearms, biting on a cigar while looking at the menu. The lines of his profile were rugged, unexpectedly exuding a casual sexiness under the light.
"You're quite early." Emma pulled out a chair and sat down, taking off her jacket and draping it beside her, revealing the silk slip dress underneath, with delicate shoulder lines and deep clavicles, "I thought you'd be half an hour late."
"When a beauty treats, how dare I be late." Logan pushed the menu over with a smile at the corner of his mouth, "Order whatever you want, you're paying anyway."
Emma gave him a look, but didn't decline, lowering her head to flip through the menu.
The waiter came to take the order, and she familiarly named a few dishes and added a bottle of well-aged red wine.
After the waiter left, she raised her eyes to look at Logan, her fingertips gently tapping on the tabletop: "Seriously, regarding the Red Devil, thanks to you. This guy has been haunting me for a long time, and someone else really wouldn't be able to handle him."
"A small matter." Logan flicked his ash casually, "With just that little teleportation ability of his, bullying ordinary people is fine, but when he runs into a tough adversary, it's not enough."
Emma smiled with pursed lips: "The way you praise yourself is somewhat similar to Tony Stark."
"Don't smear me like that." Logan scoffed, "I'm much more low-key than him. That guy can't wait to carve the four words 'I am very awesome' on his forehead."
The two chatted desultorily, from the old scores back in the Hellfire Club to their respective lives now.
Emma talked about the annoying things in the company, while Logan complained about Tony immersing himself in the laboratory every day risking his life, and incidentally grumbled that someone always came looking for trouble during his vacation.
After three rounds of drinks, the atmosphere gradually changed.
The warm light fell on Emma's face, softening her usual cold and glamorous edges, the corners of her eyes tinged with a faint red, and her gaze towards Logan carried a hint of moisture.
Logan was never any sort of gentleman to begin with; his former girlfriend was pretty, and the atmosphere was just right, so there was no reason to put on airs.
He reached out, his fingertips gently brushing the back of her hand resting on the table.
Emma didn't dodge, instead looking up at him, her eyelashes trembling slightly.
"Are you full?" Logan's voice lowered a bit, carrying a slight hoversomeness soaked in smoke and alcohol, "If you're full, change places?"
Emma looked at him, suddenly smiled, and reached out to hook his finger: "Logan, you really don't beat around the bush at all."
"We're all adults, beating around the bush is so boring." Logan smiled openheartedly, "A matter of mutual consent, right?"
Emma didn't speak, just picked up her bag and stood up, motioning for him to follow.
The two walked side by side on the quiet street, not speaking, yet walking closer and closer, until finally Logannaturally took her hand.
Her hands were very cold, her fingertips slender, and he held them tightly.
Early the next morning, when the sunlight shone through the gaps in the curtains, Logan was awakened by the vibration of his phone.
He squinted and groped for his phone. It was a message sent by Tony, with only one sentence: "Hurry to the lab, I'll show you something good."
Logan scoffed and casually tossed the phone back onto the bed.
Without thinking, he knew that guy's armor must have been built, and he was in a rush to show off.
Rustling sounds came from behind; Emma had also woken up, propping herself up on her arms to look at him, her hair scattered on the pillow, carrying the laziness of just waking up.
"Who is it?" Her voice was a bit hoarse.
"Tony, that guy has nothing to do." Logan turned over and ruffled her hair, "I have to go, the boss is calling."
Emma nodded, neither asking him to stay nor acting coy, lifting the quilt to get up and go to the bathroom: "I have to go to the company too, there's a meeting in the afternoon."
After washing up, the two went out one after the other. Logan mounted his harley, and Emma got into her sports car, waving briefly at the intersection before driving off in different directions.
There was no reluctance to part, nor any extra admonitions; they were both adults who knew it in their hearts, and anyway, there was plenty of time ahead.
Logan twisted the throttle toward Stark Tower, muttering to himself inwardly.
This vacation was busier than going to work. Saving people, killing Mutants, accompanying women, even sleeping in couldn't be done in peace.
Arriving at the 66th-floor laboratory, as soon as the door was pushed open, Tony's excited voice was heard.
"You're finally here! Come over and take a look!"
Logan walked in with a cigar in his mouth, immediately spotting the silver-red armor standing in the center of the laboratory.
The lines were smooth, with full metallic texture, exquisite beyond countless times compared to that pile of scrap iron in the cave.
The mark ii stood there steadily, the arc reactor on its chest glowing with a pale blue light, particularly striking in the spacious laboratory.
Tony was wearing a set of work clothes, his face stained with a bit of grease, but his eyes were frighteningly bright, like a child who had gotten a new toy.
He walked around the armor, his tone full of pride: "The mark ii, all-titanium alloy shell, supersonic flight, built-in Jarvis auxiliary system, firepower system still being tweaked, but more than enough to deal with ordinary militants."
"It looks the part." Logan leaned against the door frame, leisurely smoking his cigar, glancing at the armor with a slightly bantering tone, "I just don't know if it looks good but is useless."
Tony's face dropped: "Looks good but useless? Do you know how much effort I spent on this thing? Let alone ordinary bullets, even a tank cannon might not be able to pierce its shell."
"Is that so?" Logan raised an eyebrow, "Then fly one for me to see?"
"Fly it is!" Tony couldn't stand being provoked the most, and immediately walked behind the armor, lifted the mask and climbed inside.
