After getting Tony's assurance, Pepper finally relaxed. She knew Tony's character well enough—if he promised something, he would follow through.
"Tony, where's Ethan?"
Hayashi asked, puzzled. Ethan hadn't appeared since his return, and it was beginning to worry him.
"Ethan? He doesn't want to stay here. Said he wants to go back to his hometown to help those people. I had no choice but to let him go. Don't worry, I made arrangements—Ethan won't be in any danger," Tony answered Hayashi's question calmly.
"Alright, I hope Ethan succeeds in helping those folks."
"Okay then, how about a family dinner? I think we're all starving," Tony said abruptly.
"No problem!" "No problem!" Hayashi and Pepper replied simultaneously, then glanced at each other and chuckled.
"Alright then, Jarvis, book the finest hotel and prepare a feast. We've got three hungry people here."
"Ha ha."
The mood between the three lightened considerably. Hayashi thought to himself: It's starting to feel more and more like home.
.................(I am the dividing line)
At the other side, in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.
Nick Fury was on the phone with the field team dispatched to Afghanistan, led by the now infamous Crossbones, Brock Rumlow.
"How's it going? Have you found the armor Stark wore during his escape?" Fury asked.
"Sorry, Director. When we arrived, all we found was sand," came the reply.
Fury's already grim expression darkened further at Bullock's words.
"Then who took it?" Fury muttered under his breath.
.........(I am the dividing line)
Obadiah was shouting furiously nearby.
"Why can't any of you compare to Tony Stark? The guy used hammers and tweezers to shrink the arc reactor to this size, in a cave, under those harsh conditions!" He gestured to show the minuscule size.
"And you? I gave you the best environment, the finest resources, and the highest salary—what do you give me?"
He pointed at the basin-sized reactor on the table.
"Did you seriously think you could fool me with this low-quality scrap?"
"Mr. Obadiah, we've tried everything, but with current technology, this is the smallest we can make it, and the power output drops drastically," one subordinate answered nervously.
"What about Stark? Why could he do it? Are all of you less capable than one Stark?" Obadiah shouted in frustration.
"I'll give you one more week. If you don't deliver, I'll feed you to the dogs."
After berating his team, Obadiah strode toward the armor production department.
In the center of the workshop sat the armor Tony had left behind in Afghanistan, forgotten due to a careless oversight—and now in Obadiah's possession.
The engineers from Badea were dissecting it.
"How's the research going? Are you confident you can replicate it?" Obadiah demanded.
"Mr. Obadiah, where did you get this? It's a true masterpiece. Can you introduce me to the genius who made this? I'd love to communicate directly with him," the production team leader said excitedly.
"Don't worry about who made it. Are you sure you can reproduce it?" Obadiah asked sharply.
"With this sample, we are confident we can copy the armor perfectly. But the power source remains a problem. Even using the strongest available, it can't sustain an hour-long battle," the leader admitted regretfully.
"Don't concern yourself with the power source. I have a solution. What I need is for you to build something bigger—an immense war machine capable of dominating the battlefield. Can you make the Colossus—like the tanks of World War I?"
Obadiah stared down the engineer with such intensity that the man trembled.
"We can!" the engineer almost shouted.
Satisfied, Obadiah left with a pleased smile.
.......(I am the dividing line)
Ignoring the stewing tensions between the mysterious Fu Rui and the old Yin Biobadea, let's return to our protagonist, Hayashi.
Hayashi was thrilled. This was his first true "family" gathering in both of his lives.
He was escorted by Happy, the loyal bodyguard and driver, to the most luxurious hotel in New York (its exact name remained unknown to him).
"Wow, it looks like a palace," Hayashi exclaimed.
"Stop fussing like a country bumpkin," Tony said dismissively. "You'll see plenty of places like this. Remember, you belong to me, Tony Stark."
"I can't believe they actually call me a country bumpkin!" Hayashi retorted.
"If I didn't want to punch you, humph," Tony smirked.
Hayashi scowled at Tony in frustration. Clearly, Tony's sharp tongue was a habit he needed to break someday.
"Tony, he's still a kid. How can you say that to him?" Pepper scolded, shooting Tony a sharp look.
Dinner began.
"Alright, I apologize," Tony said quickly.
Under the combined stares of Pepper and Hayashi, Tony decided to back down.
"I, Tony Stark, never apologize because I'm afraid. That's the truth," he muttered.
Soon, the three were seated, guided by a waiter. Exquisite dishes arrived one after another. Hayashi didn't recognize any of the food, but it was delicious.
Just as he was finishing, Hayashi suddenly remembered to warn Tony about Obadiah. He didn't want Tony and Pepper's lives to be put in danger by him, just like in the movie.
"Tony, I think you should watch out for Obadiah. I'm convinced he wants to kill you. Maybe he leaked your Afghanistan itinerary to terrorists."
"Watch out? Why would I be worried about Stan? And Hayashi, you should call him Grandpa Stan. He's my elder—same generation as my father—and it's rude to call him anything else."
Politeness wasn't Tony's style, but he hoped Hayashi wouldn't be like him.
Obviously, Tony didn't believe Hayashi's warning. After all, how could an old man who had been by his side for decades—the one who watched him grow up—ever harm him? Tony feigned anger and reached out to ruffle Hayashi's hair.
"Tony, when you held the press conference, I noticed Stan looked at you like an enemy. He wanted to kill you—I can't be wrong. You have to believe me."
Uncomfortable with Tony's touch—and distrustful of his words—Hayashi pulled Tony's hand away.