In 2008, in the United States, Los Angeles.
Tony Stark's Rolls-Royce drove past the dazzling neon lights of the Dragon Kingdom Grand Theater.
He sat in the plush back seat, covering his mouth with one hand, letting out a big yawn, and a few physiological tears squeezed out from the corners of his eyes.
"Tired?" Pepper Potts, sitting next to him, looked up from a thick stack of financial reports, pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses, and her voice, soft with fatigue, asked, "Stan's last proposal dragged on for too long."
"It's not that it dragged on for too long, it's that the outdated circuits in his brain need an upgrade," Tony pouted, his fingers drumming irritably on the seat cushion. "Every time I finish a board meeting with him, I feel like my IQ has been forcibly downclocked."
The screen of the car's communication system lit up silently, and Howard Stark's well-maintained face, with a touch of old-school gentlemanliness, appeared on it. He was holding a delicately sculpted little girl, Morgan Stark, in his arms.
"Hey, you brat!" Howard's voice came through the speakers, full of vigor and a habitual hint of disdain. "Look at the time? Why aren't you back yet? Morgan's already tired of waiting."
Tony immediately changed his expression, displaying his best "sweet daddy" smile to the screen—a smile that could make any little girl swoon: "Coming, coming! The traffic is as bad as Christmas shopping."
He softened his voice, speaking to his daughter, who was blinking her big eyes in Howard's arms: "My little sweetheart, did you miss your all-powerful, handsome, and charming daddy?"
Morgan snuggled her little head into Grandpa's arms and, in a milky voice, cried out, "I want my mommy!" Her little finger pointed directly at Pepper, who was off-screen.
Pepper immediately tossed her documents aside, a gentle smile gracing her lips, and leaned over to Tony's shoulder, her face almost pressed against the screen: "Hey, my little sugarplum! Mommy's here! We'll be home soon, and I brought you super—delicious donuts!"
Howard watched his granddaughter's attention instantly shift to her mother, shaking his head with a mix of helplessness and doting affection.
He skillfully operated the system, splitting off a new small screen for Pepper and Morgan's exclusive chat channel. Then he cleared his throat, addressing Tony on the main screen.
"Tony, listen," Howard said seriously. "Tomorrow, make some time and come with me to New York."
Tony raised an eyebrow: "Hmm? Another high-tech summit? Or some museum inviting you, an old World War II relic, to make an appearance?" The teasing in his tone was undisguised.
"It's a gathering," Howard ignored his son's sarcasm. "Steve and Peggy are hosting, inviting us over. Bucky, Peggy's niece Sharon, and others will all be there."
Tony immediately pulled a long face, letting out a disgusted sound: "Ha! A reunion for you World War II living fossils? Give me a break, Dad! I can already imagine the scene: Grandpa Steve pulling out his old photos, starting to talk about 'when I joined the army…' Bucky Uncle nodding in agreement, and Grandma Peggy elegantly debunking their tall tales… It'll be on repeat until I'm so bored I need an IV drip of coffee to recharge."
Howard glared at him: "Stop being such a wiseacre! It's rare for us to gather."
Tony's eyes darted around, and his face suddenly took on an extremely gossipy, amused expression. He leaned closer to the screen, lowering his voice to ask slyly, "But speaking of which… Old man."
His face was practically screaming "satisfy my curiosity." "I've never understood, with Grandpa Steve looking all scrawny and old now…"
Tony gestured at his own chest, the meaning clear, "How did he manage to woo Grandma Peggy, the legendary 'S-Rank Military Flower,' among all those burly soldiers? Huh?"
He winked and nudged: "Was it just with that stale 'I can do this all day' meme? If that story is truly exciting, I might reluctantly sacrifice some precious time to hear it."
On the screen, Howard's mouth clearly twitched, as if he wanted to laugh but was struggling to maintain his dignity.
Before he could speak, Morgan, who was chattering about donuts with her mother, suddenly turned her head and called out clearly to the big screen: "Grandpa! No bad words!"
Howard: "…"
Tony, in the driver's seat, froze for a moment, then burst into an unreserved, extremely flamboyant laugh: "Hahahahahahaha! Hear that, Dad! My daughter's even lecturing you now!" He smugly lifted his chin towards the screen.
Howard's old face looked a bit flustered. He turned to Morgan, putting on his doting Grandpa face again: "Honey, Grandpa didn't…" Before he could finish, Tony interrupted him again.
"Alright, alright! To hear Grandpa Steve's romance, and to see my daughter boss you around…" Tony quickly tapped the car's screen twice, setting the navigation destination. "New York, right? What time tomorrow?"
"Happy, get the jet ready for me," Tony instructed the front seat.
"Yes, boss," Happy's steady voice came from the front.