The moment the mask closed, two white lights lit up at the eyes of the armor, and Jarvis's voice sounded synchronously: "The mark ii startup is complete, all systems are operating normally."
As soon as the words fell, two flames spewed from the soles of the armor, and it slowly rose, hovering steadily in mid-air.
Tony's voice came out from the armor, carrying a hint of showing off: "See that? Smooth takeoff and landing, controllable altitude, can fly up to thirty thousand feet at most."
He maneuvered the armor to circle twice in the laboratory, deliberately posing a few handsome postures, extremely smug.
Logan watched him show off, the corners of his mouth twitching straight.
This guy, how old is he, acting like a child.
"How is it? Awesome, right?" Tony landed in front of him, his tone full of smugness, "With those two tricks of yours, maybe you can't even pierce my armor now."
"Is that so?" Logan smiled, smiling with ill intent, "Can't pierce it? Not necessarily."
"If you have the ability, give it a try!" Tony stiffened his neck, "Don't say I'm bullying you, hit it however you want, if you can make me sway even a bit, you win."
He had confidence in his armor; with the hardness of the titanium alloy plus the buffer layer, even if Logan had great strength and sharp steel claws, it was impossible to easily break through the defense.
Logan didn't speak, just reached out and made a virtual grip towards the armor.
The next second, Tony felt something was wrong.
A strange resistance suddenly came from the joints of the armor, as if they were tightly jammed by an invisible force.
He wanted to raise his hand, but his arms didn't move at all; he wanted to take a step, but his legs were like they were welded to the ground.
Even the reactor on his chest began to heat up slightly, and the prompt sound of current disorder kept ringing in his ears.
Chapter 22 Exasperated Tony
"F*ck?! What's going on?"
Tony yanked hard on the joystick inside the armor, but the armor remained motionless. "Jarvis! Run a diagnostic on the malfunction!"
"Sir, strong magnetic field interference detected. The metal shell is constrained by magnetic force, and the power system is malfunctioning," Jarvis's voice rang out steadily.
Tony: "..."
He snapped his head up to look at Logan, only to see the guy puffing on a cigar, looking at him leisurely, with his fingers gently spinning in the air.
Following his movement, Tony felt his armor rise slowly out of control, and then, like a spinning top, it leisurely did a circle in the air.
"Logan!!" Tony's exasperated voice came from inside the armor, carrying a bit of slurring from being spun dizzy, "You f*cking cheated! If you have the guts, don't use your lousy ability!"
"You didn't say I couldn't use my ability." Logan sneered, loosened his finger, and the armor dropped back to the ground with a loud 'clang', swaying and almost falling over.
Tony scrambled out of the armor in a disheveled state, his hair messy like a bird's nest, his face streaked with black and white, glaring at Logan as if he wanted to eat him alive: "Did you f*cking do that on purpose?! The system I just debugged has all been messed up by you!"
"Who told you to show off." Logan shrugged with an innocent look, "You told me to try it however I wanted, so I'm just trying it out. Facts have proven that your pile of scrap iron is just a live target when it encounters Magnetic Field Manipulation."
Tony was choked speechless, yet he had to admit that he was right.
The all-metal shell of mark ii, in front of Magnetic Field Manipulation, was indeed like standing naked in the snow, completely defenseless.
"Damn it, miscalculated," he cursed, kicking the parts beside his feet, "I'll have to add an anti-magnetic coating later."
Logan smiled and didn't badger him anymore.
He walked over to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and threw Tony a bottle of beer: "Alright, stop agonizing over it. Building the armor is a good thing, let's celebrate."
Tony took the beer, pulled it open, and took a big gulp, his anger smoothing out a bit. The two leaned against the workbench, drinking and chatting while the topic unconsciously drifted to Obadiah Stane.
"Pepper Potts found something else on her end." Tonypinched the beer bottle with his fingertips, his eyes turning colder, "Obadiah Stane has been contacting several black-market arms dealers recently, as if he's looking for something. I suspect he's eyeing my armor."
"It's not a suspicion, it's a certainty," Logan Howlett took a sip of his drink and said slowly, "The mark i skeleton you left in the cave has most likely fallen into his hands. Although that thing is a bit crude, the principles are all there. Copying it will eventually yield something similar."
Tony Stark's expression changed: "Impossible! That place is so remote, how could he possibly find it?"
"What's impossible about it?" Logan Howlett glanced at him, "The Ten Rings Gang was his people to begin with, and your kidnapping was all orchestrated by him. Could he not know that you were building armor in the cave? After you left, him sending people to pick up the wreckage is only natural, isn't it?"
Tony Stark fell silent.
It wasn't that he hadn't thought of this possibility, just that he didn't want to think deeply about it.
Obadiah Stane was a veteran who had worked hard alongside his father and could be considered to have watched him grow up. Even if the other party secretly transferred weapons, he still held onto a last shred of wishful thinking, figuring it might just be greed for money.
But if even the kidnapping was arranged by him...
"Then what do you want to do?" Logan Howlett glanced at him, "Wait until he builds the armor, and then take the evidence to court to sue him?"
"What else?" Tony Stark frowned, "I'm not about to go and kill him directly! No matter what, he is a veteran of Stark Industries. Moving against him without solid evidence will throw the company into chaos."
"By the time you find evidence, it'll be too late." LoganHowlett scoffed, his tone bluntly piercing, "Once he builds the armor, the first person he's want to kill is you. By then, you'll be wearing mark ii to fight him, smashing everything up in New York City, and even more people will die."
He knew the plot too well.
Because Tony Stark hesitated repeatedly and wanted to take regular channels, he gave Obadiah Stane time, not only creating iron monger, but also almost dragging Pepper Potts into it.
Although he won in the end, it caused a huge uproar and even drew out S.H.I.E.L.D..
"Strike first to gain the upper hand, strike last and suffer disaster." Logan Howlett flicked his ash, his tone flat, "Find an opportunity to off him, fake it as an accident, and settle it once and for all. Saves trouble down the road."
Tony Stark snapped his head up to look at him, a trace of shock in his eyes: "Are you crazy? That's murder!"
"When he hired people to kill you, he didn't hold back." Logan Howlett shrugged, looking indifferent, "If you can't bring yourself to do it, I can help you do it. Just treat it as overtime pay."
"No." Tony Stark refused without even thinking, his expression serious, "We can't do that. Even if he's guilty, he has to go through legal procedures. If we just casually go around killing people, how are we any different from those criminals?"
Logan Howlett looked at him and didn't speak.
He wasn't surprised at all.
Tony Stark looked cynical, but he was very proud deep down and had his own bottom line and principles.
Making him carry out assassinations behind the scenes was indeed something he couldn't bring himself to do.
Even knowing the other party wanted to kill him, he would rather win fair and square.
"Fine, suit yourself." Logan Howlett didn't try to persuade him further, raising his glass and taking a sip, "Anyway, I'm not the one getting the short end of the stick. When you get cornered and beaten up at home, don't cry out for me to save you."
"Who is crying out for you!" Tony Stark glared at him irritably, "I can solve it myself. Once I build mark iii, whatever he is, he won't be a match for me."
Logan Howlett smiled and didn't refute.
He knew he couldn't persuade him, and couldn't be bothered to waste the effort. People, after all, always had to take a hit to learn their lesson.
Tony Stark's temperament wouldn't turn back until he hit a brick wall. Letting him experience Obadiah Stane's ruthlessness firsthand would be more effective than saying ten thousand words.
Anyway, with him around, the sky wouldn't fall.
If Obadiah Stane really dared to court death, he would just solve it along the way; it wasn't a big deal.
The two drank for a while longer and chatted about the directions for improving the armor.
Tony Stark even specifically asked about magnetic field defense, and Logan Howlett gave him a few suggestions, such as using non-metallic materials for critical parts and adding an electromagnetic shielding layer.
Tony Stark listened very intently, holding a pen and taking notes endlessly on the blueprints, completely losing his previous exasperation.
By the time Logan Howlett left the laboratory, it was already getting dark.
He walked to the underground garage, mounted his harley, and instead of going straight home, he detoured to Maggie's coffee shop.
The coffee shop wasn't closed yet; Maggie was inside tidying up the tables and chairs. The warm yellow light fell on her, making her indescribably gentle.
Logan Howlett leaned against the doorway and watched for a while before pushing the door open and going in.
"Off work?" Maggie looked up and saw him, smiling, "How do you have time to come over today? Didn't you say you were going to take a good rest on your day off?"
"Got press-ganged by the boss." Logan Howlett walked over and casually helped her stack the chairs, "What do you want to eat tonight? My treat."
"Just something casual." Maggie wiped her hands, walked up to him, suddenly leaned in a bit closer, and wrinkled her nose, "Why is there perfume on you? Women's perfume."
Logan Howlett: "..."
He cleared his throat, his expression unchanged: "Ran into a female client on the way and chatted for a couple of minutes."
Maggie glanced at him sideways, not calling him out, and just gave a soft hum: "Is that so? That female client has quite good taste."
Logan Howlett rubbed his nose and didn't dare reply.
Fortunately, Maggie didn't probe further, picked up her jacket and bag, and hooked her arm through his: "Let's go, let's go to that Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. I want to eat Kung Pao chicken."
"Alright, your call." Logan Howlett let out a sigh of relief and smiled, rumpling her hair.
Chapter 23 Live Broadcast
For the next month, New York was preposterously calm.
Logan had completely entered a retirement mode, and his daily schedule was simple enough to be written on a cigarette pack: at seven in the morning, he was patted awake by Ares's paws, and he would walk the dog in the park; at noon, he went home to fry two steaks and make do with some whiskey; in the afternoon, he carried fishing gear to the suburban lake to fish, sitting there the entire afternoon; in the evening, he rode his harley to cruise along the coastline, and after getting enough of the evening breeze, he went home to either play games for a while or call Maggie for a quick chat.
The days passed leisurely, just like someone who had retired.
The one with the biggest change was Ares. In just a few months, this fellow grew wildly as if it had been inflated, its shoulder height surging to eighty-eight centimeters, and its weight heading straight for seventy kilograms, standing in front of people like a half-grown black bear.
Every time he took it out for a walk, the turnback rate was higher than when Logan rode his harley, and people always crowded over to ask what breed it was, and whether it was a crossbred mastiff.
Logan always spoke vaguely every time, saying it was just an ordinary Blue Bay Shepherd.
But he also muttered doubts in his heart.
A normal Blue Bay Shepherd at most had a shoulder height of sixty centimeters and weighed over forty kilograms; the creature in his home obviously exceeded the standard ridiculously.
Could it be that staying with him every day and picking up a little bit of Mutant radiation caused a genetic mutation?
