Charity Gala Dinner

"Mr. Stark, if you keep staring at my date, I might get a little angry."

Tony shook Harry's hand while staring unblinkingly at Heli beside him, leaving Harry rather helpless.

"Uh... of course, sorry. But what's her name? Is she mixed-race?" Tony turned back to him.

"Heli Rachel. She has some Asian ancestry. Don't get any ideas—your date is still waiting over there."

Harry pointed at Pepper in the distance, and Tony immediately stared blankly again.

"Thanks for the reminder... I need to go discuss something with her first. Excuse me."

Harry raised a brow and looked at Heli, who was quietly snickering beside him.

"This dress looks familiar. Is it the one we bought in Italy?"

"No, it was the one from France. Back then, you were still a gentleman—or rather, a minor." Heli shrugged. "Your behavior really doesn't seem conducive to developing relationships with women. You actually forgot something that important."

Thinking about it carefully, it did seem like that had happened.

At the time, Heli had still been pursuing her business degree. She had been around eighteen or nineteen, while he had been even younger—only fifteen.

Though even now, he was only eighteen.

Just as the two reminisced about the past, a man with a somewhat receding hairline approached them with a smile.

"Mr. Osborn."

"And you are?" Harry sized the man up and immediately understood who he was.

"Agent Coulson. Homeland Strategic Defense, Attack, and Logistics Support Agency." Coulson nodded as he greeted them both.

"An agent? Looks like I should excuse myself." Heli looked between them and patted Harry on the shoulder.

"Don't hang around Stark, and don't accept anyone's invitations. Sit off to the side like a lady, okay?"

His words earned him an eye roll—there was no helping it; changing his ingrained way of thinking was still difficult.

"So, Agent Coulson, what does your... whatever department want to discuss? I thought you were here for Stark today."

Coulson took out a satellite image. It appeared to show some suburban area of New York, with a blurry little black dot in the picture.

"The night before last, we detected an unidentified high-speed flying object by satellite. According to the image, it seems to have departed from your residence on the outskirts of New York..."

Harry looked at the image and smiled.

"I don't know where you got this image, but it's fake. It's been digitally altered, and it has nothing to do with me."

In truth, the image had been forged with impressive skill. Harry could not tell at all that it was fake.

But the problem was that there was only one flying object in the image.

That night, he and Tony had held a supersonic race. Before Tony's test flight, he had already dealt with the satellites—by sheer coincidence, he had also covered for Harry. S.H.I.E.L.D. could not possibly have captured the two of them racing.

Coulson was a little dumbfounded. They had been masters of deception for years, so why had Harry denied it outright without even a moment's hesitation?

"Oh, right. You said you're some kind of homeland strategy-whatever agency. I'd like to report something under my real name."

Harry took out his phone and opened the New York City Power Grid Layout.

"While maintaining the power grid recently, I noticed some irregularities in the electricity consumption at these locations. So I investigated further and found that electrical energy was being concentrated in a mysterious area from these points."

Harry drew a circle on the map.

As Harry did so, cold sweat began pouring down Coulson's back.

"Here. The power consumption is absurdly high. Based on my calculations, someone may be carrying out underground construction work here, but I checked, and New York City has no related construction plans. I was considering whether I should report this."

Coulson screamed inwardly: Stop talking! Stop talking!

"But since your agency seems to handle homeland security, I'll tell only you. This looks like it runs deep, after all, and I'm just an ordinary businessman. Agent Coulson, what's wrong?"

Coulson wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"This is an extremely serious matter! Thank you for the information. We'll begin investigating immediately!"

Harry smiled. He had them right where he wanted them.

S.H.I.E.L.D. was under the United Nations, and in truth, it was a very poor organization—at least for now.

But its leader was both a paranoid maniac and a mole. Without a secret base, he never felt safe—he was probably scraping together pennies to dig holes underground everywhere right now.

In other words, it was something that could not stand the light, especially now, when the threat was not yet apparent.

"Then I'll leave it to you. If you don't mind, I'm going to enjoy the party."

The gala soon approached its end.

After dancing, Harry began drinking at the bar.

"Two vodka martinis. Not sweet, extra olives, and make it quick." Tony came over, apparently fetching drinks for Pepper.

"Meeting again. Where's your date?" Stark noticed Harry and took the initiative to strike up a conversation.

"Over there." Harry pointed into the distance, where Heli was talking with someone beside the fountain. "Where's yours?"

"Outside." Stark suddenly frowned. "Have we met somewhere before? Your voice sounds very familiar."

Harry smiled but did not answer.

"Wow, Tony Stark, and Stark Industries' new director, Harry Osborn. You're both here—discussing some big deal?" A woman joined the conversation.

Harry said nothing. He glanced at Tony, who was stammering as well, staring fixedly at the woman as if trying to remember something.

"Christine," the woman helped Tony recall.

"Right, Christine." Tony nodded awkwardly.

Harry remembered her too. She had come to demand answers—Stark Industries had recently been caught up in a scandal.

Tony was understandably confused by the news. After all, ever since returning, he had spent several months up in the mountains.

So he looked at Harry.

"In a town called Gemira, armed militants were found carrying weapons stamped with the Stark Industries name." Harry took the drink the bartender had mixed. "The one you invented... what was it called, Jerimico or something?"

"Jericho." Tony looked utterly incredulous. "Show me the photos."

In the photo, a group of armed militants stood before the camera. Frightened civilians were in front of them, while weapons bearing the Stark name stood behind them.

"Yeah, it was taken yesterday. I've seen it." Harry leaned in as well.

"What's going on? I never approved this." Tony looked at Harry. "Did you have something to do with it? You're new here. This has never happened before."

Faced with Tony's questioning, Harry swirled his glass.

"I thought you would've accepted the truth in Afghanistan, Tony. Stark has been doing this for a long time."

Harry's words left Tony unable to argue. He had seen those weapons with his own eyes!

"Also, do you know why there hasn't been a single word about this?"

Harry took out his phone and opened an internal Stark Industries document.

It proposed removing Tony Stark from the management team while retaining only his shares.

Signed by: Obadiah Stane.

"If you don't believe it, you can ask him yourself. He's right outside."