"That day is never coming," Tony said, voice low, a laugh riding under it. "The ODM gear is fully mature tech now. Over the next few days I'll be drawing lucky winners and handing out a hundred sets to the public, free of charge. Five months, tops, and the company puts ODM gear on the open market. And within half a year, my own neural-pulse weapon gets miniaturized too."
"I'm Tony Stark, certified super-genius, with Stark Industries at my back. In this world there's no idea I can't dream up and no weapon I can't build! So what if Spider-Man trots out some new toy down the line? Anyone doubts us, we call it a beta. Give me a little time and I'll design something more elegant, more refined — and then I launch it across the board!"
Tony was working himself up. He shot to his feet, arms sweeping, voice climbing. "Brains? Spider-Man's got nothing on me. Resources? Spider-Man's a broke nobody with a Coca-Cola ad slapped on his chest — what's he got to compare? Picture it: everyone's Spider-Man, everyone's got the new gear. Who's left to doubt a thing?"
Watching his young master ride high, Jarvis held his tongue as long as he could — then finally said, "In that case, young master... wouldn't that make you the, ah, the King of Knockoffs?"
Tony petrified on the spot. Went stiff as stone where he stood...
Then Jarvis twisted the knife. "Every time you invented a new weapon, Hammer Industries would copy it — and you'd curse them up and down for it. And now here you are. Are we... taking lessons from Hammer Industries?"
Petrified Tony took it like a sledgehammer to the chest — and crumbled into a little pile of grit on the floor...
A long moment later he came back to himself, glanced around, and changed the subject. "Looks like Spider-Man's a no-show again tonight. I'll head down to the lab — maybe I'll crack the neural-pulse miniaturization ahead of schedule."
But before he could go, Jarvis spoke up again. "Young master, skip the lab tonight. You've pulled all-nighters for days now — it's bad for you. When's the last time you looked in a mirror? Oh, my poor young master — once the peerless, elegant gentleman of a fallen world, now a greasy STEM boy! Come to think of it, it's been ages since you had a cover girl stay over. Shall I arrange something for tonight?"
Tony touched the hair drooping to the tip of his nose. Sure enough — greasy, matted into a slab. He was just weighing whether to call up a pair of twins for a little stress relief when Happy tore off his headset, shot to his feet, and shouted—
"Boss! Boss, Spider-Man's out! Spider-Man showed up!"
"What? Where?" Tony shoved the stray thoughts aside and hurried over.
"Word from Spider-Man Unit 008 — Spider-Man's at Times Square, on Manhattan's Seventh Avenue, right now!" Happy answered at once.
"I'm heading over. Have 008 stall him."
Tony was already making for the top floor. He'd set it up in advance — chopper on standby, ready to fly the second Spider-Man appeared.
"Young master, you broke your leg last time. Sit this one out — let Happy go find Spider-Man!" Jarvis pressed, worried.
Tony refused without a beat of thought. "No. I only admitted I'm Spider-Man this morning. Tonight's the 'Everyone Is Spider-Man' event — I have to show my face one way or another. Besides, I want to meet this Spider-Man myself, see who he really is. As for safety, Jarvis, don't give it a second thought. I retrofitted the suit — side-wings at the waist, emergency chute on the back — and more to the point, I coded a few new fail-safes into the control program. Enough for any crisis. So relax!"
"Right — and don't forget Plan B. Worst case, we send people in to swarm him. Jarvis, start gathering the nearby Spider-Men now. Then they wait for my next order."
With that, Tony jabbed the top-floor button in the elevator, then turned back to Happy. "Reporters all set?"
"Set. Guaranteed — tomorrow morning, every front page runs a group photo of the 'happy, harmonious Spider-Man family.'" Happy thumped his chest.
---
"You're telling me Tony Stark is coming here in person? To talk business — with me?"
Atop the building at the three-way junction of Times Square, Madam President frowned, puzzled — sizing up the bizarre Spider-Man across from her while she was at it.
A Spider-Man toting ODM gear was already weird enough. This particular specimen had at least skipped the Forgive Hat this time — but what in the world was that turtle shell on his back?
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles + Attack on Titan + Spider-Man = what?
"Yes. Mr. Stark is on his way — please wait another five minutes, the helicopter will be here soon!" the turtle-backed Spider-Man said.
Maya thought it over. Tony showing up actually played into her plans — and she was curious what new nonsense he was cooking up. So she nodded, said nothing more, and simply let her sensing ability loose to look over this ODM gear 2.0.
Three minutes later, even Maya couldn't help marveling. This Tony Stark really was a genius. Credit where it's due — in this little time, with the backward tech of the era, he'd bootstrapped a working prototype of a smart AI.
The turtle shell wasn't really a shell. It was a miniature smart computer plus a backup chute. Tony had learned from breaking his leg last time and given up on remote data streaming. Instead he'd standardized and modularized the ODM movements, then written a separate program for each action and module. As "Spider-Man" moved, the AI issued the matching commands, adjusting the angle and thrust of the vector propulsors on the fly.
Meaning: with the command set running onboard, no more fear of a dropped signal — and the chute on the back covered the basics of staying alive. You could say Tony had genuinely taken the fantasy gadgets out of Attack on Titan and made them scientific, real, mass-producible. Not like Madam President, cheating her way through on ninjutsu. On that count, Maya honestly couldn't hold a candle to Tony right now.
Still, Madam President wasn't sulking about it. Tony was 10 years older than her, and a mega-rich second-gen heir — of course he'd outclass her; that was only normal. Worst case, today's Maya could still throw down a line: You've got cannons — I've got kung fu!
(Author's note: That's Brigitte Lin's line as Invincible Asia — yeah, she catches the cannonball barehanded.)
Soon Maya's attention was yanked away by a "Spider-Man" streaking over fast. One sweep of her senses — who else but Tony?
Turned out that for extra effect, Tony had set the chopper down way off, then covered the rest of the way on the ODM gear himself. A helicopter was too conspicuous, after all — hardly a fit for his Spider-Man persona.
"Hey — good to finally see you again. That ODM gear I gave you last time, working out all right?" Tony called the second he touched down.
"What?" Maya blanked. The little box at her waist had been jury-rigged into that getup — how did Tony figure it was his?
And in the middle of her confusion, Maya's senses caught the voice in Tony's earpiece. Mm. Very familiar. She'd heard it before.