He pinched Ares's dog face and examined it for a long time, while the latter wagged its tail, its wet tongue licking his hand in a mess, looking silly and foolish, without a shred of the shrewdness of "special genes".
"Fine, being a bit silly is just being silly," Logan smiled and rubbed its big head, "As long as it can guard the house, that's enough."
This statement was really not wrong.
Although Ares looked fierce, its personality was actually quite gentle, except for being fiercely protective of its master.
Last time Logan took it to a bar, a drunkard picked a quarrel and lunged at Logan, and Ares bolted up immediately, standing there with its eighty-catty body and baring its fangs, scaring the drunkard so much that his drunkenness instantly sobered up, and he fled scrambling and crawling.
Afterwards, Logan rewarded it with a large steak, and this fellow squatted in the corner with the bone in its mouth, chewing with great relish, its tail wagging like a small motor.
That afternoon, Logan carried his fishing gear to the lakeside to fish as usual.
The autumn sunlight was warm, the lake surface shimmered, and the breeze carried the scent of aquatic plants.
He slumped onto the folding chair, put the fishing rod on the bracket, and closed his eyes to rest with a cigar in his mouth.
Ares squatted beside him; initially it lay down obediently, but before long it was attracted by a squirrel in the bushes, its paws scratching the ground, itching to move.
"If you dare to run, I'll break your legs," Logan said leisurely without even lifting his eyelids.
Ares's ears drooped, it whined twice, and reluctantly lay back down, yet its paws were still digging at the dirt one stroke after another.
Logan let out a scoff, and just as he wanted to say something more, his phone suddenly rang.
It was a call from Maggie, saying that Matt had obtained his lawyer's license today and wanted to invite him to dinner in the evening.
"Alright, you guys pick the place," Logan agreed with a smile, "And congratulations to our future top lawyer by the way."
After hanging up the phone, he no longer had the mood to fish, so he packed his things and walked back.
Ares followed closely at his heels, jumping up and down as if it knew they were going to eat something good.
Returning home, he took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and just as he was about to lead the dog out, the news on the television suddenly broke in with an emergency broadcast.
"Attention viewers, we are now broadcasting a breaking news flash! An unidentified giant metal object has appeared near the Stark Industries headquarters in New York, and a fierce conflict is suspected to have occurred! The police have currently cordoned off the scene, and the specific situation remains unclear..."
Logan's footsteps paused, and he turned his head to look at the television.
The footage was shaking violently, filmed by a passerby with a mobile phone. In the night, two huge steel figures wrestled together in the plaza in front of Stark Tower, and the sound of collision shook people's eardrums painfully even across the screen.
One of them was silver and red, with a slender figure, obviously Tony's mark iii; the other was grayish-black, bulkier by a circle, with frighteningly thick cannon barrels, which was precisely Obadiah's iron monger.
"Oh, they actually started fighting," Logan raised his eyebrows. Far from being anxious, he instead sat on the sofa with great interest and picked up the remote control to turn up the volume.
Ares also crowded over, squatting beside him, tilting its head to stare at the two metal lumps on the television, letting out low whimpers in its mouth.
The battle situation on the television was fierce.
Relying on its large size and thick armor, iron mongerpunched mark iii blow by blow, each strike sparking fiercely.
Tony maneuvered the armor to dodge flexibly, his repulsor rays continuously blasting at the opponent's chest, but iron monger's armor had obviously been thickened, and when the beams hit it, they only left a scorch mark, completely unable to break the defense.
"Stupid, huh?" Logan held a cigar in his mouth and bantered, "You only looked after your own upgrades, never thinking that others would also copy your homework?"
He picked up the whiskey beside him and took a sip, treating it like watching a boxing match, and casually added a critique: "This punch was too slow, dodge to the left... Yes, kick his knee! So stupid, the armor was built in vain, you don't even know how to break a combo."
In the footage, Tony was clearly at a disadvantage.
Obadiah originally came from a military industry background; the iron monger built by copying the foundation of mark i had firepower and armor that completely crushed mark iii, and coupled with his ruthless strikes aiming at vital points every time, Tony fought with his hands and feet tied.
What was more troublesome was Pepper.
The news quickly cut to the footage inside the building, with sirens mixed with screams, saying that armed men had broken into the reactor engine room.
Logan raised his eyebrows. Without even thinking, he knew that Obadiah wanted to cut off Tony's retreat and deal with Pepper along the way.
"Playing dirty, huh?" Logan touched his chin, watching Tony noticeably distracted on television and taking a punch, the armor slamming heavily onto a car, causing the car door to cave right in.
He wasn't worried about Pepper having an accident at all. This woman looked gentle, but her temper was tougher than anyone's; once pushed to the limit, there was no telling who would deal with whom.
Besides, no matter how wild Tony was, it was impossible for him to let Pepper actually get hurt.
Sure enough, after just a few minutes, a dazzling white light suddenly lit up on the top floor of Stark Tower, followed by a loud explosion, and iron monger's movements halted abruptly, as if interfered with by something.
Seizing the opportunity, Tony sprayed fire from the soles of his feet and soared straight up into the high sky. iron monger was not to be outdone and closely pursued upward.
"Yo, he even knows to lure him to high altitudes," Logansmiled, "Not too stupid."
He remembered that in the original work, iron monger's armor did not consider the high-altitude icing problem, and it would jam once reaching a low-temperature environment. Tony intended to use the environmental advantage to counter-kill.
