Chapter 98 Tony I Must Be Losing My Mind!

Anton glanced toward Obadiah, who was mingling with other guests, a glass of wine in hand, and an easy smile on his face. Deep inside, Anton was struck by the timing.

Obadiah and Dr. Otto Octavius "Artificial Sun Experiment" was already set to begin.

This meant that, after the chaos of the Green Goblin attacks and the downfall of The Foot Clan, New York was about to face yet another impending disaster.

Poor New Yorkers.

Absolutely tragic.

If this city had an award for the most dangerous place in the universe, Manhattan would win it hands down.

New York: Where catastrophe is a monthly tradition.

Anton couldn't help but smirk. "Anyone who starts a construction business here, specializing in post-disaster rebuilding, could become a billionaire in no time," he mused.

Tony Stark stood nearby, holding a drink, his sharp gaze fixed on Anton.

"You've really surprised me, Anton."

Tony thought back to their previous confrontations months ago. The bratty, frivolous Anton he had known seemed like a distant memory compared to the refined and confident figure before him now.

Even Tony, who had undergone his own transformation, had to admit it—people could change.

But Anton evolution was remarkable, bordering on inexplicable. The spoiled playboy had turned into a celebrated director, steering Batman to worldwide fame.

There was something else about Anton that Tony couldn't ignore.

Batman.

Everyone knew The Daily Bugle—which Anton controlled—had a close relationship with Batman.

And as director of Batman: The Dark Knight, Anton had essentially created Batman cinematic persona.

Online speculation ran wild about Tony involvement in The Dark Knight, but only Tony himself knew the truth: he had nothing to do with it.

Anton was solely responsible for the movie success.

Tony had also tasked J.A.R.V.I.S. with digging into Anton background.

The findings were… interesting.

There was a 70% chance that Anton was Batman.

The remaining 30% uncertainty stemmed from two factors:

Batman personality and skill set were wildly different from Anton prior reputation as a carefree playboy.

On the night of The Dark Knight $600 million global box office celebration, Anton and Batman had been seen in two separate locations simultaneously.

But Tony dismissed the second point.

After all, if Tony wanted to, he could send one of his Mark suits to New York right now to play superhero, while he lounged here at the party.

In that case, the conclusion seemed inevitable:

Anton must be Batman.

Still, Tony found it difficult to reconcile this revelation.

Sure, Tony himself had transformed into Iron Man, but only after a life-or-death experience and through sheer genius and determination.

Anton had no such dramatic catalyst—or did he?

"Anton is not Batman," Tony muttered to himself, trying to shake off the thought.

But as he watched Anton, another piece of evidence undermined his skepticism:

The woman.

The stunning redhead by Anton side exuded a mesmerizing, almost dangerous allure.

Tony smirked. This was classic Anton—the same old womanizer, surrounded by beautiful women.

Batman or not, some things never changed.

Anton turned toward Tony with a grin, raising his glass in greeting.

"And it all thanks to your support, Tony," Anton said, his tone half-joking, half-serious. "After all, this is your first party since you've come back safely. We can't just stand around here all night."

He gestured toward a corner of the room where a lively group of their mutual acquaintances was gathered.

"Look at that—they're betting on us again."

Tony followed Anton gaze and rolled his eyes.

A group of their old party friends was whispering animatedly, occasionally glancing their way.

"They never quit, do they?" Tony remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Who got the better chance tonight?" Anton teased.

Tony smirked, raising his glass. "Let find out."

"Shall we continue our bet?"

Tony suddenly spoke up.

Although he was fairly certain Anton couldn't possibly be Batman, the cautious side of him still wanted to test the waters.

"If you insist." Anton shrugged.

"I've invited the ten most famous Playboy cover models of the past year," Tony said, his mischievous eyes glancing at Natasha, who stood by Anton side. With a smirk, he added, "If you can find all ten of them, right here in this room, and get them to leave with you in front of me, I'll consider this a loss on my part."

"Not planning to compete with me this time?" Anton raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Tony declaration.

"I've already found someone who suits me," Tony replied nonchalantly, his eyes unconsciously drifting to Pepper Potts, who was busy hosting the party. For a brief moment, a soft warmth flickered in his gaze.

"Looks like you're about to walk into the graveyard of marriage," Anton teased, releasing his hand from Natasha slender waist. With a grin, he added, "But congratulations on finding your true love."

With that, Anton turned and walked toward the nearest cover model.

"It seems he doesn't value your presence, beautiful lady," Tony said, narrowing his eyes as he addressed Natasha.

"My name is Natasha," she replied calmly, introducing herself. There was no trace of anger or embarrassment in her tone as she continued, "He just my employer."

"Is that so?" Tony replied noncommittally, watching as Anton quickly charmed the first cover model and escorted her toward the second.

The two women, each uniquely stunning, were soon giggling under Anton charm.

It wasn't long before Anton had gathered a third, then a fourth, and eventually the fifth and sixth.

By the time half an hour had passed, Anton returned to Tony, flanked by all ten Playboy cover models.

"Tony, I'll take this as your surrender!"

"Truly an unfair victory," Anton said, grinning ear to ear, surrounded by ten gorgeous women, his arms draped around two of them. His happiness was undeniable.

Standing nearby, Natasha maintained her polite smile as her gaze flicked between Anton and the dazzling models. For the first time, she began to question the accuracy of SHIELD intelligence.

Anton behavior and Batman modus operandi seemed to be worlds apart.

Unbeknownst to her, Tony Stark had already come to his own conclusion.

Watching Anton bask in his triumph, Tony lips twitched slightly, and the corners of his mouth tightened.

Why in the world did I ever think this guy could be Batman?

I must still be suffering from residual brain damage from my time in Afghanistan!

"Good luck tonight," Tony said smoothly, giving Anton a casual wave before heading to a quiet corner. Once there, he issued a command to J.A.R.V.I.S.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., send a message to my personal doctor. I want him here first thing tomorrow morning with all the necessary equipment to run a full brain scan."

Muttering under his breath, Tony added, "Dammit, my brain is my most valuable asset. I can't afford for anything to be wrong with it."

"Tony, why did you call your private doctor?"

Pepper Potts overheard Tony instructions to J.A.R.V.I.S., and her expression immediately shifted to one of concern.

"It nothing," Tony quickly reassured her. "Just a routine check-up!"

...

Elsewhere.

Anton turned to Natasha and said, "Perhaps it time we headed back to the hotel!"

"Are you sure?" Natasha glanced at the ten Playboy cover models surrounding Anton and replied, "I wouldn't want to interrupt your... evening."

"You're not interrupting at all. With you, it twelve people—just enough for three tables of mahjong!"

Anton burst into laughter.

Under the envious, jealous, and resentful gazes of onlookers, Anton, with Natasha and the ten stunning models in tow, headed to a luxurious Los Angeles hotel.

There, they spent the entire night playing mahjong.

By dawn, Anton had even managed to win a few thousand dollars.

Oh, and don't ask why a Los Angeles hotel had mahjong tables—three, no less!

The answer is simple: when you're rich, anything is possible.