Jonah Jameson

"Tony and Anton are at it again!"

"Didn't you hear? They're playing a different game this time! I heard it's because of that actress by Tony's side!"

"Making a movie?"

"Now this is interesting!"

"It's making me want to get in on the action! There are so many actresses in Hollywood, and I haven't slept with that many! These two really know how to have fun!"

"Money isn't the issue. The main thing is, Anton actually wants to be a film director... Tsk tsk, has he lost his mind?"

"This is going to be a good show—way more exciting than making a movie!"

"If they made a movie about this bet and slapped Tony Stark's name on it, it'd definitely be a hit!"

A group of bored, filthy-rich second-generation heirs eagerly discussed Anton and Tony's wager.

Compared to that, the lavish dinner had already become tasteless to them.

All they wanted now was to keep chewing over the most exciting part.

"Have they both left?"

"No, they're still inside."

"They haven't started fighting yet. What about the bets we just placed?"

"Keep them open for now. We'll talk after the movie comes out."

"I heard that if Anton loses, he'll become Tony's bag-carrying lackey. Thrilling! So thrilling!"

The rich heirs hurried into the banquet hall and found that Tony had gained two more beauties at his side.

Anton was no different.

Though he had arrived without a female companion, he was hardly lacking women now.

As a wealthy young master, Anton's status carried considerable weight in New York, and the girls were happy to flock to him.

Besides, the wager between Tony and Anton had spread not only through the circle of rich heirs. Even the onlookers who had witnessed it firsthand were astonished.

Just to win a point, both sides had thrown down fifty million!

They were treating money like it was nothing!

"Anton, are you really going to make a movie?"

A stunningly beautiful, seductive woman clung to Anton, her cheek nearly pressed against his chest as her arms wrapped around him. She rubbed against his ear and murmured, "I think this movie is still missing a leading lady?"

"Hahaha, you're right!"

Anton unapologetically wrapped an arm around the beauty's waist and smiled. "Beautiful lady, are you interested in being my leading lady tonight?"

A night of pleasure.

The next day, Anton left the hotel refreshed and invigorated.

Before getting into the car, he casually tossed the beauty's contact information into the trash.

Daily Bugle.

Betty looked at Anton in surprise.

She had not expected him to show up at the newspaper office on time. It was practically the sun rising in the west.

"Betty, how long have you worked at the paper?"

What surprised her even more was that Anton asked her such a question the moment he saw her.

"About three years, from graduation until now," Betty answered.

Anton nodded. "You've always been the old man's assistant, and you know the paper's situation very well. From now on, you'll take over my work. I'll be at ease, and so will the old man."

"???"

Betty was utterly baffled.

"Then it's settled." Anton stood up, waved, and walked out of the office. "I'm going to discuss this with the old man right now."

"?"

Betty watched Anton leave without even looking back. She thought he had probably grown tired of playing around and wanted somewhere else to fool around.

But Jameson would probably fly into a rage.

Just as she expected.

Bang!!

In an upscale residential district in New York.

"You little bastard, do you think my Daily Bugle is a place you can come and go as you please?"

Jameson slapped the table, furious enough for his face and neck to turn red.

"Handing your life's work over to someone more reliable like Betty is absolutely the right decision." Anton stared at the old man in surprise. "Before I took over the paper, weren't you planning to groom Betty as your successor?"

"Bullshit!"

Jameson roared, "She's your assistant, and she can only ever be an assistant! The editor-in-chief's seat isn't for some little girl who only graduated a few years ago!"

"You're discriminating against women." Anton said. "As the owner of a newspaper, your ass is sitting on the wrong side!"

"Discriminating my ass!"

Jameson scoffed. "Even if I were, nobody would believe it if you told them! I'm New York's famous champion of equality. Aside from the mayor, even the councilmen have to watch my expression! You think you can threaten me?"

"I'm not threatening you. I just want you to speak properly."

Anton's expression did not change.

Although the old man before him was enraged and wore a ferocious expression, Anton truly did not find him the least bit frightening.

In his memories, Jonah Jameson was proudest of his son.

That was Anton's nominal father in this body. After one careless mistake, John Jameson had gotten his girlfriend pregnant at nineteen.

However, as an astronaut, John spent a quarter of every year on the space station, while the remaining three quarters were spent training and recuperating at the astronaut base. He had been out of sight for nearly a year, with very little time off.

Anton sifted through the memories in his mind and realized that his impression of his astronaut father was remarkably vague.

As for his mother, after giving birth to him, she had taken a breakup payment from Jameson and vanished for years. Who knew where she was off enjoying herself.

The person closest to him had thus become the sharp-tongued, soft-hearted old man before him, who, in the original plot, especially loved butting heads with a certain little spider who had yet to appear.

"Anyway, I'm done with the newspaper!"

Anton spoke decisively. "I'm going to make movies. To be honest, old man, I've already figured out what I want to make."

"You?"

Jameson was beside himself with anger and sneered, "Anton, I'm absolutely not paying for this! You'd be better off going next door to Hollywood to star in porn. Maybe you could earn enough for one night's drinking money."

Anton automatically ignored Jameson's foul mouth and shrugged casually. "I don't need your money. I've already found a sucker—oh, no, an investor!"

"Who?"

Jameson was greatly alarmed. "Is there really someone that stupid in this world?"

"I'm really glad to hear you say that."

Anton laughed heartily. "Because it's rare for two stubborn old fools like us to agree on something."

"Tell me who it is."

Jameson snorted. "Who would dare invest in you? I guarantee I'll go right up to him and laugh at him for being brain-dead."

"Tony."

"Your hairstylist?"

"..."

Anton fell silent for a moment, then said, "Tony from Stark Industries—the greatest genius inventor of the twenty-first century, an arms tycoon whose business spans the globe, a playboy who has slept with every magazine cover model. Also, the rare brain-dead idiot you were just talking about."

"..."

Jameson fell silent as well.

He opened his mouth, feeling that after only a few days of retirement, he had already become disconnected from society.

How had Tony Stark, that famously reckless yet brilliant man, gotten mixed up with the famously reckless and not-so-brilliant member of his own family?

The more he thought about it, the more they seemed cut from the same cloth.

"Go on, which actress are you trying to sleep with this time?" Jameson rubbed his temples, convinced that he had seen through Anton's scheme.

"You're slandering an innocent man out of thin air!!"

Anton spoke righteously. "Old man, I can't believe you're that kind of person! I'm preparing to cut ties with you for three months. Don't interfere with me during those three months! I'm going to build my own career!"

"Should I help you make up your mind by freezing your bank cards while I'm at it?"

"Fine, I'll reconsider the matter of cutting ties with you and give you an answer tomorrow."

"Seriously, you're really going to make a movie?"

"Of course. I even have the script!"

"Let me see it!"

"Uh!"

Anton was at a loss for words. He choked for a moment, then quickly said, "I'll give it to you tomorrow when I give you my answer."

Jameson's mouth twitched. He became even more convinced that Anton was unreliable.

Then he waved a hand, indicating that he was already out of patience and that the brat should get out of his sight.

Anton readily complied and returned to his room.

Behind him, Jameson watched his departing back, opened his mouth, and ultimately said nothing.

After all, with Tony Stark, that famous spendthrift, covering for him this time, Anton could do whatever he wanted!

Jameson truly could not be bothered to deal with his own prodigal brat anymore!

Of course, he had also made up his mind to revise his will immediately and put all the cash originally intended for Anton into the family trust fund.

Once I'm dead, you'll live off a fixed allowance, you brat!

Don't even think about getting one extra cent a month!