The television footage followed the aerial photography helicopter upwards. The two steel figures flew higher and higher, soon burrowing into the clouds. Before long, iron monger's movements were seen to become slower and slower, a layer of white frost formed on its surface, and the thrusters intermittently emitted fire.
"Here it comes, here it comes, the classic scene," Loganstraightened up a bit, full of interest.
Obadiah also discovered something was wrong and roared furiously, yet he couldn't control the armor from falling down. Seizing the opportunity, Tony turned around and fired a repulsor blast, slamming fiercely into iron monger's chest reactor.
"Boom——!!!"
The huge explosion shook people's scalps numb even across the screen.
iron monger fell from high altitude like a piece of scrap iron, slamming heavily onto the roof of the reactor engine room of Stark Tower, accompanied by another earth-shattering loud noise. Flames soared into the sky, illuminating half of New York's night sky.
mark iii wobbled down from the sky, kneeling on one knee. The surface of the armor was pitted, and the mask was shattered by half, looking extremely disheveled.
The live broadcast screen was in utter chaos; reporters shouted at the top of their lungs, and the sounds of sirens, fire engines, and the exclamations of the populace merged into one.
Logan slowly exhaled a puff of smoke and shook his head: "He who doesn't listen to the old man's advice suffers right before his eyes. I told him to strike first earlier, but he simply refused to listen. Now look at this, the company blew up, the armor is ruined, and he almost got himself dragged into it."
He picked up the phone, found Tony's number, and dialed it.
It rang for a long time before the other side picked up, with the background sound entirely messy with sirens and human voices.
Tony's voice was hoarse and exhausted, carrying a bit of heavy panting from just finishing a fight: "What?"
"Nothing much, watching the live broadcast," Logan leaned against the sofa, the amusement in his tone unable to be hidden at all, "Congratulations, Mr. Stark, the fireworks tonight were quite grandiose, cost a lot of money, didn't they?"
Tony: "..."
He fell silent for two seconds on the other end, then exploded: "Are you fucking doing this on purpose?! Is it very satisfying to watch me make a fool of myself?"
"Satisfying, why wouldn't it be satisfying," Logan laughed openly, "I told you long ago that old bastard Obadiah was dishonest, and asked you to strike first, but you refused to listen and insisted on talking about some legal procedures. How is it now? Before the procedures could be followed, you almost got hammered into scrap iron by someone."
"I won in the end!" Tony argued stubbornly with his neck stuck out, "He's dead, I'm alive, that's enough."
"Yes, yes, yes, you won," Logan perfunctorily agreed, "You won indeed, but the armor is shattered as if gnawed by a dog, and the top floor of Stark Tower has been blown through. The repair costs won't come down without a few hundred million, right? Oh right, is Pepper alright? Don't just focus on fighting yourself and drag your assistant in."
Mentioning Pepper, Tony's tone paused, and his voice dropped a bit: "She's fine, just suffered a little shock."
"That's good," Logan nodded, and started mocking again, "I thought you'd be saving the damsel in distress, but instead you let a young girl maneuver with thugs in the engine room while you were outside tearing down the house with someone. Tony Stark, your job as a bodyguard is not very good. How about I teach you some time later?"
"Get lost!" Tony cursed ungratefully, coughed twice as if he had choked, "Where are you? Hurry up and come over, there's a mess of things here, and Pepper can't handle it alone."
"Don't, I'm on vacation," Logan deliberately put on airs, "The vacation hasn't ended yet, working overtime requires triple pay, and it must count as a work-related injury. Look at how you fought this battle; there are pieces of broken iron everywhere. What if I get scratched?"
"Triple is triple!" Tony grew anxious, "Hurry up and come over! Stop the nonsense, if you don't come, your bonus for this month is gone!"
"Tsk, he's anxious," Logan let out a scoff, but didn't tease him anymore, "Alright, alright, wait for it, I'll arrive shortly. Oh right, remember to have Pepper prepare a late-night snack for me, steak, medium-well. After bustling all night, don't I need to replenish my physical strength?"
"Got it, got it, hurry up!"
Tony impatiently hung up the phone.
Logan smiled, stuffed the phone back into his pocket, and stood up to pat his pants. Ares looked up at him, its tail swaying gently.
"Stay obediently at home, I'm going to clean up your boss's mess," Logan bent down and rubbed its head, "I'll bring you bones when I get back."
Ares seemed to understand, whined twice, and obediently crawled back onto the carpet.
Logan picked up his coat and car keys, and before heading out, he turned back to glance at the television once more.
The news was still rolling and broadcasting, with the camera continuously filming the ruins of Stark Tower, and the anchor excitedly guessing the identity of the 'Iron Man'.
Chapter 24 Memorable Scenes
When Logan rode his harley to Stark Tower, the downstairs area was already tightly surrounded by Policeand reporters.
The flashing Police lights were dizzying, the air was filled with the burnt smell of metal and dust, sporadic black smoke was still rising from the top of the tower, and broken glass and metal fragments were scattered across half the street.
He parked his motorcycle outside the cordon, walked inward with a cigar in his mouth, and the on-duty Policeofficer, who was just about to stop him, froze upon seeing his face.
During this time, Logan followed Tony in and out every day, and every security guard in the building knew this top-tier bodyguard.
The Police officer hesitated for a moment and let him pass.
The elevator went straight to the top floor, and the moment the doors opened, a wave of heat and dust hit him in the face.
Pepper was standing in the ruins making a phone call, a few strands of hair disheveled, her shirt stained with soot, yet she was still methodically giving instructions into the phone, looking impossibly competent.
Tony leaned against an intact pillar, his Iron Man Suit half off, his face bruised and battered, the corner of his mouth split, cursing at the armor fragments in his hand.
"Yo, Mr. Stark, quite a unique look you've got there." Loganwalked over and kicked a twisted steel plate near his foot. "Getting beaten up like this in a fight, aren't you afraid of losing face as a billionaire when word gets out?"
Tony looked up and saw him, his anger flaring: "You fucking asshole, stop making sarcastic remarks! Come over here and lend a hand, there are still reactor fragments stuck in this pile of scrap metal, if we don't get them out it's going to blow up in a minute."
"Triple wages, as agreed." Logan walked over leisurely, his fingertips twitching slightly as he quietly deployed his magnetic field abilities.
The metal fragments stuck in the ruins were guided by an invisible hand, clattering as they all gathered together and piled neatly in the corner.
He did it covertly, masking it with the action of bending down to pick things up. Pepper was busy on the phone and didn't notice, but Tony saw it dead on, his mouth twitching slightly without uttering a sound.
With Logan helping out, the cleanup speed was much faster.
Before even half of it was cleared, the elevator door opened again, and Agent Coulson walked in with two Agents. He still had that mild and polite look, but as his gaze swept across the littered mess, a trace of imperceptible sharpness flashed in his eyes.
"Mr. Stark, Mr. Howlett." Agent Coulson stepped forward and handed over his identification. "We have taken over the scene, sorry to trouble you both. Regarding tonight's events, there are some details we'd like to confirm with you two."
"Confirm what?" Tony twitched the corner of his mouth, hissing in pain. "Didn't you see? Someone stole my company's technology, built a piece of crap iron lump to make trouble, and I've already taken care of it."
"We understand that the attacker was Mr. Obadiah Stane." Agent Coulson's tone was steady, but his gaze fell on Logan. "According to our intelligence, Mr. Howlett was not at the scene tonight?"
"Of course I wasn't." Logan leaned against the wall, casually puffing on his cigar. "I was at home watching the live TV broadcast, the fight was quite lively. What, does Agent suspect I did it? With just these two fists of mine, could I dismantle an Iron Man Suit?"
"Mr. Howlett is joking." Agent Coulson smiled and looked back at Tony. "It's just that besides the traces of armor collisions at the scene, there were also some special magnetic field disturbances. We're very curious, when did Mr. Stark's armor get retrofitted with magnetic field weapons?"
Tony's heart skipped a beat, but his face didn't show it at all. Instead, he sneered: "Magnetic field weapons? Agent Coulson, have you watched too many sci-fi movies? That was an electromagnetic pulse caused by the reactor overloading, do you understand technology? If you don't understand, go back and ask your technical advisor."
He spoke righteously and confidently, looking like "you guys are uncultured, stop guessing blindly." Agent Coulsonwas choked up by him for a moment, but didn't press further. Instead, he asked a few questions about Obadiah's motives and the source of his weapons. Tony had already fabricated his excuses in his heart, answering fluently without a single flaw.
Logan stood nearby with his arms crossed, watching the fun and occasionally chiming in—either complaining about Obadiah's insatiable greed or mocking S.H.I.E.L.D. for lagging news. Amidst the banter, he threw the conversation completely off track.
Agent Coulson asked for a long time without getting a single piece of useful information, and instead got heavily frustrated by the two working in tandem.
Finally, he realized that these two were utterly impervious to reason, one overly protective of his own, and asking further would be useless. So he put away his notebook, smiled and said "We'll contact you if there's any follow-up need", and left with his men.
Once they left, Tony breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Logan: "You were way too risky just now, what if he had figured it out?"
"So what if he figured it out?" Logan sneered. "Without proof or evidence, would they forcefully drag me away for dissection?"
Tony grunted without refuting, just kicking the metal fragments near his foot: "Alright, stop running your mouth, finish cleaning up quickly, I'm starving. Pepper, where's the midnight snack you ordered?"
"It was ordered long ago, in the downstairs lounge." Pepper shook her head helplessly and walked toward the elevator first.
The three arrived at the lounge, where food boxes were already laid out—steaks, pasta, salad, and a few bottles of beer.
Tony was starving fiercely, grabbing his knife and fork to wolf down his food, completely losing his usual playboy demeanor.
Pepper sat beside him, nibbling on her salad while discussing the follow-up PR arrangements with him. A press conference would be held early tomorrow morning, and the official statement had already been drafted: stating that a robot experiment went out of control, and Obadiahunfortunately perished.
"Troublesome." Tony chewed his steak, saying unclearly, "Making up lies is the most boring thing."
"What else can we do if we don't make it up?" Pepperglared at him. "Are you going to tell the whole World that you built an Iron Man Suit, and wore another suit to fight your uncle on the streets of New York? Tomorrow the Military will come drag you off for research."
Logan drank his beer nearby, gloating: "Exactly, honestly read according to the script, don't improvise and make trouble again. That mouth of yours, you wouldn't feel comfortable if you didn't stir up some trouble any given day."
"Get lost." Tony threw a french fry over in a bad mood. "I know what I'm doing."
