"Hammer Industries, huh..."
Kraft drew out the words.
"The company that mostly lives off Stark's scraps? Not bad, as imitators go."
That single word, "imitator," hit Justin Hammer right where it hurt. He copied Tony Stark in every respect and constantly presented himself to the media as Stark's formidable rival.
But only Justin Hammer himself knew how much he hated Tony Stark-and how much he hated being called Stark's imitator...
Even if that was exactly what he was.
"Slade, your friend doesn't seem very polite..." The smile on Justin's face stiffened. He narrowed his eyes at Kraft and threatened him in an ominous tone. "I can understand youthful recklessness, but let me offer you some advice. There are plenty of things you're better off not saying, or something unfortunate might happen to you."
"You needn't concern yourself with that, Mr. Hammer."
A low voice sounded behind Justin Hammer as Martin Lee approached, his expression grim.
"My business may be modest, but protecting my own child shouldn't be a problem. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Hammer?"
Racial discrimination was commonplace in America, but at Martin Lee's level, the authorities were unlikely to make trouble for him over it. If nothing else, that Medal of Freedom they had awarded him for appearances served as an overt shield.
Unless Martin did something that seriously damaged the American government's interests, a personal grudge like this would, at most, get a few officials friendly with Hammer to lend him a hand on the side. They certainly wouldn't get too deeply involved.
"Hahaha, I was just joking with the kids!"
Justin Hammer gave a couple of dry laughs, exchanged a few meaningless pleasantries with Martin Lee, then pulled Slade away.
"You little rascal. Can't you stay out of trouble for once?"
Martin Lee tapped Kraft on the