To-Do List Confirmed
After reading the report, Black Super put the documents back into his briefcase. He reset everything, including the combination lock, and returned it to its original place in the room.
It was as if the briefcase had never been taken, and he had never been there.
Retrieve the listening device secretly placed on John Garrett. Such a sophisticated instrument is extremely difficult to remake, especially now that his superpowers in both eyes have been completely lost and the future is uncertain; therefore, it cannot be used as a consumable.
Back on the rooftop, Black Super was reviewing the information and contemplating his next move.
The Alien Research Institute has been operating for nearly twenty years. In addition to using myself as a research subject, the spacecraft that carried me to Earth was also originally a research project of the institute.
In the later stages, the spacecraft was taken away by other research units, leaving the Alien Research Institute with only its own living specimen project.
Over such a long period, the institute experienced a turnover of personnel, involving thousands of people.
However, among those qualified to contact him or the core personnel who could handle matters related to him, including Director Peter Thaddeus Ross, there were only a mere forty-seven people.
Twenty-three of them were rescued from Russia by S.H.I.E.L.D.. agents and brought to the United States. They are currently in this hotel.
Nineteen people were marked as dead. It cannot be ruled out that there were false alarms. Director Peter Thaddeus Ross was one of the very few people whose deaths could be confirmed.
Of the remaining five, three were not in as dire straits as the others, and therefore refused to accept help from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D..
The other two are imprisoned in special prisons in Siberia. They were deemed not worth the cost of rescuing, so they are still serving their sentences in prison.
Of the three who did well, one was a torture expert who joined the new BSF.
She became the wife of a natural gas tycoon. Combining the resources she controlled, she enabled her husband to thrive.
The last one arrived in the United States early on and was recruited by Norman Osborn with a high salary to Oscorp.
So, do I have a total of twenty-eight tasks to complete?
He changed out of his Black Super and returned to his hotel.
Although I always emphasize that I don't want to fall into a life of chasing hatred, it seems like I'd be doing myself a disservice if someone had already brought their enemy to my doorstep.
Just recently, his girlfriend, with whom he was having a great relationship, broke up with him. Aside from going crazy and collecting Infinity Stones to the Snap again, he couldn't do anything to win her back. His entire life trajectory was changed, and this can't be explained by simple amnesia.
Adding to the problem are the eye issues, and the anxiety about whether there's any hope of recovery is also troubling me, so I'd say my mood has been quite low lately.
At times like these, some activities that allow for emotional release are really needed. Since someone has willingly walked into the line of fire, why not pull the trigger?
Thinking of this, Henry, who should have been sleepless that night, surprisingly fell into a deep sleep. In his dream, he seemed to be on the bank of a river flowing with the blood of his enemies, chasing and playing with his lost girlfriend.
The composition is dreamlike, like a movie scene. The laughing men and women are full of happiness, casually picking up broken human limbs and torsos and playfully throwing them at their partners.
With her brightest smile, the girlfriend scooped up the blood from the river of blood. The scene, which should have been shimmering with light, would have been even more beautiful What If...? it weren't for the eyeball in her palm.
Nearby, skeletons Zombies were dancing the hula. A large, fat man dressed in a summer floral shirt, stitched up like a corpse, was drooling as he played the ukulele.
But his girlfriend's appearance and figure gradually faded. In the end, he couldn't even see or remember what she looked like anymore. All that remained was this Hell scene made of blood and corpses, along with the music and joyful laughter echoing in the space.
Henry slept soundly and felt refreshed, as if his entire body was flowing with the Otaku happy water, feeling clear and relaxed.
What If...? Henry hadn't been disturbed by the phone call by the hotel bed, it wouldn't have been surprising if he had slept until noon. These days, Kitty had been jumping on the bed and bouncing around so much that he was practically craving roasted Tiger.
"Hello, who is it?" Henry asked groggily, half-awake.
A hurried voice came from the other end of the phone, saying, "Come to my house quickly, don't keep me waiting too long." Then the call ended.
"You son of a bitch, are you calling a dog? Tony the dog. Who knows where you live? Do you think I'm some kind of paparazzi?" Henry cursed at the air as the phone went dead.
Deciding to ignore the overly self-conscious guy, Henry wrapped himself in his blanket, ready to go back to sleep. However, the knocking on the door was too much for the Kryptonian with his excellent hearing to ignore.
He opened his eyes and stared blankly, only to realize that his superpower of sight was gone. Dragging his inexplicably weary body, he went to the door and loudly proclaimed, "I don't need cleaning service."
A woman's voice came from outside the door, saying, "Mr. Brown, I am Virginia Potts, President Tony Stark's personal assistant. I've come to take you to Mr. Stark's private residence."
Potts... that's the last name. Out of curiosity, Henry opened the door a crack, just enough to catch the security latch at its limit.
The red-haired Caucasian woman outside the door, though dressed in an office lady suit, looked quite young, with a few freckles on her face. Judging from her upright posture, she had the potential to be a model. She seemed to be a girl who had recently graduated from university.
Seeing the door open slightly, Virginia Potts immediately greeted, "Mr. Brown, I..."
"I understand. Please wait in the lobby on the first floor. I'll be down in five minutes."
"Okay." The person in the room looked unkempt, as if they had just woken up. Virginia Potts certainly wouldn't act like a petty debt collector, insisting on entering the room or waiting at the door.
In fact, the standard business etiquette is to wait in the hotel lobby and have the hotel staff relay the message by phone. It was only because of her boss's strange request that she went upstairs to knock on the door. Now it's just back to the way it was.
Henry closed the door again, yawned, stood there for two or three minutes to calm himself down and get his brain working. Then, he used Super Speed to clean himself up and put on the suit that made him look presentable.
As Henry rode the elevator downstairs, he pondered a question. The future Iron Man would live a life of luxury, residing in a Malibu Beach villa in Los Angeles and commuting to New York during the day. How did he rationalize this West Coast- to- East Coast commuting pattern?
A normal passenger flight from Los Angeles to New York takes five and a half hours. Even without private jets or private airports, this commuting pattern is practically absurd.
So the question is, where is this guy's home in New York?
The answer was soon revealed: contrary to Henry's expectations of having a place on Manhattan's Upper East Side, the Stark Family's driver headed towards Long Island, until they reached a manor house in the Hamptons.
This is a summer retreat for New York's wealthy, not their residence, because it takes more than two hours to drive there from Manhattan.
The truly wealthy wouldn't choose this place as their home. Those who only know how to chase money their whole lives naturally live on the Upper East Side to Wall Street. Only the less fortunate would venture outwards.
This shows that Tony Stark's thought process is different from that of ordinary wealthy people who chase money. He dares to waste the irreplaceable and precious resource of "time" and does not choose to live in the city center.