The years in New York passed like a whirlwind.
Ichigo was no longer the small, confused boy who had stepped off the plane from Japan.
At eighteen, he had grown tall and lean, with a presence that commanded the attention of every room he entered.
His orange hair was still a bold statement, but he wore it with a neatness that satisfied even the strictest Sternritter.
He moved with a quiet, regal grace—a "noble temperament" he had learned from Juha Bach's endless lessons.
He was still the same Ichigo who would punch a bully to protect a friend, but now he did it with a cool gaze and a voice that didn't need to shout to be heard.
The graduation ceremony at the Baxter Academy was a grand affair, but for Ichigo and Uryu, it felt like a formality.
While other students were crying over their diplomas and worrying about college applications, the two of them stood in the back, looking bored.
"I still don't understand why we had to attend the ceremony,"
Uryu sighed, adjusting his silver-rimmed glasses.
He had grown into a sharp, handsome young man, his style as precise as his archery.
"We both received our Ph.D.s in Applied Physics and Dimensional Theory last summer. Sitting through a high school graduation feels like a waste of time."
Ichigo leaned against a marble pillar, his hands in his pockets.
"Grandpa likes the show, Uryu. He wanted to see me stand on that stage as the top scorer. It's all about the Bach name."
"You've become quite the businessman, Ichigo,"
Uryu noted, his voice softer.
Over the years, they had become inseparable. The "Main" and "Branch" families still hated each other, but the two heirs had forged a bond that no family feud could break.
"I'm just playing the part,"
Ichigo replied, his eyes drifting toward the city.
"But school is over now. The real world is starting."
After the ceremony, Ichigo didn't go to a party.
He was summoned directly to the Wandenreich Tower. When he entered the penthouse office, he found Juha Bach standing by the window, looking out at the skyline.
The old man hadn't aged a day; if anything, his presence felt even more heavy and ancient.
"Grandpa,"
Ichigo said, stepping into the room.
"You called for me?"
Juha didn't turn around.
"Today was a day of triumph for you, Ichigo. But for the world of men, it is a day of change. Howard Stark and his wife, Maria, were killed in a car accident last night."
Ichigo stiffened.
He remembered the name from the billboards and the news.
Howard Stark was a titan of industry, a man who had shaped the modern world.
"A car accident?"
Ichigo asked, his eyes narrowing.
"That sounds too simple for a man like Howard."
"It was,"
Juha said, turning to face his grandson. His dark eyes were cold.
"It was an assassination. A professional hit carried out by an organization that hides in the shadows of history. They think they are clever. They think they can remove a piece from the board without me noticing."
"Are we going to do something?"
Ichigo's hand twitched, his inner Phoenix stirring at the thought of injustice.
"No,"
Juha said firmly.
"We do not move for the sake of dead men, Ichigo. Stark was a rival, not an ally. We will attend the funeral to show respect for the legacy, but that is all. Listen to me carefully: do not involve yourself in the affairs of others. If you step into a circle of revenge, you will spin in it forever. A King only moves when it benefits his people. We will watch, we will wait, and we will only strike when the reward is worth the effort."
Ichigo lowered his head, his face unreadable.
"I understand, Grandpa."
Inside, however, the Agent was already making his own plans.
The funeral for Howard and Maria Stark was held at a private estate under a grey, weeping sky.
The air was thick with the scent of expensive lilies and the fake sorrow of politicians.
Juha Bach arrived with a full escort of Sternritter in white suits.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea as the Bach family walked through.
Ichigo walked a step behind his grandfather, his eyes scanning the crowd.
It was an ugly sight.
Instead of a solemn farewell, the event felt like a marketplace.
Men in expensive suits were whispering in corners, clutching their phones.
They weren't mourning Howard; they were discussing stock prices, hostile takeovers, and who would control the Stark weapons contracts.
In the center of it all stood a young man.
He looked about Ichigo's age, with dark, messy hair and eyes that were bloodshot from grief and exhaustion.
Tony Stark.
He looked lost. He was surrounded by "vultures"—older men from the Stark Industries board and government officials—who were leaning in close, pressing papers into his hands and asking questions about "continuity of leadership."
"Mr. Stark, we really need your signature on the emergency declaration,"
One fat man in a grey suit urged, his voice oily.
"The investors are panicking. We need to stabilize the company."
"Tony, your father would have wanted the board to take over the day-to-day operations,"
Another woman whispered, her hand on Tony's arm in a way that felt like a trap.
Tony looked like he wanted to scream.
He looked like he wanted to burn the whole place down.
He was a genius, a man who could build wonders, but right now he was just a boy who had lost his world.
Juha Bach approached Tony. The vultures scattered instantly, terrified by the sheer pressure Juha radiated.
"Anthony Stark,"
Juha said, his voice echoing in the sudden silence.
Tony looked up, his expression guarded.
"Mr. Bach. I didn't think you'd come. My father always said you were the only man he couldn't outsmart."
"Your father was a man of vision,"
Juha said, giving a shallow nod.
"It is a pity his life was cut short before he could see his final works completed."
Juha offered a few more words of cold, formal comfort before moving on to speak with some international delegates.
He had done his duty as a rival.
Ichigo, however, stayed behind.
He watched as the vultures immediately tried to close back in on Tony.
One man reached out to grab Tony's shoulder, ready to whisper another demand into his ear.
Before the man could touch him, Ichigo stepped forward. He didn't use a portal or a spell.
He simply stood between Tony and the board member.
The air around Ichigo sharpened. A faint, golden pressure—the power of his "Golden Cable" fate—rippled outward.
The board member froze, his face turning pale.
He felt as if he had stepped into the cage of a lion.
"He is mourning his parents,"
Ichigo said, his voice calm and melodic, yet carrying a terrifying weight.
"Give him ten feet of space. If any of you speak to him again today, you'll have to explain your business to me. And I am not as indifferent as my grandfather."
The vultures backed away, stuttering apologies.
They knew who Ichigo was. They knew the "Prince of Wandenreich" was someone you didn't cross if you wanted to keep your career.
Tony Stark blinked, looking at the tall, orange-haired young man in the white suit.
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know,"
Ichigo said, turning to look at Tony.
He saw the potential in the other man—a spark of brilliance that would one day change the world.
"But Howard Stark deserved a better send-off than a pack of hungry dogs."
Tony let out a dry, shaky laugh.
"Tell me about it. Thanks... Ichigo, right?"
"Yeah,"
Ichigo said. He looked at the grave, then back at Tony.
He remembered what Juha said about not getting involved, but he also remembered Stan Lee's playful grin.
Plot twists, Ichigo thought.
"If they give you too much trouble, call the Wandenreich Tower and ask for me,"
Ichigo said, handing Tony a small, silver card.
"My grandfather might be a shark, but I'm the one who decides who gets bitten."
Tony looked at the card, then at Ichigo.
For the first time that day, the shadows in Tony's eyes lifted just a little bit.
Ichigo walked back toward his grandfather, his regal coat fluttering in the wind.
He had disobeyed his grandfather but as an Agent of a higher power, he knew that the story of Tony Stark was just beginning—and he wanted to make sure it was a good one.