That's what he said, but at the press conference the next day, he still stirred up trouble.
Logan stood in the corner of the press conference backstage, watching the bruised and battered Tony on stage.
This guy actually knew how to care about his appearance, specially covering the bruises on his face, but the split at the corner of his mouth couldn't be hidden, still looking disheveled.
He held the speech draft in his hand, reading quite properly at first and pushing everything onto an experimental accident.
But as he read on, he suddenly stopped.
Reporters off stage looked at each other in dismay, camera flashes going off non-stop.
Pepper stood in the wings, her heart instantly jumping into her throat as she desperately signaled Tony with her eyes.
But Tony acted as if he didn't see. He fell silent for a few seconds, raised his head, and his gaze swept over the dense crowd of camera lenses below, the corner of his mouth hooking into his habitual, punch-able yet proud smile.
"The fact is," he put down the draft, propping his hands on the desk with a relaxed and certain tone, "I am Iron Man."
The entire audience fell dead silent for a second, and then completely exploded into an uproar.
Reporters went crazy raising their hands to ask questions, shutter sounds crackling into a chorus.
Logan supported his forehead backstage, unable to help rolling his eyes dramatically.
"I knew this guy couldn't hold it in." He muttered in complaint, "Pretentious bastard, sooner or later he's going to die from showing off."
Pepper beside him turned pale, gritting her teeth as she whispered: "Is he crazy?! Last night we clearly agreed to read according to the script!"
"Don't you know what kind of person he is?" Loganchuckled. "Face is more important than his life; making him lie to the whole World that it was an accident is more painful than killing him. Besides, how cool is it to be a superhero? It just plays right into his wishes."
Although he said that, he knew clearly in his heart that by saying these words, Tony was equivalent to pushing himself into the spotlight. From then on, troubles would only become more and more numerous.
S.H.I.E.L.D., the Military, and all kinds of freaks and monsters would all swarm around him.
But... so what?
Logan held the unlit cigar in his mouth, looking at Tony on stage surrounded by reporters yet still handling it with ease, and twitched the corner of his mouth.
As a salaried bodyguard, joining in on the lively fun was enough for him.
After the press conference ended, Tony was unsurprisingly nagged by Pepper all the way.
Logan was happy to watch the show, fanning the flames from the side the whole way, which made Tony so angry he almost threw the documents in his face.
Chapter 25: Natasha and Matt
Life went on like this in utter chaos for a week.
News about Iron Man dominated all the headlines, and the stock price of Stark Industries fell first and then rose, surging all the way.
Tony spent every day soaking in the lab upgrading his armor, while dealing with various interviews and invitations, so busy that he barely touched the ground.
Logan continued to slack off, spending his workdays drinking and smoking in the lounge, occasionally strolling into the lab to offer a few harmless suggestions for Tony's armor.
That morning, as soon as he reached the 36th floor, he saw Pepper standing by the elevator with a darkened face, as if she were waiting for someone.
"What is this? Who pissed you off?" Logan walked over and asked with a smile.
"Tony newly hired an assistant." Pepper's tone was icy. "The legal department just submitted the documents, and she will be here right away."
Logan raised an eyebrow.
Here she comes.
Natalie Rushman, alias Black Widow Natasha Romanoff.
A plant planted by S.H.I.E.L.D., specifically keeping an eye on Tony.
He knew it crystal clear in his heart, but on the surface he pretended to know nothing, and even whistled: "Yo, new assistant? Is she pretty?"
Pepper rolled her eyes at him and said nothing.
Just as they were talking, the elevator opened with a ding.
A woman walked out from inside. Wine-red long curly hair, a well-tailored black professional suit, stepping on slender high heels, with a graceful figure and an exquisite face without a single flaw.
She was holding a folder in her hand, with a just-right professional smile on her face, clear eyes, and a calm gait, attracting the attention of the entire floor the moment she appeared.
It was none other than Natalie Rushman.
"Hello, Ms. Pepper." She walked over, took the initiative to reach out, her voice gentle and pleasant, "I am NatalieRushman, reporting for duty today."
Pepper shook hands with her, her tone formulaic: "Hello, come with me, I will show you around the work content."
The two walked forward. When passing by Logan's side, Natalie stopped, nodded slightly towards him, with a proper smile: "This must be Mr. Howlett, right? Long admired, I often heard Mr. Stark mention you."
"Is that so?" Logan held a cigar in his mouth, looked her up and down, and smiled maliciously, "He definitely did not say anything good about me. But Ms. Natalie is so pretty, it is a pity to be an assistant. I think you are more than enough to be a star."
These words sounded frivolous, but actually they were probing.
Natalie was not annoyed at all, but only smiled lightly: "Mr. Howlett is joking, I am still better at administrative work."
After saying that, she followed Pepper away, her back graceful and her pace steady without the slightest disorder.
Logan looked at her back, touched his chin, and sneered.
Putting on quite an act.
When Tony saw Natalie, his reaction was even more exaggerated than Logan expected.
At that time, he was just coming out of the lab, sweating profusely looking for water to drink, when he looked up and saw Natalie standing in the office organizing documents, and he froze on the spot, almost dropping the water cup in his hand. That gaze was straight and fixed, as if he had seen some rare treasure.
Logan leaned against the doorway, looking at his pathetic appearance, and almost laughed out loud.
"Who is this?" Tony cleared his throat and asked Pepperwith feigned calmness.
