I Want to Be a Driver

"You're right."

Tony sat down beside Harry in a daze. Pepper, at a loss, could only stand by his side.

"What did I say? We may both be in the same business, but he's undoubtedly far more sinister. People like him lack the ability to create and develop, so they tend to resort to the most primitive methods—plundering and stealing existing achievements."

"And we all know that's a dead end."

Harry had always looked down on people like that. Given the chance, he naturally tore into him without mercy.

"And you? Why are you helping me? You want this, don't you?" Tony looked genuinely shaken as he openly showed Harry the reactor in his chest.

Harry merely smiled and pulled something from his bag that Tony could scarcely believe:

An almost identical Arc Reactor—or rather, the thing Tony called an Arc Reactor.

"That's impossible!" Tony was beyond stunned, nearly leaping to his feet. "How did you get this?!"

"You make it sound like I stole it from you. Take it back and examine it properly. I made this before you even returned to the country." Harry casually pushed the reactor toward Tony. "This is the third round you've lost, Mr. Iron Man."

"What? You... Jarvis, compare the voiceprints."

"Sir, the voiceprint match is 99.8%. They are the same person."

The tremendous shock left Tony struggling to breathe. He paced back and forth without stopping, seemingly lost in thought.

"You see, if I were the same kind of person as that bald guy, I would've sold this thing long ago. Replace the Power Armor's energy supply with this, and the Military would be overjoyed."

"No! You can't do that."

Tony was highly agitated.

It seemed the public speculation about Tony had not been wrong. He really had developed mild post-traumatic stress disorder.

He had changed from a carefree playboy and arms dealer into a humanitarian who placed all responsibility upon himself.

But that also had something to do with his personality—he was Howard's adopted son. Once someone like him had been sheltered beneath another person's umbrella, he would begin hoping to become someone who could shelter others as well.

Simply put, he wasn't a bad person.

"I didn't do that, but I have my own considerations. I'm only saying that I'm not someone like Obadiah, who does everything for money."

After a brief silence, Tony spoke first.

"Then what is your purpose?"

Thinking calmly, Tony had to admit that Harry was telling the truth. Compared with Obadiah, he and Harry actually had more in common.

But neither did he think Harry had developed the same intense anti-war sentiments as himself. So what exactly was he after?

Tony felt a little uncomfortable—he couldn't see through this eighteen-year-old brat.

"Have you ever squeezed onto a bus?"

Of course not. The question was downright idiotic. Tony thought that any car in his garage was worth more than a dozen buses, not to mention his private yachts and planes.

"There are only so many seats on a bus, so people usually advocate giving them up for vulnerable groups. That's considered a virtue—or rather, a social responsibility."

"Now, you, Tony Stark, are an enthusiastic young man. Every time you ride a bus, you give up your seat to those vulnerable groups."

"But one day, you fail to get a seat. A frail old man gets on the bus, but no one gives up their seat for him."

Harry spread his hands.

"I don't have a seat to give up either. I can only watch it happen." Tony was beginning to understand what Harry meant. "So you want to be someone who always has a seat?"

"I want to be the driver." Harry smiled—or rather, the owner of the vehicle.

"I didn't expect you to be a philosopher too." Tony fell into thought. "So where would you drive the bus?"

"To the docks for some fries."

"Huh?"

Harry's nonsensical answer broke Tony's train of thought.

He wasn't lying. Those were all his genuine feelings, but he didn't think Tony could understand his thoughts right now.

A person's experiences shaped their personality. With the memories of an ordinary man's previous life, Harry's deepest desire was still to live an easy, comfortable life.

Of course, he might have to be somewhat radical to achieve that goal.

"Anyway, I'm not your enemy. On the contrary, you now know who the person you really need to watch out for is. If you need help, call me. Though I'll need your help too."

Stark could help Harry in many ways.

Not to mention his brain and all those miraculous little inventions—such as Jarvis, whom Harry had coveted for a long time.

Stark Industries itself also possessed a powerful network of connections in politics, especially within the Military.

Harry said no more and turned to leave.

He had said what needed to be said. Tony would figure it out himself, while Harry had his own matters to handle.

As for dealing with Obadiah for him in advance, forget it. Helping someone in their hour of need was far more meaningful than adding flowers to brocade.

There were only three weeks left until the election. He couldn't afford to relax now.

"Father, how's the air in Washington?" Harry asked as he opened a video call.

"Not bad. The power grid project is moving along smoothly. It's a hot commodity now—quite a few big shots are hoping to use it to extend their terms in office."

The situation was more or less what Harry had expected.

Now that Osborn Company had mastered Nuclear Fusion, most old-fashioned power companies would be ground into the dirt.

"There's one more thing... the Department of Energy seems interested in purchasing the technology."

That was only natural.

No matter how foolish a politician was, they could not simply stand by and let a single company control the nation's energy lifeline.

That would cost extra.

"As for that, Father, we can share the benefits with several major energy companies, but the actual control of the grid must remain in our hands."

"That was my thinking as well. I've already sent them the details. They should be contacting you soon with their terms."

Father and son exchanged smiles. It seemed Norman had arranged everything long ago.

"By the way, Father, is General Ross in Washington? I haven't heard anything about him in a long time."

"No. I heard he's commanding a secret operation and is often impossible to reach. What do you need him for?"

A secret operation... so he was going after Hulk.

Harry toyed with the USB Drive in his hand.

It contained the Neural Implant General Ross had commissioned him to create.

When they had previously discussed the military prosthetics project, General Ross had provided Harry with some data—data on Hulk.

He wanted Harry to create a Neural Implant capable of suppressing Hulk's movements.

But in Harry's view—it was nearly impossible.

The data General Ross had provided looked intimidating, but put together, it still described a carbon-based organism.

Yet Hulk's actual performance far exceeded that of any carbon-based organism. To control Hulk, Ross's data was insufficient, and Harry's technology still needed further innovation.

Still... he did have a Neural Implant that could help Banner control his emotions.

"It's just that one of my previous projects has reached a conclusion. If you can get in touch with him, have him contact me."