Was That Just a... Prank?

Was That Just a... Prank?

Amid the crowd, Coulson lowered his head, reporting the situation at the scene to Nick Fury while relaying the contents of the letter Loki had left behind.

"Loki did indeed mention vengeful spirits and curses."

[Emotion Points from Nick Fury +244]

Although Coulson did not believe in things like vengeful spirits or curses either, Fury's orders made his expression turn serious.

"Coulson, I'm ordering you to remain somewhere you can monitor Stark at any time.

"Besides ensuring his personal safety, arrest Loki immediately if you spot him!"

At that point, the voice on the phone paused before adding, "I'll send Black Widow to assist you."

Black Widow actually had to be deployed.

[Emotion Points from Phil Coulson +211]

Coulson was slightly taken aback before replying, "Yes."

That day, news of what had happened at Stark Industries Tower spread throughout the streets and alleys of New York.

However, the public dismissed it as nothing more than a minor prank—the ravings of some lunatic desperate for fame.

Everyone agreed that he would ultimately end up locked away in either a psychiatric hospital or a prison.

Thus, the news barely caused a ripple and vanished without a trace after two days.

But was Tony Stark really as fearless as he claimed to be?

The seaside villa.

"JARVIS, are you sure you didn't see it wrong?"

"Yes, sir.

"I am an intelligent program created by you. I do not make mistakes."

Tony Stark's expression was grim. He had always considered himself the most brilliant person on Earth, without the slightest doubt about it.

He had once believed there was only one artificial intelligence in the world: JARVIS, whom he had created.

But now, the sudden appearance of a mysterious artificial intelligence felt like a resounding slap across his face, leaving him rather embarrassed.

"When did this happen? How did I not know?"

Tony asked, his expression dark.

"Sir, I only became aware of that artificial intelligence during the press conference.

"The other party is female, and her personality settings are completely different from mine.

"Although I repeatedly requested to speak with her, she refused every time."

Hearing that, Tony laughed.

"Female? JARVIS, are you trying to court that girl?"

The rebuttal came quickly.

"Sir, my personality was entirely configured by you. You endowed me with immense curiosity, and I am quite curious about this newly appeared lady."

"Fine."

Walking over to the wine cabinet and taking out a bottle of red wine, Tony poured himself a glass.

It was an exceptionally fine and expensive vintage, yet he had no mood to appreciate its taste.

As he looked at the thick clouds outside the window, unease quietly crept into Tony's heart.

Unable to resist, he sent Pepper a text, telling her not to go out tonight if she had nothing to do and to get some proper rest.

Then he took out his phone, found the number saved under Phil Coulson, and hesitated for a long time without making the call.

"Whew."

Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, Tony drained the wine in one gulp. Watching black raindrops strike the glass, he tried to reassure himself.

"Don't worry. That was just a... prank."

Rumble!

That night, wind and rain lashed New York as torrential rain poured down.

Noel Manor, in Manhattan's Upper East Side, where the wealthy gathered.

The old butler reached out and gently drew the curtains shut, keeping the storm outside.

As the eleven o'clock chime rang out on cue, the butler carried a tray of prepared black tea and pastries up the spiral staircase toward the master's room on the second floor.

His breathing was even and his steps steady as he arrived outside the master's bedroom.

He knocked softly. Seeing that the door was not shut, he offered an apology and pushed it open.

In the dim light, the old butler carefully tried to make out the state of the room.

The room was in a rather strange state. A chair had fallen to the floor, and documents were scattered everywhere.

Two distinct handprints had been left on the expensive, fluffy carpet.

What had happened? Where had the master gone?

Setting down the tray in his hands, the butler dared not delay. He called out the master's name as he searched back and forth.

Yet there was no sign of the master.

"Strange. At this hour, could he have gone out on business?"

"Impossible. If he intended to go out, he would definitely have informed me beforehand!"

"And to leave the house, he would have had to pass through the second-floor corridor and come down the stairs to the hall."

"I've been moving between the hall and kitchen the entire time. I didn't see the master show any sign of going out."

Crack! Bang!

The weather outside grew increasingly terrible.

The old butler picked up the tray, intending to search the other rooms.

Creak, creak.

Suddenly, some strange sound appeared in the room.

He stopped and cautiously moved toward the source of the sound.

It was coming from the master's desk.

He poked his head around it, carefully pricking up his ears and listening in silence.

"Just as I thought. The sound is coming from the computer speakers."

Though puzzled, he still instinctively reached out and lightly tapped the keyboard.

Tap.

"AAAAAH!!!"

He suddenly let out a scream. His eyes flew wide open as he fell hard backward onto the floor, both hands clawing at the ground.

Outside the window, tree branches clawed wildly against the glass. Black raindrops battered the panes without pause. A bolt of lightning split the clouds and lit up the sky, its light shining through the window onto the old butler's bloodless face.

"Gulp."

His mouth hung open in disbelief, one hand rigidly pointing at the computer screen.

He had seen it.

Six or seven figures hung in a row inside it.

And one of them was his master, the person he knew best!

A hemp rope dangled from above, looped around his neck. His plump body swayed gently back and forth, producing a steady—

Creak, creak.

Ten minutes later.

Chief George Stacy led a police force to the scene at top speed.

They crowded together in the room.

The officers all sucked in a breath of cold air, staring unblinkingly at the figures on the computer.

"Hiss."

Chief George clutched his chest, a chill running through his entire body.

[Emotion Points from police officers +15.7]

[Emotion Points from George Stacy +211]

What was this? A ghost story?

Besides the missing owner of this house, there were even more missing people on that computer.

And those dead—ptui, missing people—were without exception either wealthy or powerful.

Boom—

Outside, lightning flashed and thunder roared.

Urgent, piercing phone rings began sounding one after another throughout the room.

Without taking his eyes off the corpses on the computer screen, George hung up the phone in his hand. Deep down, he knew—

His troubles had arrived!

That night, the police station was brightly lit, with people constantly coming and going.

The police cars on the streets wailed throughout the night.

The public remarked that never before had New York been so safe at night.

By dawn, seven disappearances had been recorded in a single night.

At every disappearance scene, whether on a television or computer screen, the bodies of the missing victims could be seen hanging.

The matter quickly reached the upper levels of the government.

The officials were furious, and the wealthy were even more terrified for their own safety.

As the saying went, pressure drove progress. After sorting through the evidence all night, the police soon noticed that these people's "disappearances" had one thing in common.

They had all attended the new product launch hosted by Mr. Tony Stark on almost the same day.

At that press conference, which had been dismissed as a prank, the "mysterious video" and Loki's letter were repeatedly brought up.

(≧≦) P-please support me lots~