Seven years.
Garfield had never once set foot in that island nation.
Yet in those seven years, they had hoarded an astonishing amount of gold, far more than what would ever be justified by legitimate trade.
Wealth extracted through exploitation, through squeezing innocent people dry, all while cloaking themselves in false civility.
Garfield made a decision.
Those ill-gotten gains would be taken back.
And they would be redistributed to the people across the world still suffering under oppression.
Before leaving, Garfield turned to Howard.
"Continue developing weapons for the next era," Garfield said calmly.
"But let me give you a reminder, the age of giant cannons and oversized battleships will eventually pass."
Howard blinked.
"In the coming era." Garfield continued, "The core of naval power will be super fleets led by aircraft carriers."
"Control of the sky determines control of the sea. Focus on aircraft carriers."
Then Howard hesitated, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.
"I've been developing new tanks and infantry combat vehicles according to the Army's specifications." He admitted. "Do you really want me to abandon that direction now?"
Garfield shook his head.
"Look at the Earth." He said. "Seventy percent of it is ocean."
"Continents are separated by seas. Tanks and armies are kings of land warfare that's true, and they will remain relevant for a long time."
He met Howard's eyes.
"But aircraft carriers and aircraft are the future. Tanks represent the present. You must grasp the present while preparing for what comes next."
Garfield paused, then added casually, "I also acquired a type of super metal."
Howard stiffened immediately.
"It's rarer than gold, at least ten times more valuable by weight. With current Earth technology, most conventional weapons can't even scratch it."
Howard's eyes lit up like a child discovering fire.
"Garfield, show me!" He lunged forward and hugged Garfield tightly.
"Do you know how many revolutionary designs I've had to abandon because existing metals couldn't handle the stress?"
Garfield extended a claw and pressed Howard back down.
"Relax. You can't smelt it with your current lab anyway," Garfield said dryly. "I'm just letting you know it exists."
He tilted his head slightly. "Consider it a future reward. Or a New Year's gift, if you like. But you must promise me one thing."
"Anything." Howard didn't hesitate.
"You must make a round shield out of it."
"…Deal." Howard agreed without even stopping to think.
Garfield watched him for a moment. Howard was still young, barely in his teens.
He lacked foresight and experience and had not yet entered the era where ambition, ego, and indulgence would shape him into the flamboyant genius history would remember.
For now, he was simply brilliant and sincere.
Garfield turned away and locked onto a familiar set of coordinates.
An island,
"I'm going to do a good deed." Garfield said lightly.
"Oh, by the way, does Stark Industries have any foundations or charities?"
"Yes." Howard replied. "But they're still small."
"Never mind," Garfield said. "I'll head back to the High Claw Group afterward. Come by my shop tomorrow or the day after."
"I will," Howard said firmly.
As Garfield stepped through the portal, Howard caught a glimpse of the terrain beyond, sun blazing overhead, heat shimmering in the distance.
He smiled faintly, He was smart enough to guess where his magical cat boss was going.
To be honest, Howard didn't like that island either.
They appeared polite and restrained on the surface, but beneath it all, they were greedy.
They had repeatedly attempted to buy out Stark Industries, to seize technology outright, and had even dispatched onmyōji to plot against him.
The Kamar-Taj mage guarding him had beaten them senseless before they fled in terror.
In the end, political pressure and foreign policy considerations had forced Howard to sell some products to them.
But he never forgot Garfield's warning.
Never sell the production line.
Because of Howard's stubborn insistence, Congress ultimately backed down from mandatory acquisition. After all, the true power behind Stark Industries wasn't the government…
It was the mysterious and untouchable High Claw Group.
Many of the individuals within Congress had, to varying degrees, participated in the attempted dismemberment of the High Claw Group during Garfield's absence.
They believed the owner was gone for good. What followed was swift and humiliating.
Those they sent to investigate were either exposed immediately or beaten so thoroughly that they fled while crying for mercy.
After several such incidents, Congress finally understood.
High Claw was not prey.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream