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With the rise of the Steel Soldiers, Hammer Industries had finally returned to its former glory. John's silhouette even appeared on the cover of Vanity Fair. Besides Tony Stark, he was the only one to receive such an honor. Of course, this kind of fame brought its own troubles.
One day, a tall beauty in high heels "accidentally" sprained her ankle in the elevator. John gave Hattie a look, then walked ahead. Hattie stopped the woman in the elevator with a polite smile. Soon after, an ambulance was called, and the beauty was so frightened by the cost that her foot miraculously healed on the spot. Ambulances in New York were expensive enough to scare anyone straight.
Hattie brought a stack of documents to John's desk, her tone playful. "That's the fifth one this month who's tried to throw herself at you. The famous Mr. Wick."
John rubbed his temples. These women all saw him as the next Tony Stark, but he had no interest in sleeping with models. Facing Hattie's teasing, John grumbled, "You should let Mr. Olov deal with these people. He's best at that."
Hattie laughed. "I won't tell you that Mr. Olov watches you from the office every day with binoculars, just to see you get flustered by these women. It's his daily entertainment."
Ever since Olov discovered this pastime, he spent more time in the surveillance room than in his own office, even placing bets with his subordinates. John made a mental note to make Olov pay for this. The Witch King holds grudges.
***
After finishing the Hammer Industries paperwork at Taran Industries, John went to the underground laboratory to check on Ivan's progress.
The second-generation Fighter armor was complete, rebuilt on the original framework. Ivan was inside, cracking his whip and recreating the classic five-strike lightning combo. Since the reactor was installed on the arm, the whip's power had only grown. Each strike left deep gouges in the steel wall, sparks flying with every lash.
John watched, stroking his chin. "I've always wondered, Ivan, why do you like whips so much?"
Ivan paused, lost in thought. Was it because John's aunt used to whip him? He stepped out of the armor and sprayed cooling mist inside. "I need to add a deodorizing system. Wearing it for half an hour is torture."
"How much longer until it's fully operational?" John asked, touching the smooth surface of the armor. The aerospace alloy was as hard as promised.
"Are you that eager for me to kill Tony Stark?" Ivan joked, thinking John was waiting for revenge. He did not realize John was preparing for the coming alien invasion, where an armor wielding dual whips would lead the Steel Soldiers into battle.
"I want to see this armor shine on its real stage," John said, shaking his head. "Ivan, this world is full of unknowns and dangers. Iron Man is not the only threat."
Ivan's eyes grew more thoughtful at that.
"Our real enemy is not even on this planet," John continued, tapping the armor. "Remember the prototype for this thing? Just an armor, but the damage it can cause is equal to an army."
Asgard would not invade, but using the Destroyer as a hypothetical enemy was enough to inspire innovation. Ivan was as creative as Tony, with unique advantages. The Fighter armor was a fusion of magic and technology, modeled after Asgardian craftsmanship. This raised the upper limit and opened new possibilities.
Ivan understood. To surpass Tony, he had to rely on foreign technology and outpace him with innovation. John gave him the opportunity, and Ivan was determined not to waste it.
He and John visited the three weapon boxes and the custom-built fortress Ivan had designed for them. "These will be sent into orbit tomorrow," Ivan said with a confident smile. "This will leave Tony Stark several blocks behind."
John only smiled. Ivan was exaggerating, and both men knew Tony's lead in intelligent systems was still significant. John noticed Ivan reading programming books and had to admit Tony was still ahead in that area.
***
April arrived. With the launch of the Taran Industries satellite, the new energy project officially began. Clean, renewable energy attracted attention from all corners of society.
This time, John pushed Olov to the front, letting him deal with the Vanity Fair cover models. John himself went to Nelson and Murdock's law office for coffee, something he had not done in a long time.
John sat nearby, sipping his cup of instant coffee and watching the busy lawyers with a hint of amusement.
Foggy glanced over and asked, "Why do you always drink instant coffee?"
John shook his head. "Coffee is always bitter. What matters is where you drink it."
He took another sip and grinned. "Look at me. Among the busy crowd, I get to drink coffee and watch you all running around. It's a sharp contrast to my leisure. It's like the boss in an office, pretending to work but actually just enjoying watching everyone else work themselves to death."
Foggy clutched his chest, wounded by the comparison. Peggy had never seen a client like John before, but Matt assured her she would get used to it.
After a while, Matt sent Foggy and Peggy away so he could speak to John alone.
"Night Ghost. Do you know him?"
"Yes," John answered without hesitation.
Matt tried to hear John's heartbeat but failed. He could only say, "He's killed too many people in Hell's Kitchen."
"They're all criminals, Matt," John replied calmly. "Just like you fight criminals, he's also protecting Hell's Kitchen."
"But what he does is also a crime."
"Aren't you committing a crime?" John chuckled. "You wear a mask because you want to punish those the law cannot reach, right?"
Matt was left speechless. In essence, they were the same. Night Ghost's methods were more extreme, but Daredevil would not kill.
At first, Matt suspected Night Ghost was John. The skills and decisiveness were similar. But John was honest, or perhaps too proud to hide anything. He was approachable, but in reality, incredibly arrogant.
Matt realized he could not persuade John to make Night Ghost stop. He could only say, "Someone will find him eventually."
"That's his business," John replied. "Save your compassion for those who need it, Matt. Soon, you'll be very busy."
"What do you mean?" Matt asked.
"If I told you that soon, New York will face an alien invasion, what would you do?" John glanced at Matt's cane. "That thing won't kill aliens."
Aliens? Invasion? Matt could not comprehend what John was saying. In this era, with information still limited, Matt, a blind lawyer, did not even know Thor had visited Earth.
John flipped his hands like a magician and produced a box. Inside was a brand new set of clothes. "I promised you a new suit. With what's coming, I hope you'll keep protecting Hell's Kitchen."
Matt opened the box and ran his fingers over the cool fabric. It was the most advanced bulletproof material, custom made for him by Taran Industries, just like Night Ghost's suit. With the storm on the horizon, Matt knew he would need this suit.
John left the law office, leaving Matt with mixed feelings. He did not want to get too close to John, but John always made it impossible to refuse his help. Matt had seen the man's cruelty but also the help he had given.
He could not see through John, nor could he escape his influence.
"You are the most terrifying person, John."
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