"Natalie Rushman, the new administrative assistant, to help you handle daily affairs." Pepper's tone was flat, but her eyes carried a trace of imperceptible displeasure.
"Hello, Mr. Stark." Natalie turned around, smiled and reached out, "Please take care of me from now on."
Tony shook hands with her, his soul practically flying away, and nodded repeatedly: "Easy to say, easy to say. Pepper, you just arrange it. That... Ms. Natalie, if you need anything, feel free to tell me anytime, do not stand on ceremony."
That attentive look made Logan shake his head repeatedly.
Blinded by lust, that is exactly this guy.
Over the next few days, the atmosphere in the office became bizarre.
The first thing Tony did every day at work was to talk to Natalie, asking about documents one moment and schedule the next, making it obvious that his intent was not on the wine.
Pepper kept a cold face every day, but her work efficiency was actually higher than before, clearly acting out of spite.
Natalie maneuvered between the two of them, slick and watertight, neither accepting Tony's ambiguity nor letting Pepper pick out any faults, being ridiculously professional.
Logan acted as a bystander throughout, occasionally interjecting a word to tease Tony or chatting idly with Natalie, seemingly casual, but actually keeping all her little moves in sight.
For example, she would quietly scan the laboratory access control when no one was around, for example, she would check his schedule when Tony was not paying attention, for example, in the gaze she gave him, there was always a hint of inquiry.
He did not expose her either, playing dumb while knowing the truth, making life even more fun instead.
That night, Maggie invited Logan to dinner to celebrate Matt officially obtaining his lawyer's qualification certificate.
The restaurant was chosen at a Cantonese restaurant in Chinatown, the private room was not big, but very quiet.
Maggie wore a simple dress, with a bit of light makeup on her face, and her complexion was very good. Matt sat beside her in a crisp suit, holding a white cane in his hand, with sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, looking much more mature than before.
"Mr. Logan, long time no see." Hearing the footsteps, Mattturned his head with a smile, the direction precisely accurate.
"Do not call me Mr., it sounds distant." Logan pulled out a chair and sat down, handing over the gift box in his hand, "Congratulations, big lawyer. If I get into a lawsuit in the future, I will have to look for you."
"Stop teasing him." Maggie smiled and patted Logan, "He just got his certificate, how would he dare take your case."
The three of them chatted and laughed for a few sentences, and the dishes were served one after another.
Maggie was busy picking food for Matt, and Logan drank and ate by himself, the atmosphere in the private room was very harmonious.
Matt did not talk much, most of the time he just listened to Logan and Maggie chat, occasionally interjecting a sentence or two.
But his attention was actually always placed on Logan.
He could not see, but his senses were countless times sharper than ordinary people.
He could hear Logan's heartbeat, which was absurdly steady; even after drinking several glasses of wine, there was not the slightest disorder, as calm and steady as a precision instrument.
He could hear the sound of Logan walking, very light, with almost no footsteps; even wearing heavy work boots, stepping on the floor only made a very slight sound, like someone who had received the most professional combat training.
He could also smell the scent on Logan—the smell of cigars, whiskey, and a faint, almost imperceptible smell of gunpowder and rust, like only people who deal with weapons and fights year-round would have.
And the tone in which he spoke, seemingly casual and relaxed, yet every sentence was handled just right, seeming like a joke, but actually watertight.
Matt pondered inwardly.
He had heard from Maggie before that Logan was a bodyguard for Stark Industries, with a high salary and a reliable person. But now it seemed, it was definitely not as simple as an ordinary bodyguard.
Ordinary bodyguards would not have such a steady heartbeat, would not have such light footsteps, and even less would they carry the smell of gunpowder and metal year-round. Moreover, he could feel that there was a very cryptic sense of oppression on Logan, which was usually well hidden, but occasionally leaked out inadvertently, making people unconsciously tense their nerves.
This person is not simple.
Matt had a count in his heart, but did not show it.
He still smiled gently, chatting with Logan about the law and the recent situation in New York, not showing the slightest abnormality at all.
After dinner, Logan paid the bill, and the three walked out of the restaurant side by side. The night was just right, and the streets were brightly lit.
Maggie linked arms with Matt and turned to say to Logan: "We can go back by ourselves, you should also rest early. Recently, that Iron Man thing has been making a huge fuss, you following Tony must be tired too."
"It is fine, he is busy with his, I slack off with mine." Logansmiled, and then looked at Matt: "If you have anything in the future, call me anytime. In a place like New York, knowing more people never hurts."
"Okay." Matt nodded, his smile gentle, "Then I will thank you in advance."
Logan waved his hand, turned and mounted his harley, and amidst the roaring sound, quickly disappeared into the night.
Until the sound of his car could no longer be heard, Mattgently touched Maggie's arm.
"Sister," he said in a low voice, "this boyfriend of yours is extraordinary."
Maggie was slightly stunned, and then smiled: "How is he extraordinary? He looks fierce, but actually he is a pretty good guy."
Matt shook his head and said no more.
Some things are fine as long as you know them in your heart.
He could feel that Logan was not a bad person, and was sincere towards Maggie. As for what secrets he was hiding, that was his own business.
As long as he treats Maggie well, that is enough.
On the other side, Logan was riding his bike leisurely back home. He knew that with Matt's special senses, he must have seen something, but he did not care. Who did not have a few secrets? This kid had no fewer secrets on him either.