A time traveler arrives in the Multiverse with an ability that turns confident assumptions into reality. If he believes an ordinary object should perform an impossible task, the rules of the world may simply adjust to make it happen. A bicycle can rise into the sky, common equipment can behave far beyond its normal limits, and even the human body can ignore expectations that should be absolute. The power sounds convenient, but every new idea raises a larger question: if reality keeps obeying what he thinks is “scientific,” how long will it be before no one—including him—can tell where logic ends and imagination begins?
Chapter 47: 046: The Fool Left Out in the Cold
“I am Iron Man… Do you think you’re the only superhero out there?” In the evening, Tony Stark returned to his beachfront villa, only to be stopped at the door by a bald man with a single eye so dark it barely reflected light. “Mr. Stark, there are actually many people just like you—you just don’t know it.” “Who are you? A super-hero fanatic?” Stark raised an eyebrow mockingly. He’d seen plenty of these guys who showed up out of the blue looking for a fight, but usually his security handled them—rarely did anyone manage to break through the cordon and get in front of him. As for what this coal-black-haired guy had said—people just like him. Stark thought back to that mouse plushie that had pinned his Mark II down and beaten it up, and his mood instantly soured. “Did my security let you slip through, or did you use some special trick?” The bald man standing before him, clad in a black leather jacket, exuded an imposing presence—he didn’t look like an ordinary person. Plus, he’d mentioned “superheroes” and the like; maybe he really did know something after all. Faced with Tony Stark’s flippant attitude, Nick Fury couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth. Truth be told, he didn’t want to be stopping Tony Stark at the door like some haters, but he had no choice—S. H. I. E. L. D. simply couldn’t breach the defense systems at Tony Stark’s home. Although this made their agency’s programmers look pretty incompetent, it also strengthened Nick Fury’s resolve to bring Tony Stark into his Avengers initiative. Stark’s home security system hadn’t always been so strict. However, after being hacked by Kraft, he’d upgraded JARVIS several times. On top of that, after Obadiah Stane had secretly infiltrated his home and nearly killed him, security checks on visitors had become much stricter—which meant Nick Fury couldn’t sneak into Stark’s house and show off like he’d planned. The absence of such a stylish entrance—appearing silently at Stark’s home—is precisely why Stark doesn’t take Nick Fury very seriously right now. “Nick Fury, Director of S. H. I. E. L. D.” Unable to intimidate Tony Stark as planned, Director Fury chose to get straight to the point and identify himself immediately. “S. H. I. E. L. D.? That agent… um…” “Coulson.” “Right, I was just about to say that.” Stark snapped his fingers and, without a hint of embarrassment, covered his slip, his attitude becoming just a tiny bit more composed—after all, Coulson had been quite helpful during the Obadiah incident. “Come in and have a seat.” Stark gave Fury a slight nod, then opened the villa’s front door. “Jarvis.” “Welcome back, sir.” Jarvis turned on the lights in the foyer, and Stark gestured casually for him to come in. “Make yourself at home. Would you like something to drink?” “No, thanks.” Nick Fury shook his head. As a seasoned veteran agent, he generally wouldn’t eat anything he hadn’t prepared himself—even at Tony Stark’s house. “So, what brings you here?” Stark poured himself a drink, plopped down right in the middle of the couch, and leaned back lazily. “I’d like to talk to you about forming the Avengers.” “The Avengers? What’s that? The name of a rock band? Sounds pretty good.” Stark swirled the glass in his hand, producing the crisp sound of ice clinking against the glass. “No, it’s an organization—or a team, if you will—that brings together people like you with special abilities.” Nick Fury ignored Stark’s teasing and explained. “Wow~ That’s a great idea,” Stark took a sip of his drink, then raised the corner of his mouth and asked Nick Fury, “So, how much are you planning to pay me?” That was his way of declining the offer. Given Tony Stark’s net worth, S. H. I. E. L. D. simply couldn’t afford his salary, no matter how much funding they had. Nick Fury understood the subtext. He gave Stark a meaningful look, then stood up to take his leave. “I’ll be back to see you.” “Make sure to make an appointment next time.” Stark raised his glass in a toast—a silent farewell. Kraft, who had been holed up in the lab lately, paid a long-overdue visit to the FEAST homeless shelter built by Martin Lee. Come to think of it, this was actually related to that guy Tony Stark. Because of his battle with Obadiah, New York City had seen a significant increase in the number of injured people. As a charitable organization, the FEAST shelter not only took in homeless people but also occasionally served as a temporary hospital for the poor who couldn’t afford hospital bills. Although Stark Industries had stepped in to cover the costs this time, in the United States—and especially in New York—money alone isn’t enough to secure a hospital bed, so the shelter was still taking in quite a few patients. Normally, this wouldn’t have much to do with Kraft, but Alice, being a soft-hearted robot, couldn’t bear to see others suffer. After learning about the situation, she often volunteered to help on her own. Since the shelter was short-staffed recently, she went to the lab and dragged Kraft—who was messing around with a wrench—into it as well. “Big brother! The patient in Bed 5 needs a dressing change! Quinn, help me throw these things in the trash.” When it came to caring for patients, Alice was like a completely different person—her personality became incredibly assertive. Not only did she boss Kraft around, but she even had Quinn, the dog, running errands for her. “Coming, coming…” Exchanging a glance with Quinn, who was running toward the trash can with a bag of trash in his mouth, Kraft resignedly walked toward Bed No. 5 with the bandages and medication. Could it be that the personality adjustments I made to Alice only come out at times like this? Sighing, Kraft skillfully changed the dressing on the patient in Bed No. 5. He’d been doing this since he was a child; back when he and Martin had just escaped from the Magia Gang, the two of them had been dealing with injuries almost every day. “Hey! Kraft! Your sister is way cuter than you are! You should learn a thing or two from her.” Just as he was busy, Peter Parker popped up out of nowhere, slapped Kraft on the shoulder, and teased him. Kraft turned his head and shot him a sidelong glance. Is he asking for a beating? This was the first time Peter Parker had ever come over on his own to provoke Kraft, which surprised him a little. Unfortunately, Peter’s defiance didn’t last long. After Kraft gave him a glance, he seemed to remember his past miserable experiences and immediately backed down. “By the way, how did you train Quinn? He’s really well-behaved.” True to form, Peter decisively changed the subject. However, Kraft didn’t respond; instead, he frowned and looked Peter up and down. “Wh-what’s wrong…” Taking a half-step back quietly, Peter Parker remained on his guard; given Kraft’s notorious track record, he couldn’t help but be cautious. Kraft continued to stare silently at Peter Parker, his gaze sweeping back and forth across Peter’s face, making him feel increasingly uneasy. Just as Peter Parker was about to bolt, Kraft finally spoke up. “Where are your glasses?”