Just then, Morgan's voice rang out clearly from the screen again: "Daddy! I want a cheeseburger!" The little girl had clearly finished talking about donuts with her mom and was now missing her dad, her appetite wide open.
Hearing this, Tony's eyebrows immediately shot up, and a smug arc appeared at the corner of his mouth: "Double cheese? No annoying pickles? Excellent choice, worthy of being my cutest, most tasteful little princess!" He mimicked Morgan's tone.
Morgan nodded vigorously, poking her chubby cheek with a little finger, her big eyes fluttering: "And… a strawberry sundae! With lots and lots of strawberry sauce on top!"
"No problem!" Tony snapped his fingers, his face full of doting affection, and raised his voice again towards the driver's seat: "Happy! Did you hear the princess's supreme command? Target changed! The nearest, best cheeseburger joint, full speed ahead!"
The Rolls-Royce smoothly turned, driving onto another bustling street.
Not long after, the car smoothly pulled into a roadside parking spot.
Tony and Pepper opened the doors and got out, and Happy also quickly exited, habitually scanning the surroundings vigilantly.
Tony, however, waved his hand, signaling Happy to relax: "Just wait for us here; the princess's burger and sundae can't wait too long."
"Yes, boss," Happy dutifully stood by the car.
Tony naturally took Pepper's hand.
"Let's go, Ms. Potts, to procure a royal burger for our Your Highness."
The two strolled leisurely along the sidewalk.
The night air was cool, and the neon lights painted the street in vibrant colors.
Pepper looked at Tony's serious expression, as if he were on an "important mission," and couldn't help but tease, "Using buying a burger for Morgan as an excuse to slack off and wander? Mr. Stark, that's not like you."
Tony shrugged, looking completely justified: "How can this be called slacking off? This is strategic rest! Keeping a brilliant mind like mine running at high speed requires regular maintenance and relaxation! Work-life balance, understand? Otherwise, inspiration will dry up."
He squeezed Pepper's hand, "Besides, walking with you, how can that be considered slacking off? This is top-tier enjoyment."
Pepper was amused by him, shaking her head, letting him lead her aimlessly.
The city's hustle and bustle seemed to fade into the background as the two enjoyed this rare moment of leisure, free from official duties.
As they walked, an incredibly enticing aroma aggressively invaded both their nostrils—it was a scent combining rich meat, charcoal, and some unique spice, so fragrant it went straight to their heads, making their mouths water.
Almost simultaneously, both their stomachs, without prior agreement, let out a clear protest: "Grrr—"
A hint of embarrassment flashed across Pepper's face, and she instinctively covered her stomach.
Tony, on the other hand, immediately straightened his back, feigned composure by clearing his throat, and looked away, as if the loud "grrr" sound had nothing to do with him.
"Ahem… The air quality in this city is really getting worse and worse; there are all sorts of strange smells," he complained, trying to cover his tracks.
Pepper looked at him, trying to suppress her laughter at his stubbornness, and decided to give him an out: "Hmm… This smell is indeed a bit special. However."
She rubbed her stomach, admitting, "I really do feel a bit hungry; the negotiation was quite exhausting."
Tony, hearing this, immediately latched on, a "reluctant" expression appearing on his face: "Oh? You're hungry? Well… alright! Since you're hungry, as a considerate gentleman, I certainly can't let you go hungry while accompanying me to buy a burger for Morgan. Let's go, I'm in a good mood today, so I'll accompany you to grab a quick bite."
He spoke with such righteousness, as if he were making a tremendous sacrifice.
Pepper stifled a laugh, nodding cooperatively: "You're too kind, Mr. Stark."
"You're welcome," Tony replied in a serious tone, immediately following the captivating aroma.
The two walked through a short, dimly lit alley, and the aroma grew more intense.
Finally, a rather unassuming small shop appeared around the corner.
The shop was small, with a decor style that blended rugged industrial elements with a certain decadent, personalized graffiti.
Most eye-catching was the neon sign hanging above the doorway, with red and blue tubes outlining several bold, flashy characters that constantly flickered in the night: "Devil May Cry."
Tony's footsteps abruptly halted, his "reluctant" expression instantly replaced by astonishment.
He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the sign, then looked at the understated yet somewhat mysterious little shop.
"Devil May Cry?" he murmured, his voice filled with surprise. "That name… quite arrogant, isn't it?"
An inexplicable curiosity, mixed with the strong appetite stirred by the aroma, made him immediately decide.
"This is it! Daring to call itself that, I want to see if even a devil would cry after eating their food!" Tony's interest was piqued, and he was the first to push open the rather heavy, rivet-studded metal door.
Tony pushed open the heavy, rivet-studded metal door, and a stronger aroma of food, mixed with something… metallic and leathery, wafted out.
