Across the United States stock market, as news leaked from Stark Industries, everyone hurriedly began selling off their shares, and even more people cursed furiously at Tony.
They never imagined that the blue-chip stocks of just a few days ago would now plummet into such a ghost of a state.
To cut their losses, they had no other choice but to sell.
Yet right as they were dumping them, Potts had already organized a team to gobble up every single share they cast away.
However, this was destined to be a massive undertaking, one by no means finished in a day or two.
Therefore, after delegating the matter, Tony paid no further mind to this whole mess, instead having JARVIS dig up some information on Kingpin to study.
Kingpin hailed from the slum of Hell's Kitchen, but because he dared to fight and hustle hard on the streets, he quickly climbed to a high-ranking position.
Later, changes swept through Hell's Kitchen, and the faction Kingpin belonged to declined as well.
Yet he, full of ambition, directly swallowed his former boss whole and rose up completely.
From this point alone, one could perceive the dangerousness of Kingpin; cooperating with such a man was undoubtedly bargaining with a tiger for its skin.
Had the system not existed, Tony would not have wished for excessive contact with such a person.
Yet as he was now, he naturally would not fear a Kingpin.
After reviewing the files for a bit, he had JARVIS unearth Kingpin's contact information.
As the top artificial intelligence of this era, wherever there was a network and a signal was JARVIS's turf; even though Kingpin's cell phone number was heavily concealed, it still took JARVIS a mere thirty seconds to dig it up.
Beep, beep...
The call tone rang, and soon, the call connected, a muffled and authoritative voice issuing from the other end.
"Hello?"
"Greetings, let me introduce myself. My name is Tony, the head of Stark Industries. You should know me."
"I have a piece of business I'd like to discuss with you. I wonder if Mr. Kingpin has the time?"
Without any beating around the bush, Tony cut straight to the point once the call connected.
Whether watching movies or reading novels in his past life, what he loathed most was when the dialogue between protagonist and supporting character could never get to the point.
Thus, he naturally would not commit this flaw.
On the other end of the line, when Tony's voice fell, that side instantly went quiet.
Clearly, Tony's directness caught Kingpin somewhat off guard.
Yet an overlord was an overlord; in just a few short seconds he had already recovered his wits and begun pondering Tony's objective.
Stark Industries was a product under the sunlight; regardless of how ruthless it was at its core, it was legal.
Kingpin, conversely, was the exact opposite; his business and his influence alike were illegal, destined to remain hidden in the shadows.
With two such factions, he truly could find no ground for cooperation.
"Oh, Stark, interesting. How do you want to cooperate?"
Kingpin asked with a trace of curiosity in his tone, while Tony did not answer the question directly, only wearing a trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth as he said, "Since Mr. Kingpin is also interested, why don't we meet and talk?"
With those words, another silence fell over the other end of the line, and Tony was not in a rush, quietly waiting for a response.
Ten seconds later, Kingpin's steady voice sounded once more, "Fine, then let's meet and talk. I'll wait for you on Queens Boulevard."
With that, a string of beeps came through the phone as Kingpin hung up directly.
At that moment, Tony also stood up, walking toward the door as the smile on his face instantly vanished and his expression turned utterly bland.
Taking the private elevator down to the third basement level, Tony boarded the supercar, started the engine, and accompanied by the roar of the sports car, a silver supercar charged straight out of the parking garage.
On Queens Boulevard, once Tony arrived at the spot, he directly cut the engine, stepped out, and lit a cigarette to smoke.
When the cigarette had burned down halfway, a burly man dressed in a black suit walked straight toward him.
"Mr. Tony, hello. Mr. Wilson sent me to pick you up."
"Then let's go."
Tony said simply and directly, flicking the cigarette in his hand with a casual snap so that it traced an arc through midair and landed in the middle of the road.
Immediately, the two of them boarded a black sedan one after the other, whereupon the burly man produced a strip of black cloth and said, "Sorry, Mr. Tony, I must ask for your cooperation."
Seeing this, Tony nodded to show his understanding, letting the burly man blindfold him with the black cloth.
Having lost his vision, Tony was nonetheless unfazed; in the darkness invisible to ordinary people, pairs of crimson eyes were currently staring at everyone in the car.
Should any unexpected situation arise, they could guarantee tearing them to pieces in the very first instant.
Twenty minutes later, led by the burly man, Tony stepped into a building while the black cloth was untied for him.
Darkness and light intertwined, and Tony instinctively narrowed his eyes, sizing up the surrounding environment.
This was an ordinary courtyard; ignoring the black-clad guards stationed around, it was no different from an ordinary person's dwelling.
In the center of the lawn, a giant wearing casual clothes was sitting on the grass, a barbecue grill set up before him while thick cuts of steak sizzled continuously.
Looking at the mountain-like figure, a flash of surprise crossed Tony's eyes; although he knew Kingpin was massive, he hadn't expected him to be massive to this degree.
Visually estimated around two meters tall, his entire body was packed with muscle, especially those arms of his, which were thicker than a normal person's thighs.
The fellow beside him counted as quite robust among ordinary people, but before Kingpin, it was like a child next to an adult, the disparity immense.
Countless thoughts whirled through his mind, though in the outside world merely a single breath had passed, and Tony immediately lifted his leg and walked over.
As he approached, Kingpin lowered his gaze to look right at him, casting a profound look with his deep eyes before speaking in a flat tone: "You're here? Have something to eat first."
Faced with the invitation, Tony didn't flinch at all, nodding directly, "Sure, I just happen to be hungry. Cook it a bit more thoroughly though; I've no desire to eat raw meat."
Hearing this, the corner of Kingpin's mouth hitched upward; ever since he swallowed up all the factions in Hell's Kitchen, this was the first time anyone dared speak to him like that.
"Fine."
Acknowledging with a word, Kingpin went back to flipping the steaks, neither of them bringing up the matter of cooperation as if they had completely forgotten about it.
Steak after steak came off the grill, and Tony tucked in without standing on ceremony, even cracking open a bottle of red wine midway to savor it thoroughly-anyone who didn't know better would have thought he was here on a picnic.
An hour later, Tony and Kingpin had polished off all the ingredients, several men in black stepped forward to clear away the grill, and Tony leaned back lazily on a lounge chair.
Right then, Kingpin's voice rang out as well: "Speak. How do you want to cooperate?"
At that, Tony glanced at him and retorted, "I actually thought you could hold it in longer."
Kingpin's expression remained unchanged, unbothered by Tony's banter.
Seeing this, Tony instantly lost interest in teasing him further and stated, "I sell arms. We naturally share a foundation for cooperation."
"I'll supply you with weapons, and you help me take care of some things. How about that?"
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