Tony Stark

"So... why are we here? You want to steal some race cars to modify?" the old bartender asked, somewhat speechless.

New Jersey is located in the northeastern part of America, not far from New York. Ocean City is a coastal city with convenient transportation and a prosperous commercial trade. The two of them drove there, taking a shortcut into Ocean City. Not long before, they found a place to disguise themselves for convenience. The old bartender, who had been on the run for years, was skilled at makeup, as disguising himself was a basic survival skill for him.

At Donnie's repeated insistence, the two came to the largest and most famous racetrack in the area, just as a race was about to begin.

The spectators were packed in from all directions, the vast stands completely full. The fervent atmosphere and explosive emotions were astonishing. People were seen waving flags and blowing horns, cheering wildly.

"To meet someone, a very interesting person, a playboy and arms dealer tycoon. I never expected to run into him here."

Donnie stared at the racetrack, scratching his head from time to time. The wig was extremely uncomfortable, but luckily it was just worn, not glued on like the old bartender's.

The announcer opened the broadcast, enthusiastically speaking to all the spectators, with a special emphasis on one of the racers. Every word he spoke further ignited the already fiery atmosphere, bringing it to a near-frenzied state! Especially some young and beautiful women, who were screaming wildly, flushed with excitement, looking as if they were about to faint.

"Let's welcome our final racer, the renowned genius, the helmsman of Stark Industries – Tony Stark!"

The entire venue erupted instantly. Countless spectators leaped to their feet, roaring and screaming. Horns blared one after another, and countless bright flags waved. The entire spectator stands seemed to have water suddenly thrown into a boiling oil pan, a scene of jubilation.

"Tony! Tony! Look over here! Oh, God, I can't take it, he's so handsome, so charming. I think he's even more handsome than Wayne... I'm going to faint!" A young married woman clutched her chest, her prominent breasts rising and falling with her rapid breaths, causing the onlookers to stare intently.

The old bartender was also shocked by the crowd's frenzy. He leaned close to Donnie's ear and shouted, "You came all this way just to see him? What's so great about him? Let's go take care of our business!"

Ever since they set out, the old bartender had been thinking about killing the vampires, wanting to make those creatures pay a heavy price with his own hands.

On the track, a middle-aged man waved his arms in all directions. Every movement elicited another cheer from the audience, until only one unified voice remained from all the stands: "Stark! Stark! Stark!"

The middle-aged man bowed deeply to the audience, his movements flawless. He then blew several kisses towards the areas with more women, causing many of them to faint from excitement.

Even from a distance, Donnie could feel the overwhelming aura of showmanship.

Some men were jealous and envious, muttering to each other with extreme dissatisfaction and admiration.

"Did you hear? Stark, that playboy, slept with the cover girl of the latest issue again last night. That's incredible. Did he sleep with all the cover girls from last year's 'Maxim'?"

"Gossip from the tabloids says he couldn't fit the March cover girl into his schedule, so he had to reluctantly let her go. But the December issue had twins. That guy really did sleep with all twelve."

"I'm handsome too, why don't women come to me?"

A mature woman, dressed alluringly, heard the voice and turned with interest to glance at the self-proclaimed handsome man. It was a lecherous old man, likely seventy or eighty years old. She turned back and immediately felt like vomiting.

Donnie let out a snicker, unable to hold back his laughter.

"What's so funny, young man? Do you have a problem with my good looks?" the boasting old man asked irritably. "When I was young, I was a heartthrob too."

The old man placed his hand on Donnie's shoulder. However, Donnie's hair was a bit long, and he accidentally tugged on a few strands, pulling off the entire wig...

A dazzling bald head was revealed to the world, reflecting countless rays of sunlight and blinding countless innocent onlookers without warning, drawing a chorus of curses!

"Who's so inconsiderate? Did they bring a mirror here? What happened to basic decency?"

A few burly men, blinded by the light, cursed and looked around, intending to find the person with the mirror and beat them up.

Donnie's face darkened, and he glared fiercely at the old man. "I hate it when people touch my hair the most. You're finished! Don't think I won't hit old people!"

The old man looked sheepish. He was initially a bit embarrassed, but upon hearing Donnie's words, his temper flared up. "What's the matter? It's just a bald head. You're allowed to be bald, but others aren't allowed to look? I was a fitness enthusiast when I was young. Try hitting me! Young people nowadays are so clueless. Guys like Donnie, leading the charge with that Shamatte style, corrupting the youth. I didn't expect to meet another bald guy like you today. You must use a lot of sunscreen on your head, right? Otherwise, why would it be so shiny!"

More and more people joined the search for the mirror, as another group of people had their eyes blinded. They shouted loudly, demanding to find the hateful culprit. What kind of mirror would be in the spectator stands? It was utterly excessive.

"You, you, you..." Donnie glared fiercely at the old man, feeling wronged and helpless. He quickly put on the wig, uttered a final threat, and turned to leave, slinking away dejectedly.

The old bartender followed behind him, amused. He cackled with laughter, mocking Donnie for using so much sunscreen, which angered Donnie enough to kick him.

"You still haven't told me, why exactly are you here to see that Stark guy? That guy has a high status and is incredibly talented. All the big shots in America support him. Everyone wants him to build more powerful weapons. Do you want him to build you a war chariot?" the old bartender asked, dusting himself off and chasing after Donnie.

"Would you believe me if I said I was attracted by the promotional slogans along the way... Alright, I'm considering investing in Stark Industries. I want to buy some shares in the Stark family. Making money grow is the fastest way to get rich." Donnie explained. He already had eight or nine million dollars, and with the upcoming raid on Deacon, they would also seize a batch of valuables, antiques, and calligraphy and paintings. Once cashed out, he would have over ten million dollars, which he planned to invest entirely in Stark Industries shares.

The old bartender scoffed. Ten million dollars seemed like a lot, but when thrown into a trillion-dollar conglomerate like Stark Industries, it would barely make a ripple.

"Not many people will easily sell shares in Stark Industries, and those who do will ask for a very high price," the old bartender said.

"Don't worry about that, just watch," Donnie said. He knew very well that when Stark disappeared, and after his return when he announced the closure of the weapons division, the stock price of Stark Industries would plummet. That would be the best time for him to make his move.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark removed his helmet, revealing a face covered in sweat. He often participated in thrilling activities like racing in his youth. In recent years, he hadn't had as much fun as today because some people would always stop him and prevent him from participating in such dangerous events.

Tony slowly walked towards the restroom, his loyal bodyguard Happy standing like a tower outside the door. He wanted to follow him in, but Tony, in his usual proud manner, refused.

"Happy, I don't like having a man staring intently at my back while I'm using the restroom. Just stand by the door," Tony said.

However, what he didn't know was that several strangely dressed individuals who had been lying in wait in the restroom were quietly preparing. As soon as Tony entered and let his guard down, they instantly grabbed him from behind, and a piece of cloth was immediately pressed over his mouth and nose.

In his last moments of consciousness, Tony managed to catch a glimpse of several figures, completely wrapped up, surrounding him. The gazes behind their lenses seemed to hold mockery.