The lighting inside was dim, with rough industrial pipes exposed overhead, and the walls adorned with strangely styled abstract graffiti and several oddly shaped cold weapons.
The furnishings were simple: a few small round tables, a bar counter, and an old sofa in the corner.
But what captivated Tony's attention were the people.
Almost every table had someone.
At the table closest to the door, a black-haired man in loose clothing sat alone, a glass of Water in front of him, his sharp eyes sweeping over Tony and Pepper before lowering again, as if on guard.
A little further away, two White-haired middle-aged men with distinct styles occupied the most prominent spot.
One, wearing a flamboyant red long trench coat, was unceremoniously devouring a towering stack of pizza, sauce smeared slightly at the corner of his mouth.
Across from him, a man in a dark blue trench coat, with a colder demeanor, elegantly held a cup of red tea, sipping slowly, his eyes calm and unruffled, as if the surrounding commotion had nothing to do with him.
On the old sofa in the corner, a shiny bald head was covered by a magazine with a supermarket discount cover, snoring loudly, sleeping soundly.
Near the bar counter, two girls in Gothic Lolita dresses huddled together, intently looking at a computer screen on the table, seemingly researching some data, occasionally exchanging whispers and letting out clear laughter.
Behind the bar, stood a long-haired man of Japanese descent, slowly wiping a glass.
On the other side of the bar, a sexy, tall woman wearing glasses and a red-haired woman were drinking red wine. Across from them, a White-haired girl in a chef's uniform was concentrating on piping cream onto a cake, her delicate little face unaware of the flour smudged on it.
Tony paused, a slight frown on his face. Strange, these people… he had never met them before, yet they gave him a bizarre sense of familiarity?
"This way," Pepper tugged at him, speaking softly. They walked towards an empty table against the wall and sat down.
As soon as they sat down, a figure floated lightly over. It was a White-haired girl in a modified black and white maid outfit, with a sweet face, a gentle smile, and a menu in her hand.
"Hello, Mr. Stark, Mrs. Stark," she said, placing two menus in front of them.
Tony raised an eyebrow, his eyes scrutinizing the girl: "You know us?"
The girl smiled and nodded, pointing to an old cathode-ray tube television hanging on the wall behind the bar.
On the screen, a news clip was replaying: Tony Stark standing at a press conference podium, full of vigor, pointing at the reporters below, with a huge "Stark INDUSTRIES" logo and "FUTURE ENERGY" subtitles in the background.
"Hmmph," Tony understood, a smug smile playing on his lips. "It seems my influence is everywhere; even such a… unique little shop can't escape it."
Tony looked at the exaggerated names on the menu and casually pointed: "This one, the 'Hellfire' set meal." He didn't bother to read the details.
Pepper added: "And an 'Angel's Kiss' dessert."
"Alright," the White-haired girl smiled, noted it down, and turned to leave.
Tony leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the various people in the shop, finally resting on the long-haired man wiping glasses behind the bar: "Pepper, seriously, this shop name is pretty arrogant. 'Devil May Cry'? I want to see who the boss is."
Not long after, the curtain to the back kitchen lifted.
A young man in a simple black T-shirt and a White chef's apron walked out.
He was about twenty-five or twenty-six, with striking, neat silver short hair. His features were deep-set and well-defined, possessing a handsome quality unique to the East.
He steadily carried a large tray, on which sat Tony's "Hellfire" set meal—a burger piled high with patties, cheese, and hot sauce, looking explosively caloric, served with a side of golden, crispy French fries—and Pepper's dessert—a delicate muffin adorned with fresh berries.
The White-haired youth walked easily to Tony and Pepper's table, swiftly arranging the food one by one.
"Please enjoy, Mr. Stark, Ms. Stark," he looked up, a gentle smile on his face, his voice clear and bright.
Tony's gaze fell on his face, and the hand he was about to use to take the plate suddenly froze in mid-air.
Buzz—
His brain felt as if it had been struck hard by an invisible hammer.
Tony's pupils dilated and contracted as he stared intently at the face before him.
A strong, almost absurd sense of familiarity instantly gripped him.
This face… this contour…
He knew it! He had definitely seen it somewhere!
But his memory banks frantically searched, only to hit a wall, a complete blank!
This feeling made him extremely uncomfortable, as if his meticulously designed, precise system had developed an inexplicable bug.
"You…" Tony's voice, uncharacteristically, trembled slightly. He lowered his hand, leaning forward slightly.
"Who are you?"
The White-haired youth's smile remained gentle, showing no hint of being offended or surprised.
He set down the tray, straightened up, and met Tony's scrutinizing gaze, his smile as bright as sunshine.
"My name is Chen Tian."
-----------------------
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