Chapter 91

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...

Tony realized that even if he returned home, his safety was not guaranteed. Before he could build a security defense network himself, he needed an external party to provide protection. Natasha, along with the organization behind her, seemed like the best option.

At the very least, Natasha clearly wanted the Ark Reactor, and as long as that was the case, she would ensure nothing happened to Tony, the one who held the key to its technology. In this sense, they were natural allies.

Of course, there was always the possibility that Natasha had other intentions. Still, Tony believed that as long as she didn't pose a threat to him now, she wouldn't in the near future. He was betting on this, and the odds were in his favor.

Tony quickly assessed the situation, demonstrating a level of wisdom that Natasha acknowledged. She also gained deeper insight into his character.

"You're very clever," Natasha said after a moment of thought. Then, she changed the subject. "So, what do you need from us?"

"Huh!"

Tony felt a bit more at ease after hearing those words. He was on the right track with his gamble.

His gaze sharpened as he spoke seriously, "When I return, I'm going to announce the closure of the arms division. The Stark Industries will enter a period of turmoil, at least for a short while.

During this turmoil, anyone could come after me or my people. Ordinary threats, I'm not worried about. But—"

"You want us to protect you from people like me?" Natasha interrupted with a sly smile, her red lips curling up.

"Exactly. I can handle regular business wars and corporate struggles, but when it comes to people like you, I'm not so sure," Tony admitted without hesitation.

Normally, he wouldn't be concerned about his safety. As the director of Stark Industries and a billionaire, he had a solid security team, not just his trusted bodyguard Happy. If regular people tried to come after him, they wouldn't succeed.

But individuals with unique powers? That was a different story.

"How long?" Natasha asked, her eyes glinting.

"Six months," Tony suggested.

"Too long. Not possible," Natasha rejected immediately.

"Three months, then," Tony countered without hesitation.

Three months would be enough for him to develop the technology he needed. By then, he would have the ability to protect himself. But could he really be confident about solving it all within that time?

Natasha thought for a moment. Three months wasn't a long period, and since it was in New York, there shouldn't be any major issues. She nodded and agreed, "Alright."

"We'll keep an eye on you, quietly."

"Thank you," Tony replied, smiling. "After I return, Stark Industries will deliver the first Ark Reactor, but it will take time to assemble."

Despite the smile, Tony's curiosity about the woman in front of him and the organization behind her only deepened. How powerful must they be to have such confidence?

Not long after, Tony finally returned to New York.

Unsurprisingly, his return caused an uproar across the United States. Major media outlets rushed to New York, eager for a scoop on Tony Stark. Everyone was curious about what had happened to the billionaire during his kidnapping—and most importantly, who had rescued him.

It wasn't just the news media. Numerous institutions, individuals, and departments with stakes in Stark Industries were closely monitoring the situation. Some were even beginning to make their own moves.

But unexpectedly, as soon as Tony arrived back in New York, he held a press conference and made a huge announcement.

At the Stark Industries press conference, Tony Stark made a solemn announcement:

"From now on, Stark Industries will be shutting down its arms division and will no longer be involved in weapons manufacturing."

The room erupted in shock. Reporters from every major outlet shot up from their seats, rushing to the front of the room, shouting questions at the top of their lungs:

"Mr. Stark, why did you make this decision? Does the board of directors support it?"

"Mr. Stark, will closing the arms division cause irreversible harm to Stark Industries' future?"

"Mr. Stark, now that you've exited the arms market, will Stark Industries pivot to other industries?"

"Was this decision influenced by your kidnapping experience?"

"Mr. Stark!"

The crowd buzzed with excitement and disbelief, but Tony, dressed in his signature suit and sunglasses, said nothing further. He had already explained his reasons for closing the arms division during the press conference, but he knew the reporters—and the world—wouldn't easily accept it. Not that it mattered to him.

Without another word, he turned and left the stage, followed closely by his good friend Colonel Rhodes, his bodyguard Happy, and his assistant Pepper Potts.

Meanwhile, Obadiah Stane, bald and muscular, another board member of Stark Industries, remained behind. His face was a mask of forced calm as he struggled to contain his anger. Trying to smooth things over, he faced the reporters and offered them a strained smile while hurriedly answering their questions.

Unfortunately, the closure of the arms division was inevitable. As the director of Stark Industries, Tony had the authority to make such a decision.

Behind the crowd of reporters, a mysterious woman in a black trench coat, sunglasses, and burgundy curls sat calmly, observing the chaotic scene. She watched the man at the news desk, the so-called "father" of Stark Industries, with a faint smile on her lips. She murmured softly to herself, in a voice only she could hear:

"Is it really you? Though well-hidden, the power struggles of wealthy families are always the same—full of hypocrisy, cunning, and bloodshed."

She sighed. "How dull."

...

In the Stark Industries office, Obadiah, furiously swept everything off his desk—papers, decorations, all of it. He looked like an enraged bull, gripping the desk with his chest heaving, his face twisted in anger, eyes bloodshot.

"Tony Stark," he growled, "I've tolerated your recklessness again and again, but you've disappointed me beyond measure. You're just as arrogant as your father."

"I won't let you two—father and son—destroy all my hard work."

"You should have died back there," he muttered darkly. "I didn't want to get my hands dirty, but you've left me no choice."

His voice, dripping with murderous intent, echoed through the office. Obadiah's gaze fell on a photo of him and Tony, the only thing left standing on the desk. His eyes were cold, filled with resentment.

"You foolish! Arrogant! Little piece of shit... you deserve what's coming."